On the first day of the jousting tournament, each contestant was scheduled to compete three times. A match that ended with someone being unhorsed on the first pass was one thing, but scoring points by striking shields or armor required several passes and took quite some time. As a result, despite the early start, the sun was beginning to set by the time every knight had finished.

Naturally, Shan defeated all his opponents by an overwhelming margin. After knocking down his first opponent with a precise blow to the head, he struck the second in the exposed chest and the third in the shoulder, sending both tumbling.

"Shan! Shan! Shan!"

"Damn it! That Altoan brat has ruined me again!"

"Keep your voice down, idiot. He'll hear you."

With each victory, the cheers grew a little louder. Of course, they were always drowned out by the anguished cries and jeers of those who had gambled themselves into ruin.

The crowd dispersed after the announcer delivered a tribute to the two knights who had regrettably lost their lives. Various safeguards were in place, but inadequate equipment or simple bad luck claimed lives every year, and most people seemed to accept it as a matter of course.

After joining the others in a silent tribute, Shan looked at the banner hanging at one side of the arena. The name "Shan Barendil" stood at the very top of the standings. Even among those with three wins and no losses, he had earned the highest score by unhorsing every opponent with a single blow.

"I expected as much, but that was an overwhelming performance."

Shan answered Roden with a sheepish smile. With other knights nearby, saying it had not been particularly difficult would have been rude, but claiming it had been hard would have been a lie.

Just then, Sir Katra approached with a somewhat apologetic expression. His matches apparently had not gone very smoothly today; several new lance marks marred his armor.

"I hate to ask after you've already invited me, but could I bring a few companions along? They all want to see the cockatrice's head."

"As many as you like."

"Thank you!"

"Come to think of it, how did you do today?"

"One win and two losses. I suspect I'll be eliminated tomorrow. I hope you'll do your best for both of us," Sir Katra said with a bitter smile.

There was little to be done about it. Neither his equipment nor his skill ranked among the best of the knights gathered here.

Before leaving, Shan gave the remaining spectators a wave. As darkness began to fall, his two glowing green eyes left a deep impression on them.

* * *

The knights' arrival threw the Wievers mansion into a flurry of activity over the unexpected guests. Kalion hurried out, bowed deeply, and ushered them inside like a shopkeeper welcoming customers during the busiest season.

"Oh my, what an honor to have such valiant knights visit our humble home... Hurry and prepare some food!"

"Yes, master!"

Watching the servants scurry about, one of the knights murmured, "I thought he looked familiar. Isn't that the head of the capital's merchants' guild? Did he sponsor your armor as well?"

"Yes. He's supported me since I was little. My squire is this family's heir, too."

"Ah, that explains why he looked a little old..."

The knights turned toward Roden, who had been silently leading Shan's horse, and nodded in understanding.

Interestingly, their manner toward Kalion became noticeably more courteous after that. Previously, they had paid no more attention to his bowing and scraping than to a gnat buzzing nearby; now they acknowledged him with glances and nods. Watching them, Shan felt he understood why Kalion was so obsessed with cultivating connections among knights. Unless they were eccentrics like Darkal, it took at least that much for these proud, haughty knights to treat someone as a person.

A little later, Shan led the knights farther into the mansion to where the cockatrice was displayed. They exclaimed at the sight of the head mounted on the wall.

"It really is a cockatrice! The stone skin, the beak—just as the stories describe. It's no fabrication!"

"What an incredibly clean cut..."

"Oh, that was cut after the hunt. During the fight, I cut closer to the middle."

"The middle? How? Could you tell us more?"

He shared the details over dinner. Since the meal had to be prepared in a hurry, there was nothing that required lengthy boiling or cooking; most of the dishes were quickly grilled or stir-fried. Fortunately, the cook's skill left the knights happily shoveling food into their mouths.

"It happened when we entered a gorge while exploring the Demonlands. Suddenly, the ground shook with a great thud..."

Having told the story to explorers in Shedil countless times already, Shan had become quite adept at it. As he spun his tale of the cockatrice hunt, the knights responded enthusiastically.

Had they heard such a tale the day before, they would have taken him for a braggart. But hadn't this boy already proven his skill with three overwhelming victories in the joust? Of the knights gathered here, only one other had won all three matches, and even he had barely scraped through after coming close to defeat several times.

