“A soul inside a blade? What kind of nonsense is that?”
Nonsense.
Yes, that was what everyone told him.
“You must have heard some idle gossip. Don’t let such rumors distract you; just prepare for your next match. All of Steel City is chanting your name. A gladiator on the cusp of becoming a ‘Sword Expert’? It’s a miracle. Soon, the entire Iron Kingdom will know who you are.”
A blade was just a blade.
There was no way a soul could dwell in such a tool. Souls resided only within the bodies of the seven races created by the Nine Goddesses and the Seven Chief Gods. A soul dwelled in a vessel of flesh and blood, and when that vessel died, the living spirit returned to the side of the gods. That was common sense.
“By tomorrow, you will enjoy an honor no gladiator in history has ever attained. No one will ever look down on gladiators as mere swordsmen again, nor will they mock our duels as the playthings of the lowly. You are going to change history, Tom.”
Pat, pat.
The sensation of those hands clapping his shoulders was still vivid.
The young Tom remembered the heat of that day. Everyone was swelling with anticipation, everyone was dreaming a magnificent dream, and everyone was looking only at him. It was the greatest moment of his life, both as a man and as a gladiator. But why?
“I’m sorry.”
Tom betrayed their expectations.
At that glorious moment everyone yearned for, at the time when he could have shone the brightest, Tom was looking elsewhere. He looked toward the darkest corner of the majestic amphitheater—a place that smelled of shadows and musty mold. A display case that no one cared about. A place where rusted blades were kept for decoration.
“That isn’t the future I want.”
The Hall of Fame.
Tom’s eyes were fixed only on that place.
Even in his most glorious moment.
* * *
When she first heard the story about an ‘Orc Shaman’ from Hailyn, Audrey thought the girl had misunderstood something. A human who was friends with an Orc Shaman? If her sisters had heard it, they would have clutched their stomachs and roared with laughter, telling her to stop making such impossible jokes.
That was why Audrey had asked Hailyn several times if it was true.
To every question, Hailyn had nodded vigorously, her face looking as if she couldn’t understand why Audrey didn’t believe her.
Seeing Hailyn’s expression, Audrey assumed the young girl was mistaken. She thought Hailyn had either mistaken an ordinary human shaman for an Orc or had taken a joke made by the Descendant of Steel as the truth.
The phrase ‘friends with an Orc Shaman’ was just that unrealistic. As a formally trained Witch, Audrey knew very well how prickly and bizarre shamans could be. Shamans, who communicated with the spiritual world and handled countless spirits, were often even more eccentric than wizards. And among those shamans, ‘Orc Shamans’ were nothing short of walking disasters.
What kind of race were the Orcs? They were a race that would scream for a duel to the death the moment they encountered any enemy. Their brains were pickled in combat; they were a race where logic didn’t exist, and every right or wrong was decided by a duel. From a wizard’s perspective, Orcs were a barbaric race no different from monsters—ignorant beings who solved every conflict with violence. Therefore, the words ‘Orc’ and ‘Shaman’ did not belong together.
Orcs were born with barbarism, violence, and ignorance as their default settings. Meanwhile, a shaman was a ‘magical being’ who had to act according to logic and rationality, predicated on cold reason.
Because of this, an ‘Orc Shaman’—who possessed these completely opposite natures simultaneously—was bound to be an unpredictable catastrophe, an esoteric existence that was impossible to understand. Audrey still remembered the antics of an Orc Shaman who had visited her sisters in the past. Despite being a shaman himself, he mocked other mages as ‘tricksters’; despite being a shaman, he beat beasts to death with a savage axe; and while drinking the blood of the slain beasts, he would roar, ‘I am a great warrior!’ To the Witches, who loathed barbarism, the Orc Shaman was utterly horrific.
To make matters worse, every single one of those ‘Orc Shamans’ was incredibly powerful. For such barbaric and ignorant beings to become magical entities, they required a spiritual talent so immense it could suppress their racial characteristics. Consequently, Orc Shamans reigned as beings everyone avoided. They were impossible to talk to, babbled nonsense, and performed bizarre acts. Whenever anyone spoke to them, they would go on a rampage, shouting, ‘I do not listen to the words of those weaker than me!’ And since they were all terrifyingly strong, there was no way to make them listen through force, either…
And yet, there was a human who was friends with one of those lunatics? No matter how much Audrey racked her brain, she couldn’t conjure the image. Instead of talking further, Audrey said she would have to see it for herself, and Hailyn readily agreed to show her.
‘Show me? Show me what?’
Half-doubting, Audrey followed Hailyn to the entrance of the territory. After walking briskly, Hailyn pointed toward the ground.
“Here! The Guardian Stone that the Young Master received from the Orc Elder is buried here. I heard back then that he received it when they became friends…”
Upon hearing Hailyn’s words, Audrey’s expression turned lukewarm. A Guardian Stone? She had already felt that a Guardian Stone with shamanic measures was protecting this land when she entered. But how could a mere Guardian Stone be a token of friendship? There was no magical item easier to obtain. Even the Witches sold items that protected a certain area for a reasonable price. She remembered the Orcs being much the same. She had seen Orcs in need of money putting them on the market for strange prices a few times; it was possible the Descendant of Steel had purchased such an item and then joked that he received it from a friend.
