Prologue

“Abel, are you serious?”

“Of course. One hit.”

They stood in the courtyard of the high-class inn, The Golden Wave, where the Crimson Sword stayed regularly as guests in the city of Lune. Ryo and Abel faced each other, the latter ready to thrust with his red, glowing sword and the former frowning.

“You haven’t forgotten the fact that I’m a magician, have you?”

“Nope, and that’s exactly why.”

Abel’s breathing remained steady, measured as he spoke, intent on ending his friend.

“Abel, I made a mistake! Forgive me!”

“No excuses! Prepare yourself, Ryo!”

“Urk... I guess I don’t have a choice. Ice Wall.”

“Take this! Sword Skill: Piercing Peak.”

A lightning-fast step and a quick thrust. Krak.

“Impossible!”

Abel’s newly acquired Sword Skill had pierced Ryo’s ice wall. Piercing Peak was an advanced version of Total Impalement. Even Abel, a swordsman of superior skill, had only recently become proficient at using it.

Watching his ice wall, his pride and joy, shatter, Ryo fell to his knees in shock. Abel, meanwhile, stood proudly after having accomplished the seemingly impossible. Their contrasting tableaux were a direct reflection not only of the outcome of their battle but their difference of spirit.

“I never imagined a sword could actually pierce it...” Ryo said, slapping the ground.

“Ahhh, sure is nice to see the fruits of your labor, huh?” Abel said, reveling in his success at mastering the new variation of Total Impalement, which hadn’t been able to even scratch his friend’s ice wall.

Simply put, he had summoned Ryo to test the power of his new technique. After hitting the ground several times, Ryo lifted his head and stood, determination stamped all over his face.

“Abel, do it again. Exactly as you just did.”

“Huh? No way. You know that executing Sword Skills back-to-back will only tire me out.”

“No excuses! Now, experience the terror that is an ice wall! Laminated 10-Layer Ice Wall.”

The moment Ryo chanted, an ice wall appeared—except this was a special version, which was gradually building up, thickening layer by layer until—until it attacked Abel!

“Hey, you jackass.” Abel leaped to the side. “Stop! Like I can pierce this monstrosity!”

In the end, he treated Ryo to dinner at the Golden Wave. All’s well that ends well.

“I’m throwing in the towel. I can’t even move anymore...”

Inevitably, Ryo booked a room at the Golden Wave and stayed the night there. What else had he expected after eating enough food to feed four people...?

◆

After the mayhem in the royal capital, Ryo returned to his orderly life in Lune. Occasionally, Abel used him as a test subject for his new skills, but even that didn’t do much to disrupt said orderly life. In the mornings, he dedicated himself to alchemy and magic. In the afternoons, he sparred with Sera in the knights’ training ground. And in the evenings, he would eat dinner, take a bath, then spend more time on alchemy and magic until bedtime...

Sometimes, Sera would show up unannounced in the mornings and read books in his living room. On those days, they would eat lunch together at one of their usual haunts, like The Fill-Up Station, then head to the training ground afterward. That was how his days went.

He had learned a lot from Kenneth, the genius alchemist, during his time in the capital. After he had returned to Lune, Ryo had thrown himself into the study of alchemy. And the results...

“Heh heh heh. It’s finally mine!”

He didn’t even realize how sinister his cackle sounded.

“What is it, Ryo?” Sera stared quizzically at him.

“Sera, come outside with me and take a look, please,” he said.

So out they went.

“Afterimage 8.”

When he chanted the spell, eight Ryo look-alikes appeared roughly thirty meters away.

“Wow! There are eight of you!”

“I tried to project myself into the air using water vapor and ice particles—and it worked! So that’s not the problem...”

An image appeared in his mind.

“Floating Magic Circle.”

Eight magic circles formed around him, perpendicular to the ground and facing the afterimages. Then he fired an Icicle Lance from each circle toward each afterimage.

“Oooh!” Sera, having never seen such a thing before, was amazed by the fantastical sight.

Ryo looked pleased with the fruits of his labor.

“What a lovely bit of magic, Ryo!”

“Isn’t it? Wait...? Did you say ‘magic’? But...it’s supposed to be alchemy...”

“Alchemy? Goodness, is it really? Hmmm, a technique not in my repertoire, then. Nevertheless, quite wonderful!” she said, beaming.

Now he himself wasn’t sure whether what he’d just done was magic or alchemy... Either way, Sera smiled and complimented him for it. That was just the way Ryo was.

On Phi, general alchemy was the study of magic phenomena produced through magic formulas and magic circles. Alchemists engraved both methods into their tools, but...apparently, Ryo hadn’t done that. It would be some time before he realized this.

Incidentally, he had finally succeeded in creating a magic circle capable of firing a single Icicle Lance... He’d been generating them without the circles for some time now, so there was no increase in his fighting power at all. Not even a little bit. But that was just fine with him. Being cool—or wonderful, in Sera’s eyes—was worth a lot more!

That evening, Ryo headed to the adventurers’ guild for the first time in a while. About a month had passed since his last trip, which had been on the day he and Abel returned to Lune. They’d dropped in together, made their report, and that was it.

To his sadness, he didn’t pass the crepe stand on the way there. The owner had pulled up stakes before his return to Lune.

After Nina poured their tea and left, Hugh spoke: “There’s only one reason I asked ya to come, Ryo.” More quietly, he continued, “I sold the last o’ the magic stones.”

He smiled a strange, unnerving smile. Even Ryo, accustomed to Hugh’s quirks, felt unsettled.

“Took a while b’cause we sold ’em all hush-hush since ya boys wanted to keep yer involvement a secret.” Hugh handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s the final amount we’ll be transferrin’ to yer account.” The sum written on it was...

“E-Eleven digits...?”

...well over ten billion.

“Yup. ’Course, that’s after deductin’ taxes ’n’ fees. Goes without sayin’ that it don’t include Abel’s share either. Pretty hefty, eh?”

Hugh sat back in his chair, looking utterly and unrepentantly smug.

“I didn’t expect this much... I could live like a king on this for a year!” Ryo joked.

“Damn, boy, how much ya plannin’ to spend?” Hugh quipped back.

“Well...as long as I don’t build a ship, this should last me a long time.”

“What’s this ’bout a ship?”

“You see, I saw a magnificent one in Whitnash and...”

“Ahhh. Hate to break it to ya, but yer gonna need another digit for that,” Hugh said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“Nooo...”

“I know which ship yer talkin’ ’bout. The Rain Shooter, right? It cost three hundred ’n’ seventy billion florins to make.”

“That’s...expensive.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

They both sighed in unison then. Ships like that weren’t built by regular folks like them.

