“Don’t be stubborn, child. The aid we can provide is limited. There are boundaries to what we can do for you. Cast aside these delusions and for now…”
“I refuse.”
“Even if you intend to keep fighting, isn’t it better to have a final means of escape? Please, listen to your ancestors. Do you think we’re doing this for our own sake? It’s all for you—”
“I don’t want to.”
“Just who do you take after to be this headstrong? It wasn’t like this in our day. When the ancestors spoke, the descendants would say, ‘Yes, thank you,’ and—”
“No.”
“…”
I held the overwhelming upper hand in this conversation. How? In any argument, the one who refuses to listen always wins. Persuasion and conciliation only work when there is a mutual exchange of ideas. Since I kept repeating the same answer, the ancestors eventually gave up. They had accepted my resolve. As expected, the Face of Steel is always right. Long live Master.
“Fine. If that is your wish, there is nothing more we can do. Even the Progenitor is staying by your side, so what could we, mere insignificants, possibly achieve? The world of the living must flow according to the will of the living.”
The ancestors finally accepted that I was not a man of compromise. I wish they’d realized it sooner; the time wasted until now was a pity. As I stood there blinking, the ancestors let out a deep sigh.
“You will never learn the art of retreating from a Swordmaster.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will also fail to see fragments of forgotten history. You will witness even fewer moments than Bermartin did. Are you truly fine with not seeing the moments when the Caravan family fell?”
“It is merely the past. What I need is the strength to live in the present and the power to forge a future. If there is something to learn from history, I will learn it, but I don’t believe now is the time to look back.”
“Those words carry a strangely deep meaning. Fine, we understand.”
The three specters looked at me.
“Then, draw your sword.”
*
The three specters taught me many things. They showed me the orthodox application of the Steel Wings. They explained that ‘Immovability,’ which I had realized during my duel with Edan Rhapsody, was an ingenious improvisation but not the technique’s original purpose.
“Because it does not move, it becomes the ultimate defense and offense. It is a solid method. However, the style you’ve devised is excessively focused on dealing with ‘the Strong.’”
“Your entire way of fighting with the swords you’ve devoured is like that. You have cultivated your sword solely to face those more powerful than yourself. To an obsessive degree.”
“That isn’t a bad thing, child. However, not every enemy you face in the future will be a Sword Expert or a Swordmaster. You must know how to triumph over enemies weaker than you—those who are weak, but many.”
“Because from now on, there will be many such battles.”
The specters were right.
I was no longer the absolute underdog. I had become a Sword Runner, and by utilizing the mysteries I’d realized and the blades I’d devoured, I could hold a significant advantage even against a fellow Sword Runner.
“We will teach you the proper way to use the Steel Wings. In addition, we will pass down the Caravan’s sword techniques that we developed independently, rather than the methods created by the Progenitor.”
“Regrettably, we cannot pass down all three. Considering the authority permitted in this Small Land of Swords, we can only pass on one at most.”
Another sword of the Caravan.
That alone was worth giving up the rest. I looked at the three specters in turn: the old man, the young man, and the beautiful woman. Which of the three would suit me best?
“Hmm, if we’re talking about a sword that suits you, then naturally—”
Would it be the young man, who seemed similar to me in age and build? Or the old man? As I pondered, a refreshing voice rang out.
“—Naturally, I think my sword would be the best.”
The one who spoke was the specter I hadn’t even considered as a candidate.
The lovely woman. A woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties slowly approached me, holding a rusted sword. I stared at her blankly.
“Child, why the long face? Are you disappointed that I’m the one giving you mine?”
To be honest, I was.
It wasn’t simply because of her gender. I felt a sharp edge from the young man and a solid sturdiness from the old man. But from the woman, I felt nothing. I only felt a warm, motherly coziness.
“Yes, a little—”
However.
“Disappoi…”
The moment the sword in her hand tilted and pointed at me, I realized I had been mistaken. For a fleeting moment, the woman became the master of this entire space. She became an absolute being, incomparable to the young man or the old man.
“…”
“Still?” the woman asked with a bright smile.
I shook my head immediately.
“No, it’s the perfect sword for me. Please forgive your incredibly foolish descendant. From the very beginning, I was dying to inherit that magnificent sword.”
“Haha, child. You really are peculiar.”
The rusted sword spun once in the woman’s hand.
“Even if I pass it down, it will only be a single strand of the sword. I decided to give you my sword because you and I are alike, child.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You’re just like me.”
The woman gave a playful smile.
“A naturally weak body, a lack of talent, a beautiful face. And on top of that…”
Inside that beautiful smile…
“…the fact that you lived for revenge—all of it.”
…a cold dagger was hidden.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, child.”
That was the first female Swordmaster.
“I hope my ‘White Night’ proves valuable to you.”
It was my first meeting with Aria Caravan.
*
Time in the Small Land of Swords passed quickly. Their teachings consisted only of words, yet they melted into me as naturally as if I were devouring and digesting a sword. In a space made of complete darkness, it was impossible to track the passage of time. By the time I felt I had learned enough, the ancestors spoke.
“It is time to part ways.”
I didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like a mere instant.
“I truly wanted to say this.”
As the darkness began to crack and the forms of the specters grew faint, they placed their hands on my head with proud expressions. All three specters spoke in perfect unison, with sincere, unvarnished truth.
“Thank you. For staying alive.”
My heart felt strangely full. While I was still processing their sincerity, the Small Land of Swords began to slowly crumble. Sensing the moment of farewell, Aria Caravan’s lips moved. At the final moment, she spoke.
