“Stop… just stop.”
Four knights had already been defeated.
“Stop…”
Only one remained.
Meken, the former Vice-Captain of the Yellow Elephant, was the last man standing, fighting until the bitter end. In truth, it could hardly be called a fight. Meken’s swordsmanship, which I had found pathetic even back when I was a mere Sword Walker, was still just as poor. His skill? He might have gained an extra wing to his rank, but otherwise, he hadn’t changed a bit.
It was impossible for Meken—who had lost to me even when I was a lowly Sword Walker—to defeat me now. Every time our wooden swords clashed, his body buckled. Blood-flecked phlegm spilled from his lips, the result of the Mana Shock triggered by my Heart of Steel.
“Now, stop…”
Meken could no longer even stand upright.
The other knights nearby squeezed their eyes shut and turned their heads away. Only Sir Bermartin stared intently at the sword I wielded, as if searching for something hidden within my movements. But I didn’t have the luxury of time to show him whatever it was he hoped to see.
“…That’s enough!”
Meken finally collapsed, unable to endure any longer. As the battered knight lost consciousness, Bermartin raised his hand to end the trial. Four knights had been defeated long ago, and the last had been tormented until he fainted. No one shouted that I lacked the qualification anymore. There was no longer any suspicion in the eyes that watched me—only a profound sense of exhaustion.
“Arhan, you are a more tenacious man than I thought.”
“I hear that often.”
Bermartin let out a hollow laugh at my reply.
After studying me for a moment, he stroked his beard and murmured, “Follow me. I have something to show you.”
*
Bermartin led me to his office. The room was impeccably organized. It wasn’t just neat; it was borderline obsessive. Everything was aligned perfectly, with nothing out of place. Upon entering, Bermartin spoke.
“I tend to be a bit of a stickler for order.”
“It seems like more than just a bit.”
“True, I am somewhat obsessed. It’s a habit from my time in the Steel Legion. In the army, if you made a mess of the barracks or neglected your chores, you’d be beaten with a club. It’s been a long time since I was discharged, but the habit is still ingrained in my bones.”
Bermartin chuckled softly.
He walked to the back of the office and brought out a bottle of wine. It carried the sharp, pungent aroma of grapes. He took out two glasses and poured them half-full, placing one on his desk and handing the other to me.
“The demonstration just now was magnificent. Not only would an average Sword Runner fail to match you, but even seasoned knights are no longer your equal. With this, there will be no issues with the paperwork I submit to the Steel Legion. Everyone from the order who was there today felt your strength firsthand.”
“That is a relief.”
“Personally, I wanted you to experience the Steel Legion. I know most men hate the military. It isn’t pleasant to have your freedom stripped away, to be divided by rank, and to live like a tool obeying a superior’s orders. However… there is a certain brilliance that can only be found amidst the dust of the battlefield. I, Bermartin, found many lights there.”
Bermartin smiled.
And then, his tone shifted.
“Of course, you cannot actually join the Steel Legion. A Caravan serving under Ian Chervil—nothing could be more ridiculous. There cannot be two Steels under one sky.”
“…”
With those words, the air in the office grew heavy. I met Bermartin’s gaze as he stared at me. Instead of remaining silent, I spoke.
“Sir Bermartin.”
“Speak.”
“What do you know of the Caravan?”
Bermartin remained silent for a moment. It was a question I had wanted to ask before but hadn’t. But unlike then, I now had the right. I had the right to ask what I was curious about and to uncover the hidden truth.
“…I know of them.”
“How?” I pressed for more detail. “So far, I have encountered others who knew of the Caravan. An Orc Shaman who lived for ages; a Dwarf General who guarded his race; and a Witch who served the Father of the Sky. All of them were either directly or indirectly connected to the Caravan family, could communicate with the spiritual world to access ancient knowledge, or were ancient beings themselves.”
“…”
“But Sir Bermartin, it is strange for you to know of them. The name Caravan has been erased from history. So I ask again. Sir Bermartin, how do you know of the Caravan that has vanished from the world?”
Bermartin hesitated briefly. Soon, instead of answering with words, the old knight stood up and walked toward the office wall. He drew his sword from his waist. The blade gleamed brilliantly, reflecting the sunlight.
“How do I know, you ask…”
Bermartin murmured before raising his sword. Suddenly, he thrust the blade into the wall. The steel sank into the surface with ease, as if he were plunging it into water. At the same time, a mechanical click echoed, like a key turning in a lock.
“I will tell you one thing first. Even I, Bermartin, do not know everything.”
With a grinding sound, the wall began to open. A space about the size of a palm appeared around the embedded sword. Bermartin reached into the gap and pulled out an old book. An all-too-familiar emblem was engraved upon its cover.
“I only know a part of it. A very small fragment of what has been forgotten.”
