A cockatrice. Roden had once used this monster as an example while boasting about how impressive knights were.

A giant lizard covered from head to toe in stonelike skin...

Now that Shan faced one himself, he could see that the description captured its appearance perfectly, yet conveyed nothing of its overwhelming ferocity or the oppressive weight of its presence.

Perhaps because it stood atop a five-meter wall, the already enormous creature looked like nothing less than a dragon.

The cockatrice narrowed its eyes as though trying to determine just what these things were, then opened its pointed, birdlike beak wide and roared.

[□□□■■■□□-!]

A wave swept over them, the peculiar force of a large monster's roar that momentarily robbed the body of its freedom to move. This was on an entirely different level from the troll's roar Shan had experienced before.

He was about to shake off the paralysis with his powerful spirit when he realized there was no need. Priest Vent had swiftly bestowed a blessing that strengthened his mind and bolstered his courage.

The price was that Vent himself crumpled helplessly to the ground, just like Roden and Zerpo beside him.

“Ghh, ugh!”

“My legs...!”

Seeing even the horses stagger as their legs buckled, Shan stepped forward to draw the cockatrice's attention before it could attack.

The creature looked down at him with snake-slit pupils, then leaped off the wall. Fortunately, it seemed interested in Shan, the only one moving while everyone else remained frozen.

“Ugh!”

BOOM!

The ground crumpled beneath it, flinging dirt in every direction.

Its stone skin apparently did more than merely look the part. Perhaps it really was immensely heavy, for the creature seemed to weigh an incredible amount even for its size.

What was astonishing was that it moved as nimbly as an ordinary animal despite that ponderous body.

Shan sidestepped a clawed foreleg as it lashed out and dragged his blade along the creature's flank.

S K R R R K!

Sparks flew with the grinding of metal, and a long, blood-red line appeared across the stone skin.

'It's hard!'

He had not used his full strength, but he had put enough spirit into that blow to cut through steel, and all he had managed was a shallow scratch.

Yet Shan was apparently not the only one surprised. Horrified to discover a wound on its hard body, the cockatrice sprang backward.

Given its size, the injury scarcely seemed worth mentioning. Had it never been hurt in its life?

As Shan met the confusion and fear in the cockatrice's eyes, Zerpo's trembling voice reached him from behind.

“Wait, let's withdraw for now... We were far too unprepared for this encounter. We need time to prepare and formulate a plan, at the very least.”

Following his suggestion, Green Eyes slowly backed away from the enormous mansion.

Fortunately, the cockatrice merely watched them warily with gleaming yellow eyes. Once they withdrew, it made no attempt to pursue them.

“Whew...”

Only once they were a good five minutes' walk from the mansion did they all breathe sighs of relief. Even then, they glanced back toward the cockatrice's mansion several times.

Considering the sound of its footsteps, there was no chance of it approaching unnoticed. Still, its presence had been oppressive enough to make them look.

“Damn it. Why did a monster like that have to be in the grandest mansion of all?”

As Roden bemoaned their rotten luck, Zerpo, who had been rubbing his chin thoughtfully, offered a different view.

“Perhaps it isn't simply bad luck.”

“What is it, then?”

“This is a relatively recent hypothesis, but some argue that monsters are drawn to powerful magical devices, or things of that nature.”

Like tales of dragons hoarding treasure, stories of extraordinary objects invariably having guardians had been told since ancient times. Naturally, without such beings, someone should already have carried the treasure away.

Recently, however, some mages had begun arguing that this was more than a convenient way to make a story consistent. They claimed that monsters fueled themselves with the residual magical energy that naturally leaked from magical devices.

High-order monsters in particular relied more heavily on such mysterious sources of power, since ordinary meals could scarcely supply enough energy to keep them moving.

This, they said, also explained why warriors equipped with powerful magical devices so often encountered exceptionally powerful monsters and forged legends of their own.

“Then, could it be...?”

“There may be something keeping that cockatrice there. No, there's a good chance of it.”

The mansion at the city's center had the size and appearance of a residence belonging to the most powerful person in the region. If there was treasure anywhere, that was surely where it would be.

The problem was that exploring the mansion without first killing the cockatrice would be all but impossible. The creature had come to investigate simply because they had talked near the entrance. With senses that keen, it was certain to find them no matter how quietly they slipped inside.

“Even so, isn't that creature beyond us? Several lords would have to combine their forces to slay a monster like that.”

