Late at night, I threw on a coat and stepped out of the lodgings. The nights in Steel City Ferma never truly quieted down, regardless of the hour. But once I moved past the streets reeking of cheap booze, the cacophony of voices began to fade. As the heated shouts vanished, the peculiar stillness of the night settled in. Amidst the chirping of crickets and the rustling wind, the magnificent silhouette of the Arena came into view.
I stared at the Arena for a moment before walking toward the left, where a wall adorned with an antique crest stood. It looked like an art hall where masterpieces were gathered. However, what was displayed here were not works of art. It didn’t house creations made by artists, but rather the traces left behind by fighters.
As I quickened my pace, countless swords displayed along the wall caught my eye. Beneath the blades, numerous names were scrawled in elegant cursive.
The Hall of Fame.
A glorious place that preserved the equipment of fighters who had achieved great feats in the Arena.
It was a dull place, frequented only by young dwarves with vague romantic notions about weapons, blacksmiths with peculiar tastes, or scholars who enjoyed researching the history of armaments. Those who came to Steel City seeking heat and excitement rarely ventured this far.
However, tonight, a man stood there with his hands behind his back—a rare sight. It was the first time I had seen another visitor here besides myself. Sensing my presence, the man slowly turned around.
“Oh. We meet again.”
A clean-shaven head, eyes that radiated kindness, and a warm expression. Despite being a stranger, the man exuded a comfortable aura, greeting me as if we were old friends. I, however, could not return the sentiment.
After all, I had no idea who he was.
“…I’m sorry, but who are you?”
“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t recognize me since I was wearing a mask back then.” The man gave a good-natured laugh. “It is I, the fighter Helen, whom you traded blows with not long ago. Would you remember me if I said I was a Monk?”
“Ah.”
The moment I heard the word ‘Monk,’ the memory returned. The fighter who had fought with such terrifying, relentless persistence.
“You’ve recovered quickly. You must have had quite a few wounds.”
“Isn’t that something I should be saying to you, Monk? Your injuries were far more severe than mine.”
“Haha, I am fine. As long as the Goddess is with us, such things cannot even be called wounds.”
They really were a creepy bunch. I distinctly remembered piercing his chest accurately, yet here he was, perfectly fine already.
I looked at Gladiator Helen with a slightly weary gaze and asked, “But how did you recognize me at once, Monk? I was wearing a mask back then as well.”
“Because we do not judge a person by their eyes. We judge them by their aura.”
Aura?
I didn’t understand what he meant. Reading my expression, Gladiator Helen let out a hearty laugh.
“It will be difficult to understand. There are many things that are hard to grasp unless one is a practitioner.”
“Ah, I see.”
To be honest, I didn’t want a detailed explanation. I had no desire to shave my head and shut myself away in the mountains to meditate. If I kept listening, who knew if I’d end up being dragged away by force?
“I suppose you came here to look at the weapons.”
“To look, yes. But I wasn’t looking at the weapons themselves; I was observing the auras contained within them. Every single aura here belongs to someone who burned themselves out until their final moment. Our Goddess loves that kind of heat. And we, who serve her, are the same.”
It was truly the kind of thing a religious man who had spent his life meditating in the mountains would say. Based on experience, the right answer in these situations was to listen silently rather than pepper them with questions. Religious folk all seemed to have a talent for talking non-stop; the moment you opened a dialogue, hours would vanish in the blink of an eye.
“…Liam, the Small Gladiator. That was your name, wasn’t it? I understand you recently earned a new nickname: the Sword Demon.”
When I remained silent, Gladiator Helen spoke again.
“I saw a wonderful aura in you as well. I have spent my entire life training in the Sky Mountain Range, so it hasn’t been long since I entered the secular world, but even in the Empire, I have never seen a human who harbors such solid Steel within them.”
“….”
“I feel that we will meet again someday in the Sky Mountain Range. When that time comes, come find us. Those who serve the sun will welcome you. We love those who possess an unbreakable hardness.”
“….”
“It has grown quite late. I shall take my leave now, mysterious fighter.”