“Child, if you survive, go to the Dwarf Kingdom.”
“The Dwarf Kingdom…?”
“There, you will find a clue.”
The specters began to splinter and vanish. Aria Caravan’s body was also fading away. Her faint voice echoed like a lingering memory.
“A clue to transcendence lies within the Golden Treasury. The possibility for you to survive until the very end…”
With that, I was forcibly banished from the Small Land of Swords.
『The Age of Iron has fallen.』
『The sword that broke us said:』
A faint voice echoed in my mind.
『You should never have appeared in this world. The Caravan must vanish. I will erase the name of Steel from this entire continent. I will tear down every last bit of that loathsome Steel.』
『Those who forget history are doomed to repeat the same mistakes.』
『Therefore, let the surviving Descendant of Steel remember.』
A part of forgotten history. A tiny fragment of that past was delivered to me.
『Do not face the Sword of the Sky.』
『They are the natural enemy of Steel.』
*
“Gasp!”
When I opened my eyes, I was back in Bermartin’s office.
“Are you awake now? Was the history well-delivered…?”
Bermartin was watching me. He was about to ask something else, but at that moment, the old book caught fire. The sudden blaze turned the ancient tome into a pile of ash. The flames consumed only the book itself before dying out, as if they had ignited solely for that purpose.
Bermartin stared at the ash in silence.
“…It seems it was well-delivered.”
Bermartin stopped what he was going to say and gathered the black ash. He took a glass bottle from a drawer and carefully placed the ash inside. As he put the bottle back, he spoke.
“It is an honor to have been able to keep an old promise, Arhan. It’s a pity to part with the masters I served while fulfilling that promise. I never once had a conversation with them, but I grew quite attached.”
Bermartin looked both happy and bittersweet. It made sense. According to the ancestors, Bermartin had served them for decades, from the time he was a lowly swordsman until now. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling a long breath before managing a smile.
“So, was what you received valuable?”
I closed my eyes briefly, recalling what I had gained in the Small Land of Swords.
“Very much so.”
At my answer, Bermartin let out a soft chuckle.
“Those are gratifying words. However, my promise is not yet over. The promise I must keep is not just delivering an object, but becoming a reliable ally to the Descendant of Steel. That is the reason I took the name Bermartin of Steel. It is why a lowly swordsman like me was able to inherit the name of Steel.”
Knight Commander Bermartin.
“If there is anything I can do to help, just say the word. This old man is a knight of some renown in Blade City. Even within the Ash Knights, there are few with the skill to defeat me. Furthermore, the connections, trust, and political information I’ve built over decades—these are things that cannot be easily obtained. I will help you with anything you desire. Truly, anything.”
A titan of Blade City had become my collaborator.
*
I am not the kind of person who refuses what is given. I am someone who receives with great gratitude. So, without hesitation, I requested all sorts of help from Bermartin—from the supplies our party needed immediately to bypassing the procedures for leaving the border.
“These tasks are easier than twisting a child’s wrist.”
Bermartin first handled our military issues by drafting the necessary documents. Procedures for leaving the border? With Bermartin’s signature, it was a free pass. An old knight who hadn’t caused trouble for decades—in terms of ‘trust,’ Bermartin was the number one knight in Blade City. The help of such a figure was extremely welcome.
What our party lacked most was exactly the kind of trust one could present to others. A cranky witch, a caretaker who was a former gladiator, a young country lord, a young girl who was a black mage’s apprentice, a war-orphan Eastern gladiator, an orc who spoke like a noble… it was a chaotic mess of a combination that was far removed from the word ‘trust.’ But now?
“Sir Bermartin’s signature? I believe you, then.”
I had acquired an all-purpose signature that made everyone smile. Bermartin’s signature was invincible.
“Is there anything else I can help with?”
“No, not for now.”
“Then where do you plan to go next?”
“I’ll likely go to meet my party.”
At my words, Bermartin gave a short laugh.
“Regrettably, it seems it’s time to say goodbye. My heart wishes to join you on your journey, but this old man will be of more help by continuing to hold his position in Blade City. While I am a knight of some fame here, once I step out into the continent, I’ll just be ‘an old man with a bit of skill.’”
Sir Bermartin even possessed humility. An elder who wasn’t an old fogey but had perfect self-objectivity. I could have given him a standing ovation, truly.
“You’re much better than my Master.”
「…」
While Liam remained silent, Bermartin saw me off and informed me of things to watch out for outside the borders of the Iron Kingdom. Precautions for camping, rules to follow in the Sky Empire, and taboos to avoid. They were all useful. As he sent me on my way, Bermartin even provided a pouch heavy with Steel Gold Coins. He added that a man loses his confidence when his pockets are light.
Although I, a premier customer of the Red Bank, likely had more money, I never let it show. Mixing a pitiful expression with one of deep emotion, I spoke with all my heart.
“Thank you… truly…”
Even my eyes, which looked ready to shed tears at any moment, were perfect.
And so, having gained plenty, I stepped out of the Yellow Elephant Knights’ building. It was the luckiest day I’d had recently. I felt like designating today as a commemorative day for the Caravan estate. A name like ‘Bermartin Day’ would be more than enough.
…Why didn’t I notice the signs back then?
It was something that had happened several times before. It was always like that.
「Laugh all you want now.」
On days when my luck was incredibly good and everything was going smoothly…
「As much as you can.」
A truly shitty event always occurred. Something unbearable.
Truly, very, shitty events…