Vent frowned as he voiced his opinion.

Trolls and cockatrices were both classified as large monsters, but the gap between them was truly as vast as heaven and earth. A troll was generally hunted by a force built around one or two knights, like the expedition Shan had joined before. A cockatrice, by contrast, required a large punitive force numbering hundreds of warriors and more than ten knights.

Apart from a few supreme monsters that appeared once every several decades or centuries and were powerful enough to threaten an entire kingdom, cockatrices ranked among the strongest monsters anyone might ordinarily encounter.

Merely taking part in a cockatrice hunt was something a knight could boast of among his peers. Personally severing its head would make a tale worth passing down through generations.

“But it would be such a waste to give up.”

“Exactly. After all the trouble we went through to get here.”

“Hmm.”

Vent could only groan in response to Zerpo and Shan, apparently unable to argue.

Considering the magical tools and supplies they had consumed on the journey in, it would indeed be a shame to do nothing but circle the outskirts and leave. Of course, even that would more than cover their costs. But given the nature of the Demonlands, there was no guarantee they could reach this place as safely next time.

“First, we should hear what Shan thinks. You've crossed blades with it once, so you must have some sense of it. Can you do it?”

Under gazes filled with both hope and concern, Shan sank into thought.

If he fought the cockatrice here and lost, his would not be the only life that ended. The moment Green Eyes lost his fighting strength, the cornerstone of their expedition, their chances of making it safely back to Shedil would all but vanish.

“Hmm.”

A groan escaped him as he inspected the sword he had used to slash the cockatrice's flank. The blade was a sorry sight, chipped all along its edge until it resembled a saw...

It had suffered this much damage despite the protection of his spirit. Had he swung it without that power, it would surely have been as futile as trying to cleave a boulder with a sword.

To kill the creature, he would have to pour nearly all his stamina into a thrust aimed at its heart or brain.

Reasonably speaking, withdrawing was the right decision. He could try again more safely once he was older and his body had grown, after acquiring several decent enchanted weapons, even if they fell short of the count's enchanted sword.

But...

'If I do that, when will I ever get anywhere?'

Countless explorers spent their entire lives at the trade without finding a single worthwhile magical device. Discovering an unknown city was already an extraordinary stroke of luck. Who knew how many years it would take to enjoy that kind of fortune several more times?

Above all, how could he ever achieve what he wanted if he retreated like this every time an obstacle appeared? His very dream of becoming a knight as an Altoan was impossible by ordinary means.

Extraordinary results demanded extraordinary methods.

“Let's make a plan.”

At Shan's words, everyone nodded gravely. As though his decision settled the matter, even Vent offered no further objections.

Whatever might be true in other matters, when it came to combat, Shan's authority outweighed that of the other three combined.

* * *

Before putting their plan into action, Green Eyes decided to search the surrounding area. They would loot a few other large buildings some distance from the cockatrice's mansion in hopes of finding useful magical devices.

Of course, since the creature might attack at any moment, all four would always search the same building together.

They had spent some time rummaging through shelves and cupboards in a dust-filled building when Shan, coughing, heard Roden's delighted shout.

“Oh, I found one! Over here!”

Once the others gathered from their separate corners, Roden held out a gilded goblet. As befitted an enchanted object, it gleamed all by itself, entirely at odds with the house's dilapidated surroundings.

“It doesn't look much use in a fight.”

“You never know. It might turn any liquid poured into it into poison... Let me examine it first.”

While Zerpo investigated the goblet's function, the others resumed their search. The function he discovered shortly afterward was somewhat disappointing.

“Temperature control?”

“Yes. It maintains the temperature of the liquid inside, whether hot or cold. Making such a trivial object from materials that could last this long suggests the owner was quite wealthy. Either that, or they had a personal need for it.”

Whatever Zerpo's explanation, it was no use for killing the cockatrice. Still, a functioning Altoan artifact would fetch an enormous price in Shedil, so they did not forget to pack it away.

After pulling scraps of paper so old they had crumbled from beneath a bed, Shan dusted off his hands and asked Zerpo a question.

“Why do we hardly ever find books, though?”

“I imagine paper simply wasn't a particularly suitable material for enchantment. Or perhaps the Altoans had a better way of storing information. As a result, an intact book from the Altoan era is incomparably more valuable than most artifacts.”

“That much?”