Since Ryo had come all the way here and now had even more money to spare, he decided to treat himself by, as you may have guessed, eating at the guild dining hall. The rush hour had passed, and there were a fair few people there at dinnertime. While he was looking for a place to sit, someone spotted him from afar and waved at him. It was Amon from Room 10. Of course, Nils and Eto were also at the same table.

“It’s so crowded tonight, isn’t it?” he remarked, taking a seat.

“Rare to see you at the guild, Ryo,” Nils replied while eating the daily dinner special.

“In a way, an adventurer who barely shows his face at the adventurers’ guild is pretty amazing too,” Eto said with a smile. He was eating grilled chicken skewers for his meal.

“Well, I had an appointment, so...”

Ryo ordered the daily special.

“You are always holed up at home working on your alchemy, Ryo.”

Amon had ordered pizza, which was apparently a new item on the menu.

“Is that pizza?”

Ryo did a double take. Because right in front of Amon was most definitely pizza... Margherita-style at that.

“I did. I thought I’d try it since they just added it, and it’s delicious. It’s evidently very popular in the Empire, and it has finally attracted interest here in Lune too.”

Amon cut out an eighth of the pizza and gave the slice to Ryo. Grateful, he took a bite. It was most definitely Margherita pizza! What’s more...

“Fantastic!” Ryo exclaimed.

“Right?! I think it will be a hit with everyone in the city.” Amon nodded in eager agreement.

“See, Ryo, we’re gonna be away for a few days on a job.”

That was why they’d decided to eat dinner in the guild’s cafeteria, known for being both tasty and cheap. Of course, that made Ryo wonder what they usually did for meals...

“We usually cook for ourselves,” Eto said with a knowing grin.

Ryo realized that cooking their own meals might be the most economical since they rented a house together.

“We’re heading to the village of Kona, about a day away from here,” Amon explained.

“Kona...” Ryo couldn’t help but react. Just hearing it brought to mind Hawaii’s Kona coffee.

When he’d been on Earth, he hadn’t had any hobbies, but he’d loved coffee and drank different types depending on the day and his mood. Because of this, he’d become picky about his coffee without even realizing it, and Hawaiian Kona had been one of his three favorite beans.

Ryo’s father had installed an espresso machine made by a company with a name similar to the adventurer named Delong. However, he might have been influenced by his son’s love of coffee. And that machine had made incredibly delicious coffee...all by itself! The wonders of automation!

“Yes. It’s a village that grows the beans used for a drink called coffee.”

“Kona coffee!” Ryo gasped, his reaction to this additional information even more emphatic.

A devilish look passed on Nils’s face. “Ryo, weird bugs have infested the coffee trees recently, and strange things have been happening in the village. Since the job was open to D- and E-ranks, we accepted it, but...”

The swordsman and leader of the trio paused there on purpose.

“But?” Ryo prompted, taking the bait.

“The village sent the request not just to Lune but Kailadi too, and one of their D-rank parties accepted too...”

“Then doesn’t that mean the guilds will ask the village to withdraw one of the petitions?” Ryo responded, remembering the regulations for commissions.

“Normally, yeah, but they negotiated that they’d pay both parties properly because they wanted the problem taken care of as quickly and effectively as possible. Both guilds made an exception for Kona, since it’s become famous for its coffee.”

“Wow. That is some incredible political power,” Ryo said, astounded.

He’d assumed the village was quaint and idyllic, but perhaps he’d been wrong. After all, they had successfully convinced not one but two adventurers’ guilds to accept their terms.

“But thanks to that, this has suddenly turned into a standoff between the guilds...” Nils lamented.

“It wasn’t like that at all when we accepted the request. Hard to believe things changed so quickly in only a day...” Eto added, a troubled look on his face.

“Long story short: This is a fight we can’t afford to lose, ya know?”

“I completely understand! Life sometimes turns out that way, doesn’t it?” Ryo said sympathetically. There were some battles that one just couldn’t afford to lose.

“Apparently, the coffee you can drink there is particularly good.” With that bit of information, Nils doubled down for good measure.

“I bet it is!”

Ryo looked happy as he imagined the taste, the smell, the very sight of that coffee.

“So what do you say, Ryo?” Nils asked, driving it home. “Wanna tag along too?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

He didn’t know that at that moment, Nils, Eto, and Amon all clenched their hands into triumphant fists under the table. The trio knew from experience that most jobs went much more smoothly with Ryo accompanying them.

And this time, for whatever reason, it had turned into a competition with another guild. Failure was not an option. The party members of Room 10 breathed a sigh of relief, having succeeded in gaining an unexpected and powerful pinch hitter.

To the Village of Kona

“Glory, glory, hallelujah! Kona is going to fall straight into our hands! ♪”

“Why are you singing what sounds like an invader’s march?” Nils said.

“You know, Nils, lately you’ve been sounding more and more like Abel...”

“Really?! Aw, shucks, that’s gonna go straight to my head!” Nils replied in delight—especially when he heard the word “Abel.”

As they walked together, Eto and Amon chuckled while listening to their conversation. They were on the way to the village of Kona from the city of Lune, having left at dawn to arrive before dusk.

“Setting aside the business of insects we’ve never seen before...I’m curious about the strange phenomenon,” Amon said to the group at large.

“I know, right?” Eto cocked his head. “There was no mention of monsters or anything, just some odd mystery. I wonder what we’ll find.”

“Doesn’t matter what it is. I’ll slice and dice it!” Nils shouted, a typical hotheaded muscle-brain. He was the party’s leader.

With a covert glance at him, Ryo realized that a party leader didn’t need intellect—they just needed the ability to rally their followers.

“Ryo, I know you were thinking something seriously rude just now.”

Nils’s uncanny intuition made Ryo’s brain short-circuit. “Wh-What... Whatever could you be referring to?” he said stiffly.

Nils’s sharp gaze didn’t waver. He clearly wasn’t about to let Ryo out of this pickle without a real answer.

“I was simply impressed by how well suited you are to leadership, Nils,” Ryo declared boldly. It wasn’t a lie, at least.

“O-Oh, yeah? In that case, I guess I’ll drop it.”

Eto and Amon thought Nils was a bit of a soft touch when they saw how apologetic he seemed.

“Nils, Ryo was definitely...”

“...thinking something mean.”

The two whispered to each other, their voices so low that Nils and Ryo didn’t hear them.

And so, they arrived at the village at two in the afternoon, earlier than they’d planned. The village itself was fairly large, its roads lined with rows of houses. Farther back, they could see a vast coffee plantation.

“I’d heard about it but didn’t expect this scale...” Nils mumbled.

“The population is over five thousand, so...it’s basically a town, huh?” Eto murmured.

“I wonder why it’s still called a village,” Amon said.