"A cockatrice hunt! That truly sets the blood boiling!"

"If another opportunity like that arises, be sure to invite me."

"My friend, why would someone who has already hunted one alone suddenly need companions?"

"You never know! Killing a monster once is no guarantee you'll come away unscathed the second time... Ah, I mean no slight to you, Sir Shan!"

As the knights chattered freely, their faces had grown flushed from the prodigious quantities of wine they were drinking with their food. As they became drunker, fairly private matters began slipping into the conversation.

"Do you happen to know why this jousting tournament was held?"

"This is the first I've heard of any particular reason."

"I happened to hear that the two princes intend to take those who prove their skill in this tournament as vassals and send them on an expedition to the Demonlands."

"Ah, because of that rumor? About His Majesty the King?"

By now, just about anyone with an ear for news knew that the king's health was failing and that the two princes were searching for a magical device to restore it. Sir Katra turned to Shan and asked a question.

"What do you intend to do, Sir Shan? I understand you're a knight-errant. If you win, will you offer your lance to one of the princes?"

"Judging by the rumors, I doubt either would accept an Altoan's lance."

"Ah..."

The other knights sighed at Shan's answer. Those with strong prejudices against Altoans, or who followed the Old Faith, had not come in the first place. Everyone here could only regret that Shan was unable to make full use of his extraordinary talent.

"I shall have to speak to my lord. A knight so gifted shouldn't be left wandering as a knight-errant merely because he's Altoan."

"I was going to speak to mine first. Don't cut in!"

"What was that?"

After a brief bout of bickering, the dining room soon became indistinguishable from a tavern full of rowdy drunks. They talked with their mouths crammed full, spraying bits of food everywhere, and frequently dropped wine bottles and soaked the carpet.

"Hahaha!"

"Another drink!"

Their debauchery made it hard to believe they had to compete in the joust again tomorrow.

'Why do I feel like I'm the only one following knightly etiquette...? '

Watching them, Shan briefly questioned the usefulness of his past lessons in refinement.

Then again, they were probably behaving this way because they were among fellow knights. They likely also wanted to escape the pressure of facing a potentially deadly contest the very next day.

Sir Katra and the other knights managed to leave before the curfew cutoff rather than collapsing where they sat. Kalion urged them to stay the night, but they all preferred to sleep somewhere with people who could properly tend to their arms and horses.

After the thoroughly drunken knights left singing, Shan turned to the weary-looking Roden and asked, "Did you enjoy talking with the other squires?"

"Hard to say. They all treated me like an old man."

A knight's squire was both an assistant who served at their side and a successor being trained for future knighthood. There were exceptions like Shan, who received intensive instruction from retired knights such as Sir Darkal and skipped serving as a squire, but earning knighthood after such service was more common. Most squires were therefore teenagers.

Still, Roden had only just turned twenty, so the age gap was hardly enormous. Shan could not help laughing when he heard that Roden had felt left out because he looked so much older than his years.

"Don't laugh, you little bastard. Anyway, you reek of wine. How much did you drink?"

"I don't know. Seven bottles or so?"

"You're tiny, but you drink like a fish. How does it all fit in your stomach?"

"Everyone else ate and drank about as much. Thinking about it, I feel bad for your father. They brought out a lot of expensive wine. Maybe I shouldn't have invited them."

"Father's probably delighted. Look over there. He's positively beaming."

Now that he mentioned it, Kalion was indeed all smiles as he directed the cleanup. Apparently, being treated with a measure of respect by the knights thanks to Shan had put him in a good mood.

"Besides, he wagered plenty on you winning at gambling spots all over the place. The profits alone will more than cover tonight's dinner."

Shan had been virtually unknown before today's tournament, so hardly anyone had bet on him winning all three matches. Kalion's servants, acting on his instructions, had quietly placed bets on Shan winning every match. The profits hardly needed explaining.

"Well, what's more important than that money is that fewer people will doubt you killed a cockatrice after today. Some will still insist you're lying, but quite a few people have seen the real thing now."

The goodwill and reputation he built among knights in this way were weapons he could not afford to dismiss. If royalty or nobles ever tried to restrict Shan's rights because he was Altoan, support from his fellow knights would be his strongest shield. After all, if sacred knightly rights could be curtailed on the pretext of race, what guarantee was there that those in power would not invent some other excuse next time?