“Hailyn, just because he received a Guardian Stone doesn’t mean they’re frien—”
“No, check for yourself.”
Even as Audrey spoke, Hailyn continued to shake her head. Eventually, Audrey decided she would personally show this sheltered girl how crazy the Orc race was and why it was impossible to be friends with ‘Orc Shamans.’ Audrey closed her eyes and felt the energy of the Guardian Stone buried deep underground. The moment she felt the energy, she gestured in the air, dyeing the surrounding space with her spiritual world. Immediately, the Guardian Stone began to tremble.
“Fine, let’s check.”
As Audrey’s atmosphere shifted, Hailyn reflexively shivered. The bold, complaining girl was gone. In her place stood a Witch. No matter how many flaws she had, a Witch’s magical ability was among the best on the continent.
With a single gesture from Audrey, the shamanic energy contained within the Guardian Stone was extracted. As soon as she pulled the energy out, Audrey sent a mental signal to the stone’s caster. It was a sort of invitation—an invitation to bring a distant magical being into her spiritual world. A moment later, a mental signal of the same kind she had sent returned.
However.
‘…This is a bit more than I bargained for.’
Audrey’s body swayed for a moment. Although Orc Shamans were all powerful, their average level couldn’t compare to a Witch. After all, Witches practiced magic while communicating directly with the Great Father of the Sky. But the presence of the Orc Shaman she felt now far exceeded the ‘average level’ she knew.
While a chill ran down her neck, a voice so loud it felt like it would burst her eardrums echoed through Audrey’s spiritual world.
「Why! Do you! Call me—! You small, young human girl! Did I! Not just let you in without blocking you! I read the constellations and saw you would cause no harm, so I let you pass, yet why do you grab me and bother me when I am busy!」
The moment she heard that thunderous voice, Audrey’s face scrunched up. Just hearing the voice felt barbaric and made her mind dizzy. Her head was already starting to throb. It was certain. It was an Orc.
「Is your husband so incompetent! That you seek an Orc? I may be strong! But I do not touch women who already have a mate! Besides, I absolutely loathe scrawny human girls!」
“Sigh…”
A manner of speech that was the height of vulgarity.
A madman’s attitude, calling the ‘Father of the Sky’—one of the Seven Chief Gods—‘your husband.’ Every aspect of him was so Orcish it left her speechless. Audrey gave up on threats like telling him to watch his tongue or asking if he didn’t fear the heavens. Such threats didn’t work on Orcs whose brains were likely green as well. They were the type of bastards who would laugh ‘Kuhaha!’ whether they were struck by lightning or cast into hell.
Since Audrey didn’t want to exchange many words with an Orc, she intended to ask her prepared question and immediately terminate the mental connection.
However.
“…Oh.”
The Orc Shaman invited into the spiritual world.
The face of the cackling green Orc was somehow familiar. Audrey narrowed her eyes and asked.
“The Guardian of the Holy Land?”
「Oh! Human girl! You know of this Orc Shaman, Sherdic?」
“…It would be stranger not to know.”
Hearing Audrey’s words, Hailyn, standing beside her, widened her eyes. To Hailyn, a novice mage, everything was simply amazing. Not only had Audrey summoned an Orc Shaman just by mumbling something in front of a Guardian Stone, but she even recognized who the summoned shaman was. Hailyn was thinking, ‘As expected, a Witch, a mage among mages, is different.’
While Hailyn looked at Audrey with sparkling eyes, Audrey sighed and looked at the Orc Shaman before her. Orc Shaman Sherdic.
It was stranger for those who practiced the mysteries not to know of this man.
“The Star Guide. The Mad Shaman, Sherdic.”
「Madman, you say. That is a very fine nickname. Puhehe.」
Audrey shook her head as she watched Sherdic laugh, baring his fangs. Sherdic. A powerhouse among the exceptionally powerful Orc Shamans. She didn’t know how the Descendant of Steel had obtained a Guardian Stone from such a giant, but this made things even clearer. There was no way that notorious madman had become friends with the Descendant of Steel, who was a mere 「Sword Walker」.
So, Audrey asked her question with a light heart.
And then.
“I have something to ask. You… I heard you’re friends with the Descendant of Steel… Arhan Caravan. Is that true?”
「Friends? Where did you hear such a thing?」
Hearing the response, Audrey thought, ‘As I expected.’
「That is disappointing! The Successor of Steel and we are not just friends, we are best friends! The Successor of Steel, who proved himself a brave warrior and showed an ‘Orcish’ side, is an Honorary Orc Warrior!」
“…?”
That was, until she heard the words that followed.
「Has something happened to our friend? There were no problems when I read the constellations! Speak quickly, has something happened to my dear friend! He hasn’t died, has he? That cannot be! I was planning to match him with my beautiful daughter, Sherizik!」
For some reason, Audrey felt her consciousness fading.
‘…???’
Truly, completely.
* * *
With every movement, the boy’s appearance changed.