With those words, Gladiator Helen gave me a slight bow, his face still wearing that serene smile.
“May the eternal day be with you.”
It was the greeting of those who served Rebrua, the Goddess of the Sun. Though awkward, I followed Helen’s lead, clasping my hands and bowing in return. Leaving behind those cryptic words, Helen departed.
「The Sky Mountain Range. I suppose I’ll have to go there eventually.」
“….”
「But not yet. That place is too dangerous for the current you.」
I agreed with Liam’s assessment.
The Sky Mountain Range.
The most massive and magnificent mountain range on the continent, adjacent to the Sky Empire of Velma. It was a region said to be the gathering place of all the continent’s mysteries.
The legend that anyone who conquered the summit of the Sky Mountain Range could grant any wish was something everyone living on the continent had heard at least once. For that reason, countless explorers throughout history had thrown their lives away trying to climb it, all for the sake of glory.
However, to this day, only one race among the seven had ever conquered the summit.
「Yes, not yet.」
Dragons.
The other name for that place was the Land of Dragons.
* * *
“I see you’ve fully recovered, Young Master.”
Just as I was browsing the Hall of Fame after my conversation with the Monk, Caretaker Tom appeared from the inner section. Despite the late hour, his face was bright, showing no signs of fatigue.
“Ah, yes.”
“Did you come to look around as soon as you woke up? Your passion is truly overflowing.”
“A fighter belonging to the Arena should always know how to stoke their fervor by looking at the traces of struggle.”
“As expected, the Young Master is the best….”
Tom clapped his hands in admiration at the flattery that now rolled off my tongue without a second thought.
“So, what kind of sword do you desire this time? Since you’ve earned a medal of a new color, you have the right to take one from here.”
“I wonder. I’m contemplating which fighter I should join forces with to become even more courageous.”
I hummed, looking at the displayed blades with a contemplative face. In truth, to my eyes, they were all just antiques that looked more or less the same—worn-out blades that looked like they had been made ages ago. Choosing a good weapon here was entirely Liam’s job.
“Shall I explain them one by one? The ‘Fang’ you took last time is also a fine piece. It was the weapon of a nameless Assassin who was active in Free City Crowde in the past.”
“Ah.”
“He was an assassin who constantly struggled for freedom during his life. He was very active in this Arena in his youth, and his declaration of struggle for freedom until his final moment was so impressive that we at the Arena acquired his weapon through an auction. An inevitable struggle for freedom… and the fighting spirit that refused to back down even before a great fire. Isn’t it magnificent? I’m certain Goddess Lefri welcomed him gladly.”
“Ah, yes….”
“Furthermore—”
When I didn’t say anything, Caretaker Tom excitedly began his spiel. As I listened to the history of weapons I wasn’t even curious about, I kept glancing at Liam. I desperately wanted to stop the history lesson and just pick a weapon already.
“This blade would also suit the Young Master well. It’s the spear of a certain lame fighter who never stopped participating in duels despite losing a leg. What do you think? Doesn’t just hearing the story make you feel like you’re listening to a bard’s song? Reality truly is more magnificent than any chivalric novel. In that regard, I—”
Please.
I felt like my ears were going to start bleeding. Caretaker Tom was a truly good person and a kind elder, but he talked too much. The moment swords were involved, there was no sign of his chatter ever stopping. If he had a glass of beer to go with it, he could probably explain every single sword in this Hall of Fame until the Infinite Duel ended and still have more to say.
「Pick that one.」
While I was forcing a smile and playing along with Tom, Liam’s voice finally rang out. I beamed and turned toward the direction Liam indicated. However….
“…?”
「I didn’t pick wrong. That’s the one, young descendant.」
The blade Liam told me to pick was a bit strange. Though many of the swords he had chosen so far were unique, this one was exceptionally peculiar even compared to the others. But Liam spoke firmly, as if reading my mind.
「Pick that one. Right now, that sword will suit you best.」
If he went that far, I couldn’t refuse. My Master was always right when it came to swords. With a half-doubting expression, I stared intently at the sword Liam pointed out. Noticing my gaze, Tom stopped talking.