“Because this place is under the direct control of the royal family.”

The three of them turned around in surprise.

Ryo wasn’t surprised because he’d known someone was approaching them, but he was surprised to learn that bit of information.

Does His Royal Majesty like coffee too?

The person who’d approached was a mature man in his mid-forties. He was tall with an elegant gait, deeply tanned skin, black eyes, and chestnut-colored hair. Perhaps the reason Ryo assumed he wasn’t a farmer was his clothes: His shirt, although thin, was obviously very well-made, coupled with his cropped pants and sandals.

“Ah, excuse me. I’m the magistrate here in Kona, dispatched by the royal family. My name is Goro Ganda. You can call me Goro.”

Goro? That sounds like a Japanese name, but...his face looks Latin? I mean, his features are so chiseled.

“Hello, we’re the adventurer party, Room 10, from the city of Lune. I’m Nils, and this is Eto, Amon, and Ryo. We accepted the commission this village posted.”

Eto took the relevant form from his bag and handed it over to Goro, who read it over.

“Thank you. Everything looks to be in order. Follow me to my office. I’ll explain everything to you there. It also doubles as a residence, so you can stay there while you’re in Kona.”

Goro started walking, leading the way.

“I’m sure you’re already aware, but we also submitted this request to Kailadi’s adventurers’ guild. A party from there is scheduled to arrive in the evening, which is why I’ll explain everything once they’re here too. Apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Not a problem at all. We understand,” Nils replied politely. He knew how to deal with clients like Goro.

Even a meathead like him is just fine with the interpersonal stuff, hm?

For some reason, Ryo nodded condescendingly. How very rude of him.

“About your lodgings... Considering the nature of this village, bureaucrats and aristocrats often visit from the capital, so you can expect the accommodations to reflect that.”

“Are you sure it’s all right for adventurers like us to stay there?” Nils sounded a little anxious now.

“Of course. As the magistrate, I have sole discretion over such matters. Besides, don’t you think it would be more of a waste not to use the residence?” Goro was smiling a bit.

Ryo had assumed that officials like Goro would act arrogantly toward adventurers and commoners alike, so he took a liking to Goro, who didn’t behave like that at all. Of course, that bossy image was just a product of his imagination, as he’d never actually met a local magistrate until now.

The group arrived at the magistrate’s residence and entered the conference room next to his office. A fairly large round table sat within; he used this room to hold meetings and receive reports from each department.

“Please, take a seat over there.”

Goro sat in the center seat while the other four sat to his right. The empty chairs on the left must have been for the party coming from Kailadi. As soon as they were seated, a staff member brought drinks—Kona coffee, of course.

“Since you made the journey out here to Kona, you must try our coffee. We’ll talk after,” Goro said with a smile.

The smell of coffee permeated every corner of the room. Goro, who’d been served a cup along with the others, brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. The other four followed suit, picking up their cups and sniffing the aroma before taking small sips.

This is different from Earth’s Hawaiian Kona. Of course it is. But...it’s still delicious. Clearly, they threw out any bad beans before roasting, resulting in an almost perfect flavor. Ahhh... These people take coffee very seriously, don’t they... They didn’t use the drip method either. I think this is...press? What was it called? French press? This was what we drank when Mom and Dad were both alive...

Ryo drank his coffee while reminiscing over fond memories.

Goro watched him with keen interest. Compared to the other three, who drank their coffee gingerly, Ryo gave off the air of someone who knew what good coffee was. No wonder Ryo had drawn his eye.

However, he didn’t say anything. Goro wasn’t so uncouth. He knew that food, drink, and the tastes and aromas they held could bring back memories of the past. And some of those memories were ones best not to intrude upon, so he wouldn’t ask any tactless questions. Goro Ganda was an extremely competent man.

They talked for an hour about all sorts of things, then Goro received word that the adventurers from Kailadi had arrived.

“Please wait here while I see to them.”

The four spoke to each other in soft whispers after he left the room.

“He seems like a decent enough sort,” Eto said.

“Yes, indeed he does,” Amon agreed.

“I hope we can say the same about these other adventurers,” Nils said, worried.

“This village is under the direct jurisdiction of the royal family, right? It makes sense, then, that they submitted their requests to not one but two separate adventurers’ guilds.”

“Oh, damn...” Nils couldn’t think of anything else to say in response to Ryo’s comment.

“Nils... You forgot to tell Ryo, didn’t you?” Eto asked with a rueful smile.

“You’re so mean...” Ryo slumped against the round table.

Soon enough, Goro returned with the adventurers from Kailadi.

“This is Dragon’s Jaw, the party from Kailadi. And these are the members of Room 10 from Lune.”

While Room 10 consisted of four men, Dragon’s Jaw was made up of three men and two women. Everyone introduced themselves politely after the others sat down too. And like clockwork, another round of coffee was served. To Room 10 as well.

Once more, Ryo savored the aroma and taste. His three friends looked like they’d grown more used to the beverage now... Or at least they desperately tried to make it seem that way.

Not a single person from Dragon’s Jaw touched their cups. Goro noticed that too.

“Is our Kona coffee not to your liking?” His tone was calm, neither intimidating nor arrogant.

“Nah, the coffee ain’t the problem,” said the swordsman—likely their leader. “We just don’t wanna eat or drink with them.”

Ryo almost spat his coffee out, but that would have been a waste of perfectly good coffee, so he managed to control himself. Besides, he was more worried about Nils flying off the handle, but when he looked next to him, he saw that his friend remained composed.

Anybody who couldn’t control their emotions in front of a client was third-rate scum. Abel had, in fact, drilled this lesson thoroughly into Nils. Ryo didn’t know that, hence his surprise. Eto and Amon, however, nodded slightly in approval. Nils was definitely growing up.

Eto was the only one who noticed Goro’s eyes narrowing just the tiniest bit when the Dragon’s Jaw leader spoke. He sighed internally.

How dumb do you have to be to make the client uncomfortable right from the start? This party may turn out to be a real thorn in everyone’s side.

“I see. Then let’s get right into it. I’ll explain the details of this assignment. You may ask me any questions at the end,” Goro said. “There’s an insect outbreak of the likes we’ve never seen before destroying our coffee trees. Currently, five percent of our crop has been infested. As far as particulars on the creatures go... Well, that’s difficult. We consulted a specialist in the royal capital some time ago, but they couldn’t identify the species. At the moment, we must search for them one by one with our eyes, then pick them and crush them by hand. If you can think of better methods, please let me know. That’s the first issue. The other has to do with people disappearing from the village.”

At that point, Goro spread out a map on top of the round table.