A gypsy dancing as if to pierce the world. A swordswoman. The blade, which had been like a sharp needle rising from smoldering flames, became a completely different weapon when the boy turned his body. A lonely yet upright dagger pursuing freedom. An assassin hidden in the shadows was there. A sharpness was visible that hadn’t been seen when he performed the dagger techniques as a gladiator. It wasn’t just swordsmanship. In that short blade, the life of a person now gone was visible. The dreams he held, the romance, the convictions, the blood, sweat, and tears of a man who struggled to achieve what he wanted—steel and flesh.
Next was a certain knight.
The stubborn and upright sword of a knight who resembled the twilight.
Needle, Fang, Twilight, Wildness, Gale, and Lantern.
There were six swords, and there were six souls who had left this world. And there were the lives of six beings who had stood against the world until the end. Lives that had disappeared but remained unfaded.
“Ah.”
By the time the Sword Dance ended, the sky had turned completely black. A deep night had arrived, one where even the moonlight and starlight could not drive away the darkness. While the sound of crickets was vivid, the boy said nothing. Tom stood still, staring at the boy with a dazed face. In this moment, Tom saw something else in his eyes, not the boy. His younger days, when he had cast aside glory to grasp old antiques. The people who had mocked him and wounded his heart, telling him to stop such pathetic behavior.
A heart that had been festering while he pretended to be fine.
Moments when he had lonely and silently wiped and polished blades that no one cared about. The lives of gladiators he had studied while reading fragmented sentences. Days when he had sat in a dark room drinking and agonizing over whether his choice had been wrong. Times when he had asked himself hundreds of times if there really was a soul in a blade.
“Ah…”
The boy was still silent.
But words were not necessary.
Tom realized that his past time had not been in vain. After seeing that sight just now, who could possibly say that a sword has no soul? If what the boy just displayed was not the soul of the sword, then what on earth was it? Tom felt something hot flowing down his cheek. Without even realizing it, he was shedding tears. An old man’s tears—how unsightly. But the boy did not mock him.
Tom didn’t try to hide his tears, either.
“So, there was… a soul.”
The boy did not answer this time, either.
Under the pouring moonlight, Tom continued.
“Why did you show this old man such a rare sight?”
“I devoured all the blades I took from the Hall of Fame. When you asked where those blades were, I couldn’t answer, so I showed you this to tell you the truth. Those blades have all become one with me.”
“You could have made a trivial excuse, couldn’t you? That you lost them, or that you sold them somewhere because you needed money… I would have understood perfectly. People who place great meaning on old blades are all gone now, and caring for antiques has long been a subject of ridicule. If the Young Master had said that, I would have just given a bitter smile and said, ‘I see.’”
“I didn’t want to lie to a friend.”
The boy smiled.
“That’s all.”
At that moment, Tom’s heart pounded hotly.
The many years the old man had lived flashed by like a panorama. Hard and lonely times. He felt as if all those times were being rewarded. The feeling of seeing with his own eyes that his time had not been wasted was beyond words. Tom wondered: Does that boy know what I’m feeling, or how much gratitude I feel? He couldn’t tell. Tom didn’t know how to look into a person’s inner self. Even with an old man’s wisdom, that was a difficult task.
“Young Master, you have no idea how grateful I am.”
The human heart is such that if you don’t express it, it remains unknown.
“Right now, I feel like I want to do anything for you. Truly, anything. Honestly, if I could, I’d want to steal every blade in the Hall of Fame and give them to you. I want to confirm the souls dwelling in those blades with my own eyes, and I want to feel this thrill again. Truly, desperately.”
“…”
“But that is merely this old man’s wish. Fulfilling an old man’s wish cannot be an expression of gratitude. To express my gratitude, I must be of help to the Young Master.”
So, Tom expressed his heart.
“I have heard your unfortunate story. If this old man were a Sword Master, I would have challenged Swordmaster Carlos, who ruined your life, to a duel without hesitation. To help my precious friend get his revenge. But this old man’s realm is insignificant compared to the Foremost Sword of the Continent.”
“…”
“Furthermore, from what I’ve heard, what you need is not a proxy for revenge. You need something that will make the sword you wield sharper. Something that will make you soar higher, isn’t it? ‘Caravan.’ Something that will make the Steel Blood flowing in your body even harder.”
“That is correct.”
“I will help you.”
Tom, the caretaker of the Hall of Fame.
Tom felt the greatest emotion he had experienced since starting this job. But as a ‘caretaker’ whose only job was managing old blades, there wasn’t much help he could give the boy.
Therefore.
“It is a meager skill, but I will give you any help I can so that you may become even a little stronger.”
In this moment, Tom decided to stop being a caretaker for a while and return to the past.
“First, it seems urgent to help you spread your wings.”
「Sword Expert」.
“For this old man, that is not a difficult task.”
Decades ago.
To the legendary gladiator that everyone knew.
“Truly.”
* * *
Under the moonlight.
I saw Tom with a determined look in his eyes.
「Hmm.」
I only intended to speak truthfully, but he suddenly burst into tears and said he would help me. I wondered if it was really something to be that moved by, but Master finally spat out the words I was thinking to myself.
「What a jackpot.」
“…”
Agreed.
