“I heard a massive commotion broke out in some backwater village over in Verdi.”
It was the kind of story tossed around by drunks in a tavern to pass the time.
“Which village are you talking about?”
“You know, that western village where all those grim rumors were swirling. The one where no one lived.”
“The one where they said a wicked black mage had nested, or a Monster Wave swept through, or some mysterious, horrific plague was spreading?”
“Yeah. That’s the one.”
“Hah, you’ve got poor ears, man. Wasn’t it revealed that those were all just baseless rumors? That village has been growing faster than anywhere else in southern Verdi lately. I heard some Mage Lord settled down there and is building it up as his estate. They say old folks who were scared of wild beasts, farmers who lost their crops to drought, and vagrants with nowhere to go have all gathered there. Everyone wants to go because he takes in anyone.”
“You don’t know the half of it. You’re the one behind on the gossip, my friend.”
The drunks’ voices grew louder, fueled by ale and intrigue.
“Those people who gathered to try and live a better life? Those country bumpkins are fleeing that village again as we speak. There’s a family in our town that just escaped from there.”
“Fleeing? Why?”
“It seems the young lord ruling that tiny village caused some serious trouble. From what I heard, some terrifying Lord Knights arrived to find the young lord, who isn’t even eighteen yet. They even brought along wizards who wield strange mysteries!”
“Good heavens, is that true?”
“I’m telling you, it is.”
In the tavern, where all sorts of stories were traded, the voices of the drunks continued to rise. Louder and louder.
“I don’t know what crime the young lord committed, but they say the knights’ pressure was terrifying. They shouted that he had to be held accountable, though for what, no one knows. But this is the part that’s truly mind-blowing.”
“What happened?”
“That young lord, not even eighteen—the one with blond hair and blue eyes—he supposedly took up a single sword and challenged their highest-ranking noble to a duel.”
“Hah, sounds like the impulsive act of a hot-blooded youth.”
“Tsk, hot-blooded youth? He just takes after his old man.”
“His old man?”
The drunkard clicked his tongue.
“I heard the young lord’s father died after suffering from mania. A severe case of it, too—he actually believed he was the protagonist of some chivalric novel!”
“Oh, dear.”
“In the face of a desperate crisis, the son must have succumbed to the same madness. Losing his mind and falling into some bizarre delusion—”
The drunkard’s voice now echoed throughout the entire tavern, louder even than the ballads sung by the tavern’s bards. Thus, their conversation reached the ears of an old man sipping cheap beer alone in a corner. And that old man could not simply let their words pass by. It was impossible.
“…Excuse me.”
The old man, who had been listening intently, approached the drunks.
“Could I hear more details about that story?”
“Oh, sure, as much as you want.”
The drunks laughed as the old man took a seat. One of them asked, “But why are you so curious about our story?”
“…Because I am from that village.”
“Ah, did you just leave recently?”
“No.”
The old man, having finished his beer, took off his hat.
“I left a very long time ago.”
“….”
“Not during the time of the young lord you speak of, but back when the one who suffered from mania ruled the village. Back when my master was there—the most benevolent man on this continent, whose eyes burned like a boy’s, even as he lost his mind and devised those bizarre plans.”
“Wha—what the? You old man!”
The sight of the old man without his hat was hideous. His scalp was distorted by burns, and half of his face was covered in horrific scars. The drunks recoiled in disgust, spat on the floor, and stood up. The surrounding patrons also hurled insults at him, telling him to get lost, to rot away elsewhere.
“Get out, old man!”
Ultimately, the old man was kicked out of the tavern without hearing the rest of the story. Emerging in his pathetic state, he put his tattered hat back on. He trudged through the night streets and entered a stable. Inside, there was not a horse, but a single donkey. A donkey as aged as the man himself.
“Why are you coming in with such a long face?”
Beside the donkey stood an old woman. She tapped the frail man’s shoulder and cracked a few jokes, but the old man did not respond. In the brief silence that followed, he suddenly spoke.
“I have to go back to my hometown.”
“…After you worked so hard to leave?”
“Yes. I have to go back.”
The old man dragged his frail body and slowly mounted the donkey. The old woman watched him with sorrowful eyes. Feeling her damp gaze, the old man spoke.
“Will you come with me, Nanny?”
“I don’t have the right to go back there.”
“I don’t have the right either.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. We’re both fugitives, aren’t we?”
“Then it’s not a lack of right, but a lack of courage for me.”
The old woman gave a thin smile. Then she said, “Take good care of Young Master Arhan, Butler Sancho.”
*
On the far left.
On the far right.
There were two men.
And there were two swords.
“Whew.”
I took a breath.
Mana flooded my lungs, my second heart began to pound, and for a fleeting moment, the power of a superhuman was granted to me. That granted power dwelled within my blade. But at this moment, I was not the master of this makeshift duel arena. Beyond the sword I held, the man with the other blade was the one dominating the field.
I have to hold on.
Only one piece remained for my plan to succeed.
Toma Rhapsody had sworn in the names of the gods that this was a justified revenge. That meant Toma Rhapsody’s soul was broken. For some reason, he truly believed that I was the one who had brutally murdered his retainers and tarnished his honor.
I must hold on.