“This is a map of the village. Those who disappeared were often last seen near the entrance to the eastern forest. However, it stretches far and wide, and many monsters live there, none of which have ever come close to the village until now. Therefore, we’re unsure if they’re the cause of the disappearances. If they are, we’ll ask you to hunt them down. If not, we would like you to investigate. These are our requests.”

He paused, took a breath, then continued.

“If you have any questions, please ask away.”

The swordsman-cum-leader of Dragon’s Jaw raised his hand.

“I don’t think we can work with them. So the most efficient thing to do here would be for us to look into the disappearances while they deal with the bugs.”

I guess people like this do exist, hm? Openly hostile from the get-go... I’d really like to know what the higher-ups at Kailadi’s adventurers’ guild were thinking when they sent them.

Ryo was careful not to let his face betray his thoughts.

“We don’t mind how you choose to proceed,” Ryo said. “All I ask is that you don’t cause any trouble for the village or its residents. Let me remind you that this place is under the direct control of the royal family. You may think of the villagers as His Majesty’s immediate vassals.”

The weight he placed on that last sentence didn’t go unnoticed. It was also the first time since he met everyone here that his voice took on a stern tone. Even the members of Dragon’s Jaw stiffened in reaction, their expressions tense.

“Room 10, are you amenable to the proposed division of labor?” Goro asked Nils in his original mild-mannered way.

Nils stole a glance at Eto, who gave him a small nod. Then he responded, “Yeah, we are.”

His answer surprised the other party. They had assumed he would object and argue. The insect problem was obviously an impossible task unsuited for D-rank adventurers. Nevertheless, Room 10 accepted the unfair terms.

Once Goro finished his explanation, he offered more Kona coffee. Of course, the four members of Room 10 accepted. Since Dragon’s Jaw refused to drink it again, he summoned his secretary to show them to their lodgings and answer any questions they had.

After they left, the five people remaining in the conference room nursed their coffees. Originally, Goro had planned to give both parties a tour simultaneously. In terms of efficiency, that was the best option. It was the same reason he’d waited until both parties were present to debrief them.

Unfortunately, the two parties might as well have been oil and water, mostly due to Dragon’s Jaw’s one-sided hostility... That explained why they left when he offered coffee again, and Room 10 stayed.

A pretty smart way to separate us so that tensions don’t explode, Ryo smugly thought while drinking his Kona coffee.

“Moving forward, I’ll make sure to work with your party and theirs separately,” Goro said with a wry smile, one hand holding his cup.

The other four responded with awkward smiles of their own. Apologizing didn’t feel right in this situation...especially when the other guys were the ones being jerks! But insulting them behind their backs didn’t feel right either... So all they could do was smile awkwardly.

After about fifteen minutes, they finished drinking their coffees and Goro showed them to their lodgings and the dining room while elaborating on the current circumstances.

“I can’t deny that the disappearances are worrying the villagers. However, for better or worse, the size of our population has prevented things from escalating. I doubt that would be the case if this were an ordinary village with few residents.” He paused there, his expression turning grave. “I think you’ll face myriad challenges on this commission, but I sincerely hope you can help us.”

Then he bowed his head deeply to the four of them.

◆

“Okay, guys, it’s four o’clock and the sun’s setting in less than three hours. What do you wanna do?” Nils asked, looking at his beloved pocket watch.

“Why don’t we talk to the people working at the plantation? We may learn something.”

The other three agreed with Eto’s suggestion.

The coffee plantation was behind the main part of the village. When they arrived, they saw a vast field of coffee stretching into the distance. As much as he loved to drink it, even Ryo had never seen a coffee tree before. The trees rose as tall as people, aligned in endless rows at two-meter intervals. It was a dazzling, overwhelming sight.

“Incredible...” Ryo murmured.

The farmers were harvesting only the ripe beans from the trees. Far off in the distance, Ryo spotted an air magician using an Air Slash-like spell to trim the weeds between the trees... A scene straight out of a fantasy setting!

“All right, guys, let’s do this.”

The other three weren’t nearly as impressed as Ryo. That disappointed him just a little bit.

After they’d talked to several farmers, the harvesters agreed to show them the insects plaguing their crops. But first, they had to actually find the pests. The farmer showing them around, a man named Takka who’d just come of age, studied the trees where the infestation had begun. Three minutes later, he called them over.

“Here’s one.”

He pointed at a pitch-black insect about half a centimeter long. Even if it stretched its legs out wide, it would still only be about the size of a pinky finger nail.

“That’s a lot of legs,” Ryo muttered.

“Ryo?” Nils said, overhearing.

“It has ten legs.”

“Wow, it really does,” Amon murmured, peering at it.

“Now that I think about it, don’t most bugs have six legs?” Nils considered for a moment. “Wait, spiders have eight.”

“Indeed, they do. I learned that spiders are more closely related to horseshoe crabs and scorpions.”

“Scorpions are the ones with venomous tails and enormous claws that live in the desert, right? A long, long time ago, my grandfather showed me some alcohol infused with a scorpion. I had no idea spiders were relatives...” Amon remarked while remembering the past. He trembled, apparently terrified of the memory of the creature.

Wow, soaking highly poisonous substances in alcohol is a custom everywhere, huh?

That was what Ryo was thinking.

While they discussed the topic, Eto stared silently at the bug.

“Eto?” Ryo called out.

“Huh? Oh, Ryo. I was just thinking it’s a bit too small to examine properly... If only it were a bit bigger...” Squinting, Eto drew closer to the insect.

“Well, today’s your lucky day, because I have the perfect water magic spell.”

Ice Lens.

As he chanted the words in his mind, a palm-sized convex lens made of ice formed. In the beginning, it had taken him more than fifteen minutes to create one. Now, he could do it almost instantly. Ryo reveled in the fruits of his labor.

“Look through this,” Ryo said. “It’ll look larger.”

“Wow...” Eto said, then he began his scrutiny of the insect.

Five minutes later, he lifted his head. After returning the ice lens to Ryo, he nodded and spoke.

“I think I know what this is.”

◆

“I think it’s likely that they’re cacodemonic insects,” Eto said firmly back in Goro’s office.

“Cacodemonic insects? This is the first I’m hearing of them. Would you elaborate?” Despite his confusion, Goro pressed him for more details.

“They’re one species of the cacodemons’ minions. When a cacodemon is resurrected, it sends these out to gather power on its behalf.”

“Cacodemons...” Goro said the word out loud in fear.

Cacodemons!

Meanwhile, Ryo said the word in his mind in delight.

We’ve had devils and demon kings and...demon princes, was it? But weak, every last one of them... Then does this mean cacodemons are the real deal in Phi?!

Both demon kings and cacodemons were staples in isekai reincarnation stories! However, one was always strong and the other weak. Or, more often than not, only one type showed up. And now that the cacodemon had finally made its debut, Ryo’s excitement skyrocketed.