“Never mind a spellbook. Imagine finding so much as a map of the old Alto Empire. To an explorer, it would be a treasure beyond compare.”

“True...”

With something like that, they could easily find the legendary city of Asiluv, capital of the Alto Empire. Unless it lay thousands of kilometers away to the east, that was.

“That's also why so little is known about the Alto Empire's history. Strangely enough, very little history has been handed down through the surviving Altoans, either. The most widespread account is the one taught by the faith of the Goddess—”

“The story that the ancient Altoans betrayed humanity and the Goddess, and used magic to open a gate to the world of devils?”

“The Old Faith still believes that, yes. Personally, I disagree. Whichever way you look at it, the claim rests on far too fragmentary a text.”

And so, to punish the Altoans, the Goddess laid a curse upon them, warping their forms and laying waste to their land so that no one could live there. Bereft of their homeland, they were condemned to wander forever in their hideous forms.

Priest Ador had drummed that lesson into Shan's ears every day during his sermons.

Even as Shan chatted animatedly with Zerpo, his eyes and hands never stopped working.

After looting another five houses, Green Eyes had acquired a considerable number of Altoan artifacts: a large cupboard that kept its contents fresh, cosmetics that would last almost indefinitely, a handkerchief that cleaned itself no matter what it wiped away...

Since they were searching ordinary homes rather than armories or barracks, most of their finds were inevitably household goods. The only item with much potential use in battle was an orb that stored sunlight and glowed at night, but it had gone unused so long that it could not be used immediately.

By the time they finished searching, the sun had set and darkness was spreading across the city. With constant clouds shutting out sun and moon alike, the nights of the Demonlands were terribly dark.

Continuing their search until this hour rather than fighting had been deliberate. A nighttime battle would let them make the most of Shan's night vision.

“[Garnarobastang... Arbonasfrum...]”

An eerie incantation drifted through the building in the dark of night.

After enchanting a weapon for the third time, Zerpo collapsed in utter exhaustion. Though less demanding than spirit, magic also consumed stamina when used excessively.

“Hah... I-I can't... do any more. I mean it.”

Like any explorer, he was proficient in a variety of spells, but he had neither much aptitude for enchantment nor much study in that field. His specialty lay closer to archaeology: appraising magical tools and analyzing traces of ancient artifacts.

As such, his spells were weaker than those of a proper enchanter and lasted only a few dozen minutes. Even so, everyone agreed that this was the best use of his talents, rather than having him join the battle to try an assortment of tricks that would accomplish nothing.

Leaving the exhausted Zerpo with the horses, Shan, Roden, and Vent set off for the cockatrice's mansion.

“Phew...”

In the torchlight, Shan could see cold sweat running down Roden's face. Vent was plainly tense as well, though not to the same degree.

In truth, feeling nervous while walking toward a mighty monster's lair in the dead of night was perfectly normal. Yet even as Shan thought that, for some reason he felt no tension at all.

No, perhaps something warm was slowly spreading from deep within his chest...

'Ah.'

He suddenly remembered when he had felt this before.

When he had fought the Steel Lion Legion's bandits who first came to his village. When he had fought Feonil the Black Lance. And when he had fought the troll.

He felt this way only when facing a battle in which one mistake could mean death. Against unthreatening opponents, like commonplace monsters or ordinary enemies, he felt nothing of the sort.

It was as though something blending the thrill of impending battle with the fear of death was jabbing wildly at his brain.

Shan let out a small sigh to release a little of that heat, then stopped the other two when they were about thirty meters from the mansion.

“This is far enough.”

“You don't need us any closer?”

“No. If I can kill it by stealth, that would be best.”

They had been detected the first time because they had approached noisily, talking out in the open. Perhaps, if he slipped inside alone, he could sever its head with a single blow as it slept.

That truly would be the best possible outcome.

* * *

After receiving a final blessing of vitality from Vent, Shan left the two men near the mansion's entrance and slipped inside with catlike steps.

Unlike their earlier encounter, when the sudden fight had forced him to use the one-handed sword he was carrying, this time he held the longsword he had bought at great expense from a smithy in the capital. It had cost half his earnings from the troll hunt and ranked among the finest ordinary steel swords money could buy.

He passed soundlessly through the entrance and into the garden, only to hear heavy thudding at once.

'It knows I'm here.'

He had made scarcely more noise than rustling leaves, so it could hardly have heard his footsteps. Was his scent the problem?