“It seems you’ve fallen for the sword over there.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Falling for a sword is much like falling in love with a woman. The moment your eyes meet, your heart is stolen in an instant.”
Caretaker Tom let out a hearty laugh upon seeing my expression. It seemed he had mistaken my skeptical look for the face of a man who had fallen in love at first sight.
“It’s a peculiar blade, but it’s a sword with plenty of charm. Shall I give you this one?”
“Yes.”
At my word, Caretaker Tom smiled and carefully lifted one of the displayed swords. The sword Tom handed me was incredibly light. No, it had to be light.
Because…
“Please treat it with care.”
The blade of the weapon I had chosen was missing half its length. To be precise…
“The name of that sword is ‘Gale’.”
It was a broken sword.
* * *
A broken sword.
Among all the blades I had consumed so far, none had been this damaged. No matter how old they were, most swords maintained enough of their form to serve their purpose. But ‘Gale’ was different. Not only was the blade snapped, but it was also completely corroded, looking like an item that didn’t even have value as an antique.
The fact that most of the other blades in the Hall of Fame were in decent condition also played a part. The rest were well-maintained, no matter how old they were. But this sword had neither had its rust removed nor its broken blade restored.
Caretaker Tom had explained it this way:
“Because that damaged form is the most meaningful. It is the form that perfectly shows the will of the fighter contained within ‘Gale’. That is why we left it alone without performing any restoration work.”
I couldn’t quite understand Tom’s words. After returning to the lodging with the broken sword, I placed ‘Gale’ into the blazing fire to heat it. The sudden surge of heat made even my skin feel scorched.
「Young descendant.」
“Yes.”
「You must focus your mind even more when digesting this sword.」
“Why is that?”
Liam had never said anything like this before. When I asked the question that arose from my doubt, the answer came immediately.
「Because the will contained in that blade is powerful enough to swallow you whole.」
Will.
What kind of will was contained in it to warrant such a warning? Every blade I had eaten so far contained a diverse array of lives. Even if their realm was low, Mary the Swordswoman’s ‘Needle’ held the fierce life of a mercenary; ‘Fang’ held the life of an assassin who yearned for freedom; ‘Twilight’ held the life of my kind neighbor Petel; and ‘Wildness’ held the life of the great Orc Warrior Berik, who fought to the very end.
All those lives were intense. None could be called insignificant.
“I will overcome it.”
Because I believed that, I could speak with confidence.
「……Very well. Keep a tight grip on your sanity.」
Without knowing what kind of wretched life might be contained within that sword, I picked up the sufficiently heated blade and put it in my mouth. As I ground the metal of ‘Gale’ between my teeth and swallowed it down, a heat that felt like my entire body was boiling spread rapidly. Along with it, memories surged in like a tidal wave.
『You told me.』
『That I am like the wind.』
『I agree with those words.』
And then. The scent of blood wafted in. A truly, incredibly intense scent of blood.
『My life was like a single gust of wind.』
『And so was my sword.』
* * *
Quite some time had passed since Arhan and his party arrived at Steel City Ferma. Seol-yoon carried out a schedule here similar to what she did at Arhan’s estate. It was a routine she had always followed even during her days as a gladiator in the Arena, so it was familiar to her.
As the days went by, countless people gathered in Steel City.
Among them were many fighters whom even Seol-yoon could not take lightly. Not only that, but even those who were rarely seen appeared. Elves, the eternal race that never leaves the Great Forest; the Demon Race, descendants of demons who guard the Wall of Despair on the Northern Continent; and various heroes who were famous throughout the continent.
The people gathered in one place made one realize just how massive an event the Infinite Duel was. So many people gathered until it reached a point where it was difficult to even walk the streets of Ferma during the day.
Finally, the day of the Infinite Duel that everyone had been waiting for dawned.
And.
“You….”
“Ah, I almost made it late. I’m on time, right?”
Arhan, who appeared after a long absence, looked quite different. It wasn’t his appearance. His aura had changed.
Yes, it was as if….
“Let’s go. To participate in the Infinite Duel.”
Like a Ronin wandering the continent.