“Having said that,” Eto continued, “I only learned about them during my studies in the Temple, so I recommend you seek out a specialist on the subject.”

“The one we requested before specialized in insects, so it never would have even occurred to me that we needed someone whose field of study was cacodemons...”

Goro exhaled deeply. Then he suddenly lifted his head like he’d had a sudden flash of insight.

“Eto, the folklorists at the central temple would know quite a lot about cacodemonic lore, and thereby these insects, right?”

“Yes, they’re very knowledgeable on the subject.”

“Excellent. One of them, whom I’m acquainted with, is currently on a sojourn in Kailadi, so I’ll send out a request for aid right away. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

Decided, Goro quickly penned a letter and handed it to his secretary to be posted immediately to the city by bird courier.

“Now we simply wait.”

Then he exhaled again.

“Frankly, I didn’t expect the insect problem to be solved so quickly. I’m glad your party has a priest,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing, really...” Eto replied, a little embarrassed.

“In a pleasant twist of fate, the earlier division of labor turned out to be a very good thing, considering Dragon’s Jaw has no cleric.”

The other party consisted of a male swordsman, a female scout, a male axman, a male magician, and a female archer. No priests or priestesses among them.

“Well, there just aren’t very many adventurers who are clerics,” Eto answered with a nod.

◆

The four of them accomplished their assigned task just under two hours after their arrival. From that information alone, you could say they produced excellent results. Of course, the folklorist would look into the situation tomorrow and inspect the insects themselves, but for today, their work was done.

“First things first: bath time!” Nils gleefully commanded.

“Hooray!” the others cheered.

Since this residence frequently housed nobles and government officials, it was naturally furnished with a large bath. Apparently, it was also open to the villagers on weekends.

It’s the best way to maintain facilities. Because if things aren’t used, you’ll find them broken down when you need them.

Ryo’s opinion of Goro rose even more.

After the bath, it was dinnertime. Goro had told them the head chef also prepared meals for him and his high-ranking guests, so the four had high expectations. Would he meet them, though? Let’s find out...

“This is freaking amazing!”

“Delicious!”

“I couldn’t agree more!”

“Both the meat and the fish are superb!”

The dinner satisfied Nils, Eto, Amon, and Ryo.

Watching from afar, the head chef nodded happily.

To no one’s surprise, the four adventurers devoured every last bite despite the fairly large portions. They practically licked their plates clean. Eto, whose appetite was usually small, also ate it all up. Their hunger might have had something to do with the long walk from Lune, plus the fact that they’d only had dried meat for lunch.

And, of course, they finished off the meal with Kona coffee.

As the four were enjoying their after-dinner coffee, the five other adventurers of Dragon’s Jaw, the party from Kailadi, entered.

“Tsk.” The swordsman clicked his tongue loudly.

Of course, the four members of Room 10 heard it. Ryo was worried about Nils. During Goro’s explanation that afternoon, Nils had kept a lid on his temper because the client was right there, but that wasn’t the case now. With that thought in mind, Ryo looked at Nils.

However, Nils continued drinking his coffee without a care in the world. The other two had the same nonchalant attitude.

They’re so mature!

Ryo was impressed by how much the three of them had grown.

This lasted all of ten seconds.

“Hey, Ryo, didja know?” Nils said. “The smaller the dog, the louder its bark. So, in the same vein, the more useless the adventurer, the louder they click their tongue.”

No, I didn’t! And you definitely just made up that last bit!

“Say that to my face, asshole!”

Naturally, the five members of Dragon’s Jaw couldn’t stay quiet after hearing something like that. Instantly, they grew enraged. The two women looked just as ready for a fight as the men... Maybe it was a case of them turning into the people they surrounded themselves with...

Ryo shook his head slightly.

“All right, gents, I say we head back to our room. Chef, thanks for the meal,” Nils said politely.

“Thanks for the meal,” the other three echoed.

Then the members of Room 10 stood up from their seats, completely ignoring the other party as they left the dining room.

“Hey! Get your asses back here!”

The Dragon’s Jaw swordsman tried to grab Ryo, who brought up the rear, by the shoulder.

At that moment...

Clatter. Crash.

The swordsman tumbled noisily to the ground. No one had noticed that the floor beneath his feet had frozen over. On his way down, he knocked over a nearby chair and a vase on the table, leaving the area in a shambles.

“Oh, no, are you all right? You should really watch where you’re going or you might hurt yourself,” Ryo said loftily, walking right out of the dining hall.

Only the five furious adventurers with no outlet for their anger and the chefs, grimacing from the kitchen, remained. Ever the professionals, though, the chefs did their jobs and served them dinner. But the butler later testified to Goro that the adventurers from Kailadi looked displeased from start to finish.

The next morning, Room 10 leisurely got ready for the day. When the butler told them that Dragon’s Jaw had already left for the eastern forest after an early breakfast, the four glanced knowingly at each other and nodded.

Now that they wouldn’t have to deal with the annoying quintet for a while, they nursed their sumptuous meals. They even drank coffee before heading to the magistrate’s office. Last night, Goro had requested that they see him by ten o’clock. They were led to the same conference room, where they found him with another person.

He’s not wearing a cleric’s white robe but formal holy attire... I’ve never seen that crest before, though. So this is a folklorist... Ryo thought.

As far as he could tell, the man looked roughly the same age as Goro. He was as tall as the average man and built slim. Not lean like Ryo, but genuinely skinny. If Ryo had to say, in terms of build, he was closest to Eto.

“Good, you’re all here. Everyone, this is Viscount Larshata Deveaux, the folklorist from the central temple. Larshata, these are the adventurers from Lune I was telling you about, Room 10,” Goro said.

Eto lifted his eyebrows. “Viscount?”

“Hello, and nice to meet you. I understand your confusion. It is awfully strange to hold a title while being part of the Temple, hm? Let’s just say my circumstances are...tricky, and leave it at that. Now, why don’t we discuss these insects?”

“Yes, of course. Here you are.”

Ryo placed the ice box he’d been carrying under his arm on the table. Inside was the black bug they had caught yesterday.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Truth be told, I’m more intrigued by this box— Ah, but the insect itself is fascinating too... Are you a water magician, then?”

“Yes, I am.” Ryo nodded.

“Looking at this box, I’m reminded of the tale of ‘The Ice Goddess and the Frost Sovereign.’ Over ten thousand years ago, or so the story goes...”

“Larshata, I hate to interrupt, but the insect first, please,” Goro interjected, redirecting his friend’s attention to what had brought him here.

“Ah, forgive me. Right you are, right you are,” Larshata replied with a chuckle.