It was the wolf emblem that symbolized the Caravan family.
After seeing it, I asked, “Where did you find that?”
“I did not find it.”
“…Then?”
“It found me.”
Bermartin brushed the dust off the old book.
“Descendant of Steel.”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever heard of the Land of Swords?”
*
The Blade Palace.
In the palace where a cold silence reigned, a sharp clack rang out. It was the sound of a chess piece being moved. The bishop in Ian Chervil’s hand moved forward. The opponent sitting across from the new king on the Iron Throne was a woman draped in an ornate robe.
“Was the plan called ‘Whirlwind’? It was a spectacular sight. To bring all the pieces onto the board with a single move… it was quite exquisite.”
“Was it?”
“Yes. It was impressive. But regardless of how impressive it was, I find myself wondering if it was a move you can actually handle.”
“A move I can handle?”
“Yes. At this rate, won’t even this insignificant kingdom be swept away by the whirlwind you’ve created? The Iron Kingdom is an old nation, but it isn’t as powerful as the great powers of the continent. The Iron Kingdom cannot withstand the whirlwind you’ve unleashed. It will be broken, collapsed, and left in ashes. No matter if you have the Foremost Sword of the Continent and the masters of the sky on your side, winning against the entire continent as your enemy is impossible.”
Clack.
The woman moved her knight.
Ian Chervil’s bishop was taken.
“You aren’t wrong. The Great Land, the Sky Empire, the Black Archipelago… if the nations standing at the peak of the continent decide to attack in earnest, the Iron Kingdom will be torn apart in an instant. This country was destined for destruction from the moment it was founded. A nation that cannot be sustained without constant war. Is it not an incomplete state?”
“Are you admitting it was a failed plan?”
“No.”
Ian Chervil moved his rook.
Straight forward.
“You fail to see the forest for the trees.”
“What do you mean?”
“The whirlwind I created brought everyone onto the board. But how would the pieces on the board know who put them there?”
“…?”
“The Free Fleet that first encountered the Steel Legion was wiped out. Most residents of the Free Cities did not see the reality of the war with their own eyes. Information was also strictly controlled. Furthermore, the Rhapsody family, who could verify the truth, is in a position where they cannot return to the Free Cities. In the midst of this chaos, the master of Rhapsody has rebelled against the Nine Goddesses and the Seven Chief Gods. The Sky Empire will soon declare Rhapsody an enemy. The charge: abandoning their sacred duty.”
“Ah.”
Ian Chervil’s pieces moved.
“The citizens do not truly understand sacred duties or laws. They will only know that Rhapsody committed some crime. What do you think will happen if seeds of discord are sown at that moment? For instance, that Rhapsody sold the six Free Cities to the Iron Kingdom for their own profit. That is why the Legion of Freedom was absent, and why the lowly Steel Fleet could break through the Free Fleet and land. Furthermore, to hide this terrible deed, Rhapsody executed all the outsiders visiting the Free Cities. The Iron Kingdom stepped in urgently but could not protect the outsiders, only barely managing to save the citizens of the Free Cities. The Iron Kingdom is deeply saddened by this turn of events.”
“…If you spread such lies, do you think Rhapsody will just sit still?”
“From the moment the seeds of discord are sown, they are in a difficult position no matter what they do. That is what politics is.”
Ian Chervil’s opponent, the woman, burst into laughter.
“Then it will be a ridiculous sight. They will hate the wrong enemy without even knowing who threw them onto the board, shedding blood as they point their swords and spears at the wrong places. Meanwhile, the Iron Kingdom just has to sit back and grow in size. Haha, you take the milk and honey while Rhapsody pays the price in responsibility and guilt? Diverting the arrows meant for the Iron Kingdom and pitting other large powers against each other through such tactics. Making them forget the essence and fight amongst themselves in division! Ha, hahahaha! This is a plan only a demon would come up with!”
“History is written by the victors.”
Ian Chervil smiled, resting his chin on his hand.
As their laughter echoed, the woman spoke.
“So, when will you give us a pretext to act? Surely you didn’t call us out just to deal with the old and insignificant fleet of the Free Cities.”
“Wait just a little longer.”
Ian Chervil touched his rook.
“Your turn will come soon.”
“It’s hard to wait.”
“After waiting for over a hundred years?”
“That’s why it’s hard. After being huddled in a cramped nest and finally coming out into the world, I can’t go back to that nest again. You don’t know how long we’ve looked forward to this moment.”
The woman gave a predatory smile.
“Chervil.”
As she spoke his name, her eyes momentarily turned reptilian. They weren’t human pupils; her true form’s eyes were revealed.
“So, when will you deal with the last trace of Steel? We heard that your executioner failed to complete his mission perfectly.”
“What’s the rush? No matter how great that Steel is, right now he is nothing more than a pawn on a chessboard.”