According to my guess, this was the Iron Prince’s trickery. And if it was the Iron Prince’s trickery, the one who carried it out would be his executioner—the person the Iron Prince trusted most, and the sharpest sword in his possession: Swordmaster Carlos.
I am the key.
Toma Rhapsody had forgotten the truth. That was why no punishment had fallen upon him despite his oath in the names of the gods. Caretaker Tom had said that with great power comes great responsibility. According to that rule, as a member of a Great Family, Toma Rhapsody should have borne the responsibility. He should have been punished by the omniscient and omnipotent gods. But no punishment occurred. Why? Because Toma Rhapsody believed his lie to be the truth.
These might be the longest ten seconds of my life.
There was only one way to set things right. I had to make Toma Rhapsody remember the truth. To do that, I had to make him recall the final match we fought in the Infinite Duel. I had to make him remember the moment we felt as our swords crossed. I had to recreate that match.
That match.
The collision of Steel and Wave had lasted for ten seconds.
Therefore, ten seconds was enough time for Toma Rhapsody to recall the truth. My sword would drag out the truth hidden deep within his soul. The moment he realized the truth, everything would be overturned. Because he had sworn in the names of the Nine Goddesses and the Seven Chief Gods.
The stage was set. All that remained was my sword.
Even so, I must endure.
The completion of the plan lay at the tip of my blade.
Edan Rhapsody. A powerhouse recognized across the continent. The heir to a Great Family and a Swordmaster candidate. I had to withstand the wrath of a swordsman who couldn’t even be compared to someone like me. It didn’t seem possible. It was an absurd, reckless, and stupid act. But I had to do it.
“Lord Arhan, you can win!”
I had to protect my village. I had to protect my people. I had to be the hero of the commoners.
You must remember these glorious days.
For this moment at least, I had to be a hero.
Always take pride in being a member of the Caravan family, and remember that the blood of Steel flows through your veins. Then, one day, you will be able to reclaim our glory.
Even if people mocked him as mad, even if everyone laughed, even if no one acknowledged him—just like my father, who stood against a massive enemy with a sword in hand. Like the man who stood against the world without retreating until the very end.
“Lord Arhan, do your best—!”
I closed my eyes.
The cheers of the humble, powerless country folk. My residents living on my estate. Their voices gradually transformed into something grand. Darkness came as my eyelids closed. In that darkness, like a pitch-black night sky, a lantern flickered to life. The lantern resembled a star. That star-like light multiplied endlessly.
「How happy were the ages when the starry sky was the map of all possible paths, and when the paths were illuminated by the light of the stars?」
Once upon a time. Longing for the Age of Stars. Like the world the First Monarch had seen.
「And how happy were the ages when the starlight brightly lit that path?」
Leading the wandering masses. Like the world the man who wished to be a lantern had craved.
The world contained within the “Lantern” finally became clear. Inside the sword that had finished its digestion process, there was another world. Someone’s world contained within a blade. While facing that world, I saw yet another.
「I decided to become the wind for you.」
「You said:」
「’Let’s die. Let’s just die here. Don’t even think about facing this harsh world; let’s just die like this.’」
A lowly Ronin. A man who was like the wind.
「I couldn’t do that. You don’t know.」
「What I dream of.」
What the man had dreamed of.
「I became the wind for you.」
「A wind that can sweep away anything.」
Dorothy, the Wizard of Oz. The love of the Ronin who vanished, swept away by a whirlwind. The whirlwind the man conjured to face the world blew away the woman’s life. Her tears, the world she resented, and the trials sent by this harsh world—all of it.
Only now could I see it. Only now could I feel the sword.
Two swords. As I understood them, I finally felt something else. Another blade. Faint and blurry. A mysterious third sword whose identity was unknown….
“Ready.”
But the world would not wait for me. The knight standing in the center raised his hand.
And then.
“Begin—!”
The duel started.
“Hup—”
Immediately after the signal, I held my breath. It was to utilize the Mystery of Combustion contained within the “Lantern.” A struggle to burn my breath and exert power beyond my limits. A desperate attempt to clash weapons with that arrogant swordsman, even for a split second.
But.
“Crude.”
My opponent was a swordsman who defied common sense.
“What—”
I couldn’t see him.
Edan Rhapsody was right in front of my nose. He was there so naturally, as if he had been standing there since before the duel began. I tried to swing my sword in a panic. As if mocking my struggle, Edan Rhapsody moved the wooden stick in his hand. A basic thrust.
A piece of wood. A steel sword made of Winter Steel by a dwarf. Two mismatched weapons met fluidly at a single point. The tip of the wooden stick collided with the blade. At the moment of impact, I nearly lost consciousness and collapsed. A distant shock I had never experienced before. A bizarre weight, as if my soul were being shattered into pieces, crashed down on me.
「Wake up.」
It felt like my heart was breaking. It felt like my arms and legs had already been torn from my torso. I couldn’t tell if I was standing or if I had already collapsed.
「1 second.」
But one thing was certain. I was still holding the sword.
If so.
「From now on, it is one second.」
What I had to do remained unchanged.
「Take this moment as your enlightenment.」
I tasted blood in my mouth. My head spun, and my vision was blurry.
But I must not let go of the sword.
「If you want to survive.」
The fight has only just begun.