Then he began to inspect the insect, muttering to himself the whole time.

After three minutes of this, he turned to Ryo.

“Would you be so kind as to open this box?”

“Of course.”

Ryo took off the lid. Larshata reached inside, grabbed the insect, then balled up his fist, crushing it in the palm of his hand. He opened his hand, spreading his fingers.

“Hm... Red bodily fluid, just like legend states...”

A red liquid reminiscent of blood leaked from the insect remains smeared across Larshata’s palm.

“Which means...” Goro prodded.

“A cacodemonic insect indeed,” Larshata responded with a nod. “It must be the ‘cacodemon sealed away in the south’ which has regenerated and is gathering the strength to rise up once more,” he continued thoughtfully.

“Understood. The first thing I’ll do is send a report to the capital. I’ll be writing your name and Eto’s as the individuals who verified the identity of this creature. I trust that is fine with you both?”

“Do what you need to do.”

“Of course, I don’t mind at all.”

“Eto, are cacodemons strong?” Ryo asked from next to him, his voice low.

“Um...” Eto blinked, surprised by the question. “I...think so. But, truthfully, no one really knows. It’s been centuries since one has been reported...” Eto then glanced inquiringly at Larshata, the folklorist.

“Spot-on, young man. Eto, was it? It is as he says. The last record chronicling a cacodemon’s defeat was nine hundred and fifty years ago. Of course, that doesn’t exclude the possibility of others being defeated that weren’t recorded. Adults are wont to make such decisions for one reason or another, eh? I suspect that the cacodemon this time is the same as the one from nine hundred and fifty years prior, though.”

“This time?” Ryo asked.

“Yes. According to the legends passed down in the Kingdom, two cacodemons were sealed, one in the south and the other in the east. Many tales about the eastern one have much to say about its terrifying strength. Evidently, the damage it caused not only extended to the eastern part of the Kingdom, but also to the area that is now the Handalieu Federation.”

Larshata propped his chin on his hand and thought for a bit.

“In light of this, is there a possibility the nation will deploy additional forces this time?”

“You mean like knights?” Nils asked.

“Maybe the Bureau?” Eto joined.

“High-ranking adventurers, perhaps?” Amon asked.

“Or the Hero?” Ryo wondered.

The three jolted, turning to stare at Ryo in shock. Nils recovered first and broke the silence.

“Ryo, the current Hero’s in the Western Provinces. There’s no way he’s here,” he said, extremely confident.

“Heh heh heh. Nils, Nils, Nils. Obviously, your information is outdated. Allow me to inform you that Roman the Hero and his party were, in fact, in the royal capital just recently,” Ryo said with the certainty of someone who’d just fought side by side with them.

“Are you serious?!” Nils’s eyes widened.

“Oh, yes,” Larshata said. “I did hear about the Hero assisting in the defense of the central temple’s underground levels during the mayhem in the capital. I must say, you’re well-informed, Ryo.”

“Okay, but...a decent amount of time has passed since then, so I seriously doubt he’s still here.”

“Do you really think so? Well, that’s a pity.” Ryo didn’t mean a word of what he said.

Ryo wholeheartedly believed Roman the Hero was a good guy. The young man possessed a spirit perfectly suited to that of a hero. After the chaos in the capital, he had challenged Ryo to spar with him countless times. Ryo had quite literally lost count of the number of times and eventually had to hide his annoyance at Roman’s persistence. Even though he had no problem sparring with Sera, he thought dueling the Hero would be nothing but a pain in the neck. Ryo was not a good guy.

While the others chatted, Goro returned to the conference room.

“I’ve arranged for brief reports to be sent to the royal capital, Lune, and Kailadi.”

That fast?

Ryo was surprised. Not even half an hour had passed, so the man must have been something else to have gotten the task done so quickly.

“I drafted most of my message yesterday after Eto suggested it was a cacodemonic insect. Once Larshata confirmed his suspicion today, I jotted down the additional facts, duplicated the report using Transcribe, then sent it to all the relevant parties,” Goro explained casually, smiling.

“Ever the paragon of work. Don’t you get tired of putting a layabout like me to shame, Goro? Do you still have no plans to return to the capital?” Larshata asked his friend.

“Not as of now, no. I love this village too much. But more than that, I love Kona coffee.”

His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Just then, the door opened, and one of his staff entered to serve them Kona coffee. With their meeting and his reporting done, it was now time to drink the liquid ambrosia. And what a blissful time it was...

◆

“Right then, I’m heading back to Kailadi for now,” Larshata said when their blissful time ended.

“Gah, don’t tell me...” Goro trailed off, already suspecting his friend’s answer.

“You would be right. I tossed my work aside to come here.” Then Larshata burst out laughing.

“Well, I suppose I should apologize for that.”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks to you, I saw a cacodemonic insect with my very own eyes. I would like to see how our forces handle the cacodemon itself, soooo...I’ll make sure to finish my work and return as quickly as possible. Sit, sit, no need to see me off.”

And with that, he left the conference room.

“Though he calls himself a layabout, that is very much a lie,” Goro prefaced with a small smile. “For some time, he returned to secular life. In other words, he quit his post as a priest to inherit his family’s title. However, his status as a folklorist was such that it was difficult to replace him, so the royal family and Temple granted him special permission to return to his post while remaining a viscount.”

“That’s...unheard of. He must be truly incredible, then...” Eto, as a priest himself, was the most surprised by Goro’s revelation.

“Is he really that amazing?” Nils pressed.

“Yes. Normally, such exemptions are unthinkable. Even saints rarely receive them.”

“Ohhh. Well, when you put it like that, I definitely get it.” Larshata’s talents as a folklorist were even rarer than saints’ talents—to the point that he was allowed to retain his title of nobility and return to his post as a priest, an impossibility in the Central Provinces.

“All right, gentleman, we’ll be tabling the matter of the insects for now. I’ve done my duty of reporting to the royal family, so how we proceed is for them to decide. That leaves us with the problem of the disappearances...”

Goro grimaced.

“And, unfortunately, Dragon’s Jaw, who seems to regard you all in a hostile light.”

He sighed deeply.

“Yes, they do... We’re sorry about that.” Eto bowed his head.

“No, it’s not your fault... It isn’t, yes? You haven’t quarrelled with them before, have you?”

“Nope. I mean, our first time meeting them was here,” Nils said. “It’s not like we’ve even met adventurers from Kai—”

“Nils?” Ryo asked his friend, whose expression looked odd.

“Well, the only time we had anything to do with Kailadi was...the time we took the job for my village. Now I’m wondering if that has something to do with their lousy attitudes?”

“You know, I actually wondered the same thing,” Eto said. “Maybe they were one of the parties that beat a hasty retreat after suffering serious injuries, or the villagers turned them away right out of the gate...”