While the two chatted and watched the dining room being tidied, a servant approached Kalion to announce a visitor.

"What, at this hour? Curfew will be starting soon!"

Though bewildered, Kalion instructed them to admit the guest, since the servants said it was someone who had visited before.

Roden went to receive the visitor in the drawing room in his stead, then called Shan over shortly afterward. Seeing the person waiting inside, Shan gave a small "Ah," thought for a moment, and spoke.

"That would be... Sir Agon?"

"It's Kagon!"

The man among the princess's two inept bodyguard knights—that was all Shan remembered of him. He shouted in a sudden temper. Unlike his previous plain clothing, worn as a disguise, he was dressed quite lavishly this time.

"Ah, yes. Sir Kagon. What brings you here?"

"Her Highness has summoned you... requests your presence, sir."

Kagon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as though reluctant to say what followed, then added, "It is not compulsory, of course. She merely wishes to congratulate you on your victories. If you have other business or are tired, you need not accept."

He seemed to want to say, "Don't you dare think of refusing when Her Highness calls for you."

In any event, Shan had no particular reason not to go. Though he had not taken a single hit and thus had little use for them, the princess had made it possible to place protective enchantments on his armor. Only an idiot would think a safeguard worthless simply because it had not been needed. If she called for him, it was only right to visit and offer his thanks.

"Then I'll go. But is it all right to enter the palace so late at night? There's the curfew, too."

"Her Highness awaits at a villa outside the palace. And surely mere night watchmen would not dare stop a knight."

"Ah, I see."

* * *

Shan and Roden followed Kagon through the pitch-dark streets, each carrying a torch. Of course, Shan could have made his way perfectly well without one, so his was largely decorative.

Several night watchmen approached with a clacking sound. They recoiled at Shan's green eyes glowing in the darkness, then brightened as though realizing something and called out.

"Might you be Sir Shan? The Altoan knight?"

"Ah, yes, that's me..."

"They say you won every match on the first day of the joust! It's an honor to meet you!"

True to a nation enthralled by knights, word had apparently spread already. Several watchmen recognized Shan and greeted him enthusiastically. Others were indifferent or hostile, of course, but even they did not openly reproach him. However dim they might be, none was stupid enough to provoke a knight who supposedly had slain a cockatrice and currently stood first in the royal joust, especially with that knight standing before them wearing a sword.

"But what brings you out at this late hour—"

"A person of noble standing has sent for us. Stand aside."

"Ah, of course, sir! Beg your pardon!"

At Kagon's words, the watchmen bowed low and cleared the way. Had ordinary commoners been caught wandering the streets at night, they would have immediately been beaten with clubs. The ability to flout the rules so effortlessly was another power granted by status.

They soon reached the princess's villa in a district inhabited mainly by the capital's nobility. After a few knocks, a servant recognized Kagon, quickly opened the door to admit them, and slammed it shut behind them.

Aran, the princess's other bodyguard knight, opened the sitting-room door farther inside and welcomed them. Princess Sherin sat in a cushioned chair, reading by the light of a magic tool. Her hair was tied tightly back and she wore spectacles, just as when Shan had first met her.

"Shan of House Barendil greets Your Highness."

"Ah, you came! I wasn't expecting much at this late hour. I heard the news. Three overwhelming victories, and first place, is that right?"

"Yes..."

"Hearing that truly made knighting you worthwhile. I was delighted."

"It was thanks to your help, Your Highness."

Shan answered politely, but when he raised his head to look at Sherin, he involuntarily flinched. Beneath her amethyst spectacles, her fair, delicate cheek bore a dark blue bruise.

"What happened...?"

"He flew into a temper, saying I had disgraced the royal family. Apparently, he doesn't realize it's more shameful for a prince to strike his own younger sister."

She did not say so outright, but it was easy to guess that this had happened because her decision to knight Shan had become known. Her forlorn smile, combined with her distinctively decadent beauty, gave her a fragile, pitiable allure.

Watching from behind Shan, Roden almost let out an incredulous laugh despite himself.

'That scheming little fox...'

It looked fairly serious, but an injury of that severity would have healed quickly with a healing miracle from one of the capable priests in royal service. Even without that, the princess was an accomplished mage herself and could have made a healing potion to drink or apply. Surely anyone could see that she seemed to have deliberately left it untreated so she could appeal to Shan: "This happened because I was doing my best for you."