Sir Darkal's lessons had given Shan a thorough knowledge of many monsters' habits, but he knew little about cockatrices. They were rarely hunted, and when they were, it was usually by large military forces. They had never been properly studied, leaving little information to consult.

All he knew was that, unlike their relative the basilisk, they had no special abilities, but were extraordinarily strong, fast, and tough.

Before long, the cockatrice emerged from the darkness deeper within the mansion grounds. Perhaps his intrusion had angered it, for this time there was no trace of curiosity in its eyes, only fury.

[□□■□-!]

It unleashed the same thunderous roar as before, but Shan did not falter in the slightest. He had received no blessing of mental resistance, but his body had already experienced the roar once and adapted to some degree. Even without that, his powerful spirit could have resisted it.

Moving swiftly out of the charging creature's path, he first checked the flank he had slashed earlier.

'Good. It's hardly healed. It definitely doesn't have super-regeneration...'

After dodging several attacks, Shan drove his longsword into the exact spot he had slashed before. With far more spirit behind it, and aimed where the stone skin was already broken, the sword sank to its hilt in an instant.

[■■■■■■□□□--!]

It was a scream filled not with anger or menace, but pain. Even for a giant lizard nearly ten meters long from head to tail, having a sword with a blade over a meter long driven into its body apparently dealt a devastating blow.

With no time to pull the sword free, Shan released the hilt and ducked. The tail, strangely slender for such a massive body and supple as a whip, skimmed past the back of his head.

'That was close...!'

Had he lowered his head even slightly less, it would have burst open, killing him instantly. Had he remained standing, his head would have been torn off.

The sight convinced him that he had been right not to attack together with Roden. The cockatrice's strength and agility were on an entirely different level from the troll's. With Roden's reflexes, holding off even one or two blows would probably have left him badly injured or dead.

As Shan dodged its following attacks, he realized it was tracking him and counterattacking with remarkable precision. Could its night vision be better than he had expected?

Or was it aiming at his glowing green eyes?

To test the possibility, he briefly closed his eyes and moved by his other senses. At once, he heard claws slicing through the air toward him.

Shan swiftly dodged and opened his eyes, realizing he had escaped by nearly as narrow a margin as before. Apparently, that was not the answer.

'I nearly died!'

He was far more agile, but the difference in their sheer size and strength meant that one solid hit would finish him. Then again, wasn't that the nature of a knight's battles?

Overcoming physical abilities far inferior to those of monsters through excellent equipment, finely honed technique, and diligently tempered spirit.

Fortunately, the sword embedded in its flank seemed to be troubling it. Once he put some distance between them, it merely whined instead of charging aggressively. It certainly had less tolerance for pain than the troll he had fought before.

“Spear!”

Shan sprang backward several steps until he was near the mansion's front gate, then called loudly to Roden.

With his torch extinguished, Roden had been listening to nothing but booming impacts and the splintering of breaking objects in the darkness. At once, he hurled the weapon toward Shan's voice.

In daylight, merely picking up the spear would probably have made him tremble too hard to throw it properly. Being unable to see anything was a blessing instead.

“Watch out!”

Even without Roden's warning, Shan could see the long spear flying toward him like a javelin. For someone who could see nothing in the dark, Roden's ability to send it dozens of meters as though he meant to skewer Shan through the torso was almost impressive.

Shan turned lightly, caught the spear, and thrust at the approaching cockatrice's face. He avoided its hard beak and aimed for an eye, but a slight turn of its head left him only narrowly crushing the skin beside it.

The movement seemed more accidental than a deliberate dodge.

'So close.'

He had put a fair amount of spirit into the thrust. Apparently, the spear was too cheaply made to deliver a fatal blow even with an enchantment.

Shan continued to hold the creature at bay with several thrusts at its reaching forelegs. The instant an opening appeared, he seized it, driving the spear into the cockatrice's neck with several times as much spirit as before.

The spearhead pierced its stone-hard skin, burying roughly a third of the shaft.

“Ugh!”

Groaning at a drain on his stamina so severe it made him dizzy, Shan hurriedly rolled aside. The creature flailed madly in pain, and its claws scraped near his stomach. His chain mail shattered, scattering fragments of iron everywhere.

'Good thing I wore armor...'

He had considered leaving it off because it was heavy and made noise when he moved quickly. If he had, he would nearly have spilled his guts all over the ground.