“Yeah, maybe,” Nils replied.

Meanwhile, Amon and Ryo nodded at the same time at Eto’s suggestion.

Goro had been listening to them silently. Eto gave him a brief rundown of what had happened. To put it simply, the other party’s resentment might have been unjustified.

“I see. It’s possible that Dragon’s Jaw was one of those parties. Whatever the case, the problem doesn’t lie with you all... In truth, it would be best if both parties contributed to the investigation of the disappearances, but it would be troublesome if something happened in the forest... For now, I want you all to stand by. I’ve sent my report to Lune, so we may hear back soon.”

And so, the four members of Room 10 enjoyed a brief, magistrate-approved respite.

Word came to Goro’s office two days later. Both Room 10 and Dragon’s Jaw were summoned to the large conference room. The folklorist Larshata, back already from Kailadi, was sitting beside Goro.

“We received communication from the royal capital. At present, they won’t be sending any official reinforcements. Instead, the government will be requesting aid from the adventurers’ guilds of Lune and Kailadi. In other words, the two cities will be dispatching additional adventurers.”

That meant the ones coming to Kona would be high-ranking adventurers. Amon’s prediction turned out to be correct. He nodded vigorously. Nils looked just a tad frustrated.

However, one person remained entirely unconvinced. Of course, it wasn’t a member of Room 10, but the leader and swordsman of Dragon’s Jaw.

“Like hell they will! This here’s our job. You really think we’ll just let these latecomers snatch it away?! Latecomers from another city, to boot! To hell with that!”

I understand how you feel, but this isn’t something you should say in front of the client.

Even Ryo, with his scant experience with adventuring jobs, knew the man had made a faux pas. You could only imagine what the other three in Room 10 were thinking.

“Dogon, mind your tongue. This is a decision by the royal government, made by someone even higher up the rung than us in the village, your clients. It is, effectively, the royal family’s decision. Do you understand that opposing the royal family means committing the crime of high treason?” Goro said in a low, reproachful tone that the members of Room 10 had never heard before.

Even Dogon seemed daunted by the mention of the words “high treason,” his pallor turning sickly. Still, he felt like he had to say something. Cornered as he was, he decided that things wouldn’t improve at this rate. And in his childish rebuttal lay the problem.

“I bet these scumbags from Lune are lying their asses off about the bugs being cacodemonic insects or whatever! They’re just trying to make themselves look good and take the credit! How can we trust anything they say?!”

The four members of Room 10 collectively gulped. They weren’t annoyed or interested in arguing back. They simply knew that—

“I was the one who identified those creatures as cacodemonic insects,” Larshata interjected. “If you must know, I’m the head folklorist at the central temple.”

“Th-Then you conspired with them to make up that cock-and-bull story!”

That’s absolutely absurd, Swordsman Dogon... Though I suppose it’s only natural for a cornered animal to lash out.

Ryo prayed for him in his mind.

“I am a priest, yes. However, I am also Viscount Larshata Deveaux. Do you understand now? That means I’m a noble. So I advise you to watch the way you speak to me.”

“A noble,” Dogon muttered, shocked. The other four members of Dragon’s Jaw were also speechless. Silence fell over the conference room.

After a while, Magistrate Goro spoke.

“We’ll maintain the status quo until additional aid arrives from Lune and Kailadi. Any further actions depend on who arrives, so I’ll decide then. I request that both parties please remain in the village in the meantime. Since your stay here has been extended, your compensation will be increased accordingly.”

The members of Room 10 internally pumped their fists. The others were none the wiser, of course.

With that, the meeting ended, and as usual, Goro invited them to join him for coffee afterward. As usual, the five members of Dragon’s Jaw declined and left the conference room.

◆

Goro, Larshata, and the four members of Room 10 remained. When the coffee arrived, Larshata spoke first.

“Goro, what is with those Dragon’s Jaw buggers? Naturally, I don’t expect them to be as friendly as the young men in Room 10, but I must say, I’ve never met such horrid adventurers before in my life.”

The four glanced at each other with wry smiles.

“I don’t disagree,” Goro said. “To be perfectly blunt, the reputation of Kailadi’s adventurers’ guilds falls lower and lower by the day... I had my misgivings when I first submitted the request to them, and, unfortunately, these adventurers have proven those doubts well-founded.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“Has Kailadi’s guild always been this bad?” Ryo asked in a thoughtful murmur.

“Well, when we visited, the submaster was a decent enough guy. What was his name again?” Nils trailed off.

“Landenbier,” Eto supplied.

Though they spoke quietly to each other, it was difficult not to be overheard, considering how few people were in the conference room.

“Submaster Landenbier was what one might call Kailadi’s conscience,” Goro interjected with a rueful smile. “But about half a year ago, he was appointed master of Acray’s guild. Ever since then, Kailadi’s adventurers’ guild has been on the decline...” He sighed deeply.

Acray was the largest city in the southern part of the Kingdom and the capital of Marquess Heinlein’s territory. You could say that becoming its guild’s master was quite a promotion. However, organizations that lose talented people often end up in a sad state...

“Well, the situation being what it is, I sought aid from both Kailadi and Lune. While Kailadi is a bit closer to this village, there are other factors to consider, as you learned earlier. That is why I ‘mistakenly’ reached out to Lune in the first place.”

Magistrate Goro was a capable man.

Two days later, time was passing peacefully in the village of Kona. Anytime the villagers found a cacodemonic insect, they exterminated it by peeling it off the tree and crushing it. The four members of Room 10 helped them with the task, sometimes training in between, occasionally drinking coffee, before helping again...

For whatever reason, the five people in Dragon’s Jaw went to the eastern forest every day.

“Hey, are they even trying to do what the client wants?”

“Shhh!” Ryo held his finger to his lips.

“Wh-What the heck, man?”

“Don’t say anything else. You might just trigger an event flag.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a frightening phenomenon where words become reality. For example, if I say Nina is going to reject you...”

“Hey, don’t even finish that thought!” Nils snapped.

“You hate the idea of it, right? Now you understand how important words are. So let’s not be rash with the things we say.”

“I still don’t get it, but...I guess I’ll keep my mouth shut on that front.”

No one would call Ryo’s event flag explanation satisfactory. Nevertheless, he had a bad feeling. If Nils said anything else, something bad would happen... Of course, that was just Ryo being Ryo, making baseless assumptions.

But sometimes, those assumptions become certainties. That afternoon, the first wave of reinforcements arrived from Kailadi. As if they’d been waiting for them, Dragon’s Jaw magically appeared in front of Room 10 to introduce the five arrivals.

Everyone in Room 10 looked displeased. They all felt a sense of foreboding at the situation.