“Arrogant words. Chervil, a pawn on a chessboard can become anything once it reaches the end. A lowly pawn can become a queen or a rook.”
“But it can never become a king.”
At Ian Chervil’s words, the woman let out a sharp exhale.
“That’s true. Honestly, I agree. Even in their greatest era, they never became kings. They only ever remained as swords.”
“Then why do you fear them?”
“I don’t fear the likes of the Caravan. Their era is over. But the old dragons… the ancient dragons of the highest heavens are different. They still haven’t forgotten the Caravan. They still fear them, and they fear the re-establishment of the Age of Iron. It’s ridiculous. Beings so much more powerful than me and the other young dragons, trembling because of a mere remnant of the past.”
The chess piece in the woman’s hand was crushed with a crack .
“A forgotten family that no one remembers anymore. Because of that one family, the greatest dragons have lived huddled away for ages. I can’t stand it anymore. All the young dragons, including myself, feel the same way.”
The woman stared directly at Ian Chervil.
“Chervil, do as you wish. But as long as the last descendant of the Caravan lives, the true dragons who have lived since the Mythical Era will never come out into the world. If you need them, break the Steel. Then all dragons will gladly swear loyalty to you.”
Ian Chervil listened to her words calmly.
Without a change in expression, he replied dryly.
“I’ll handle that myself.”
*
Bermartin stroked the old book.
“It’s a story from a long time ago. From a time when I, Bermartin, was even younger than you. Back then, I was a lowly swordsman with no decent master and no guaranteed future.”
“…”
“The reason I made a name for myself in the Iron Kingdom, became the commander of a knight order, and survived countless wars… all the glories of this insignificant old man originated from the traces of Steel. It was thanks to a small blessing brought by the Land of Swords.”
Bermartin slowly held the book out to me.
“I received a small amount of help, and in return, I made a promise.”
“A promise?”
“To guard this until a true descendant of Steel appeared, and to hand it over when someone qualified arrived. And to help that descendant achieve their goals.”
Bermartin’s expression was resolute.
“I believe it is time to return it to its original owner. Qualified descendant of Steel, take back what is yours. This old man has lived as ‘Sir Bermartin of Steel’ until now for this very purpose. To keep an old promise.”
The original owner.
Qualification.
Hearing those words, I looked at the old book for a moment. Then I turned my gaze to my master. Liam was staring at the book with a strange expression.
“Is this our property?”
「It is. An item of the Caravan.」
“Then…”
「Do not ask me; do as you wish. Whether you take it or not, not much will change. However, you will come to know things you haven’t known until now.」
“…”
「Knowledge can be a strength, but ignorance can be bliss. Young descendant, I do not know if this will be a strength or a poison to you. The choice is entirely yours. The only right path I can show you is the sword.」
Liam slowly turned his head toward me.
「What is contained here is the soul of another of your ancestors.」
“Another ancestor?”
「The Caravan was born through me. But during the era of glory the Caravan enjoyed, many swords were born. This is an item containing another of your ancestors who lived through the Age of Iron.」
Another ancestor.
It wasn’t a shocking revelation.
The Caravan was a family. A family is a group of people bound by blood, and if it was a great family that dominated an era, there would naturally have been many figures. Other great individuals besides Liam.
「The choice is yours, young descendant.」
I slowly picked up the old book.
I answered shortly after.
“I will open it.”
「Do so.」
“But do not misunderstand.”
I looked away from the book and met Liam’s eyes.
Then I gave a smirk.
“I only have one master.”
Liam smiled back at my words.
「You certainly have a way with words.」
“I know.”
「Do not expect too much. Whoever is in there won’t be able to give you anything more brilliant than what I have given. I am an unkind and strict master, but since the world was born, there has never been a sword superior to me.」
“…”
「I am the best. You know that, don’t you?」
I opened the cover of the old book.
As I did, I spoke.
“You certainly have a way with words too, Master.”
「Impudent brat.」
With that, the world I saw began to lose its color, turning into shades of black and white. In the next moment, everything came to a halt as if time had stopped. In the middle of this frozen world, rusted swords suddenly appeared and plunged into the ground all at once, like tombstones in a graveyard.
A heavy air settled over the scene.
Amidst the stiffening atmosphere, voices rang out.
“Bermartin kept his promise.”
“I thought he wouldn’t be able to keep it before he died of old age.”
“It’s for the best. I was getting tired of staying in the Middle Realm.”
With those dignified voices, specters appeared. They had transparent bodies like my master, floating in the air like ghosts. The specters that appeared in the frozen world looked down at me from above. Among them was a young man who looked about my age, an old man who looked older than Liam, and a woman of beautiful appearance. After watching me for a moment, the specters spoke.
“Welcome to the Small Land of Swords, child.”