With death so terrifyingly close, his brain reflexively flooded itself with pleasure-inducing chemicals. It felt much like the moment he had withstood the Black Lance's strike...

Unlike that opponent, however, this enemy showed no intention of stopping the fight.

Fortunately, as he desperately drove his exhausted body to dodge several more attacks, he felt his strength returning through the blessing of vitality.

“Sword!”

At his renewed request for a weapon, a familiar one-handed sword came whirling toward him: his very first spoil of battle, the sword of a Steel Lion Legion officer.

Shan had wanted a longsword he could wield in both hands. Though momentarily taken aback, he immediately leaped out of the charging cockatrice's path and plunged the blade into its back.

At that instant, the force of the creature's sudden movement snapped the sword with a sharp clang.

Shan staggered briefly as the spirit he had poured into the blow left him weak. Then the creature twisted around to bite him off its back. He hastily leaped away, planting his feet on several protrusions in a nearby building and climbing up its side.

Having seen it scale a five-meter wall, he could hardly feel safe, but this should at least buy him a moment.

“Hah, haa...”

Drawing on nearly all his spirit twice in succession left him so nauseated he felt he might vomit at any moment. Without the blessing of vitality, he would probably have collapsed unconscious.

He had barely begun restoring his stamina with the breathing technique Darkal had taught him when he realized that, for some reason, the creature was not attacking.

'... What's going on?'

The longsword in its flank, the spear in its neck, and the blade in its back looked painful and inconvenient, but none of those wounds was immediately life-threatening.

Yet instead of attacking Shan, it merely looked around, as though it could not find him.

'Could it be?'

After a moment's thought, Shan called to Roden again.

The last weapon, a spare longsword, came spinning dozens of meters over the wall and dropped to the ground. The cockatrice rushed toward it, lashing wildly at empty air with its claws and tail.

'Aha...'

Shan knew nothing of complicated concepts like vibrations, but he could roughly grasp how the creature perceived the world. No wonder it had tracked him so well in a night without a single speck of light. It was clearly moving by the sound of footsteps on the ground.

With an intruder inside the mansion grounds, it apparently paid no attention to Roden and Vent outside.

Shan waited for about a minute, clinging to the building until his stamina had fully recovered, then descended to the ground again. Just as expected, the cockatrice located its target the instant he landed with a thud and lunged at him.

“There we go.”

Narrowly evading its attack, Shan retrieved the longsword Roden had thrown. Then, holding it in one hand, he swiftly climbed the outer wall of the nearby building.

'Good. Now I just need to get it underneath me...'

As he thought that, the cockatrice approached the building with a puzzled look. Its opponent had abruptly vanished near the building twice in a row, so it seemed to suspect some trickery in this area.

Had it been as clever as the troll he had fought, it would have immediately deduced that he had climbed the building and acted accordingly. Intelligent monsters really were troublesome beyond the abilities they possessed.

'Come here. Just a little closer.'

With that thought, Shan extended his longsword and aimed precisely at the cockatrice's neck. He had considered stabbing its head, but the skull was generally the hardest part of a creature's body. Given the accounts that severing its neck would certainly kill it, this seemed the better target.

One step, then another.

The moment he judged it close enough, he released the hand gripping the wall and dropped.

Just then, a doubt suddenly surfaced in his mind.

'Can I really cut through it in one blow?'

The longsword in his hand was a spare, of far poorer quality than his usual weapon. It bore Zerpo's enchantment, but that was hardly impressive. If he failed to sever that thick neck with one blow and landed right in front of the creature utterly exhausted, he would be crushed to death...

Shan clenched his teeth and banished the doubt.

A priest placed complete trust in the Goddess. A mage questioned all things in the world. But a knight simply believed that he could do it.

Remembering Darkal's teaching brought order to his jumbled thoughts.

He would cut it!

With that thought, his keenly tempered spirit filled the longsword's edge and cleaved the cockatrice's neck, thick as a tree trunk.

Nearly the first half parted in an instant. Through the remaining half, he forced the blade as though half crushing his way through.

Having fulfilled its purpose, the longsword bent completely out of shape. It would have to be melted down and forged anew.

“Ahaha...”

Laughing as he watched the severed head drop limply to the ground, Shan realized that his own body had likewise betrayed his will and sprawled on the earth.

His mind burned with the heat of victory, while his utterly spent body could not so much as twitch. The incongruity delighted him, and laughter spilled out on its own.