Naturally, no such scheming occurred to Shan, who regarded her with a grave expression.

"Were you struck because of me?"

"There is no need to think of it that way. It will heal soon enough. Let's leave such dreary matters aside. Sit down. It's late, and propriety won't allow me to have you stay the night, so shouldn't we make the most of the little time we have?"

Shortly after Shan and Roden sat down opposite the princess, a maid brought tea. Yet the cups contained not ordinary tea, but an inky liquid with a faint brown tinge. At its potion-like color, Shan and Roden exchanged a look. They had eaten the apple pie the princess offered before because it had looked perfectly normal, but this seemed certain to make them ill if they drank it.

'Is this really safe to drink?'

'I'm not sure...'

Princess Sherin chuckled at their reaction.

"Have neither of you seen this before? It's black tea, a specialty of the southern continent. It clears the mind, which makes it useful in all sorts of ways."

As she spoke, the princess added several spoonfuls of sugar from the accompanying bowl to her tea and drank. They copied her and found it sweet yet bitter, with a rich, roasted flavor—unfamiliar, but quite pleasant.

"It's delicious..."

"I'd like to give you some to take home, but unfortunately I don't have much. The trading ships from the southern continent don't bring large quantities, so we grow it separately in the palace greenhouse. It takes quite a while to produce each harvest."

In other words, it was expensive and precious. If even the son of the merchants' guild head had never heard of it, and a princess could scarcely spare any to give away, its rarity went without saying.

Princess Sherin took another sip of black tea, then caught the smell of wine on Shan and wrinkled her nose slightly.

"I don't wish to nag, but you should exercise restraint when drinking. It's bad for adults as well, of course, but drinking at such a young age puts a particularly heavy strain on your body. I want you to remain healthy for many years to come."

"Ah, yes. I'll keep that in mind."

Shan, who had never even considered that alcohol might be harmful, agreed despite his puzzlement. Sir Darkal and the other knights said a true man and knight had to hold his drink, but when it came to the human body, this mage princess would know better.

"Good. More importantly, how are you finding the joust? Kagon tells me your victory is all but certain."

Behind her, Kagon cleared his throat. Apparently, he had watched today's matches and reported Shan's abilities to the princess. Rather than affect modesty, Shan nodded and answered plainly.

"Yes. Unless something unusual happens, I think I'll win."

"Good. Very good..."

Sherin answered languidly, then snapped her book shut. Shan's answer seemed to have given her the resolve to decide something she had been hesitating over.

"I told you before that I had a way to transform this entire country, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"That way is the compression and division of magic stones, and the technology to mass-produce lighter magical devices using them. The research is already nearing completion. Only the final verification remains."

Behind the princess, her two guards drew quiet, sharp breaths, as though she had said something she ought never to have revealed.

But Shan and Roden knew little of magic and could not immediately grasp what that meant. As though expecting this, Sherin promptly continued her explanation.

"Do you know why most magical devices in use today are relics of the Alto era?"

"Well, I've heard it's because magic cannot be fixed permanently in place without a magic stone," Roden answered from beside Shan.

All magic naturally required a power source. The enchantments used by modern mages could only impart temporary power; they could not make an object replenish that power on its own. That was why all modern magic tools were consumable.

Yet magic stones were far too large and scarce to simply slot into magical devices as power sources. Hadn't the cockatrice's magic stone they acquired been even larger than a human torso? Even smaller specimens were generally larger than a person's head, making it utterly impractical to attach them to swords or armor.

Consequently, magic stones were mostly used for little more than reinforcing castle walls and gates. Research had recently begun into using them as the medium for creating enormous battle golems, but the practicality of that technology was still in doubt.

"This research will change all of that. If we can compress magic stones to the size of a fingernail, we will be able to turn not only all manner of arms and armor, but even smaller objects into magical devices. We can divide a single large stone into hundreds and mass-produce devices with relatively modest effects."

Armies equipped with those mass-produced magical devices would exterminate the monsters roaming the mountains and plains. A handful of knights armed with powerful devices made using multiple magic stones would hunt down the great monsters lurking here and there, until they could drive every last one out of the Demonlands.

After a thousand years, the age of magic would return at last.

This invention would save Pendia—and beyond it, all humanity.

The princess spoke in a dreamy murmur.