“This here’s the C-rank party Five Binary Stars,” Dogon said. “They’re Kailadi’s most experienced party.”

If they’re veterans at only C-rank, doesn’t that mean they don’t have the talent to move up to B...? Ryo wondered.

The party consisted of five men in their mid-thirties.

They all look like villains.

Ryo continued entertaining his rude thoughts.

“You guys must be D-ranks, huh?” the lancer of the Five Binary Stars said. “That means whatever we say goes, since we outrank you.”

“Is that how it works?” Ryo asked Eto, who was next to him.

“It’s technically not a rule, but it is a custom. When multiple parties accept escort jobs, usually the leader of the higher-ranking party takes charge, right? So, like that.” Eto didn’t bother disguising his irritation, which stood out like a sore thumb given his usually nonchalant nature.

“There you have it.” The lancer’s mouth twisted into a derisive smirk. “We’re feeling reeeal tired from the trip here, so be good boys and rub our feet, eh?”

Both his party members and Dragon’s Jaw burst out laughing. For whatever reason, they’d found that funny.

“Screw you,” Nils muttered through gritted teeth.

“Huuuh? I didn’t catch that. Wanna run it by me again?” the lancer said in a menacing tone.

Ryo stepped in front of Nils. “Um, we understand.”

Nils grabbed his arm. “Ryo, what the hell?!”

Ryo ignored him. “However, I’m not sure about your claims of being C-ranks...”

“What’d you say, you little shit?!”

“Therefore, would you kindly show us your guild cards?”

“Fine. You better rub our feet once you see we’re telling the truth.”

“Of course. If you’re telling the truth.” Ryo nodded magnanimously.

While rummaging for his guild card, the lancer walked toward Ryo—and tripped.

“Gaaah!”

And what a dramatic fall it was. Naturally, on Ryo’s Ice Bahn. At this point, the spell might have been the one he used most often in these situations...

“Oh, no, are you all right?” Ryo called out, feigning concern without approaching.

“God damn it, how the hell did I slip like that?”

The lancer put his weight on his feet in an attempt to stand...and promptly fell again.

“Nggh!”

“G-Goodness gracious! You’re not hurt, are you?” Once more, Ryo pretended to be worried.

After his second tumble, the other three in Room 10 had an inkling that this was Ryo’s doing. When the man fell for the third time, their inkling became certainty. They didn’t know how, but they knew it was him. So they went along with his act.

“Sure you’re okay?” the other three said. Naturally, they leaned into the illusion and looked genuinely concerned. Performance like this demanded deception rather than honesty.

“Shit... What in the hell is going on...”

The lancer couldn’t get up. This ice was much, much more slippery than the ice he was accustomed to... Moreover, it formed instantaneously under his feet. Imagine someone trying to walk on a wooden floor covered in marbles... They will, without a doubt, fall... The lancer found himself in that exact situation—in hell, in other words.

His nine comrades from Kailadi began realizing there was nothing normal about this. They didn’t know exactly what was happening, but they knew something was up. It almost looked like some kind of curse had befallen their friend...

“Hey, Ryo, what are you hoping to get out of this?” Nils whispered to Ryo next to him.

Every time the lancer tried to stand up, he just fell down. Again and again. The other adventurers from Kailadi stayed well away, afraid of touching him with a ten-foot pole.

Nils had no idea what Ryo was planning to do next. Neither did Ryo, naturally. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. So...

“Um, I guess I’ll just leave him like that until Lune’s reinforcements arrive,” Ryo said.

“Are you serious?” Nils muttered. Even he thought that was insane. No one knew when the others would even show up, and there wasn’t even a guarantee it would be today. Imagining the lancer suffering that whole time actually made Nils begin to feel sorry for him.

“Speaking of...” Ryo replied, also whispering.

Nils turned his attention back to Ryo and whatever was about to come from his mouth next.

“I wonder who’s coming from Lune.”

“C’mon, man,” Nils said, sighing. “Is that really what we should be talking about right now?”

But then a funny thing happened...

“I hope it’s the Crimson Sword. Since we may have to defeat a cacodemon, wouldn’t the guild send its strongest asset?”

Amon, the most sensible member of Room 10 despite being its youngest, had taken the proverbial baton from Ryo and started running.

That in itself was something of a shock to Nils.

So even Amon’s been infected by Ryo, huh?

How rude.

But the hits just kept on coming for Nils...

“I’m almost positive the Crimson Sword is in the west on a job,” Eto said, joining the craziness. “Buuut...they may just end up coming here once they get back to Lune. I guess we’ll find out!”

As party leader, Nils couldn’t help but let out the deepest sigh he could muster. Then he thought to himself, Guess I don’t have any choice except to roll with the punches...

And that was exactly what he did.

“Sera of the Wind is another possibility, although she’s a long shot,” he suggested.

“No way,” the other three said without a second thought.

The lancer’s saviors arrived thirty minutes later in the form of two carriages bearing the crest of Lune’s adventurers’ guild. They came to a halt in front of the magistrate’s office building, right next to where the lancer continued to slip on the ground.

A fierce-looking giant of a man stepped out from the first carriage.

“Hugh?” Ryo muttered.

“Guild Master?” Amon said.

A young swordsman stepped down after Hugh.

“Roman...”

The rest of his entourage from the Western Provinces exited the second carriage. Ryo knew them too. Guild Master Hugh McGlass, plus Roman the Hero’s party, numbered eight in total. This group turned out to be the reinforcements from Lune’s guild.

“Well, well, if it ain’t some o’ my favorite lads. ’Preciate ya rollin’ out the welcome wagon,” Hugh said, then looked at the lancer. “Spoke too soon, from the looks o’ things.”

The man had mostly given up on standing up again.

“What’s he doin’?” Hugh asked.

“Trying to get up,” Ryo answered.

“R-Right... Far be it from me to knock a man’s trainin’ methods, eh? Don’t worry ’bout us. Just keep doin’ whatever it was ya were doing ’fore we got here.”

He turned to walk away.

“H-Hold it right there.” Although he’d given up on standing, the expression on the lancer’s face was gloomy. “We’re the C-rank party Five Binary Stars from Kailadi, and we’ll be taking the lead on this job. So butt out.”

From every angle, Hugh McGlass, the huge man with the scary face, looked like a high-ranking adventurer. However, all that slipping and sliding had robbed the lancer of his ability to think calmly.

“Oh ho, that right? So ya gents are the ’venturers from Kailadi, huh? Well, my name is Hugh McGlass ’n’ I’m the master of Lune’s guild. That means I’ll be the one in charge. Rotten luck for you lot, eh?”

“You’re the guild master?”

“McGlass... Wait, Champion McGlass?”

“Whoa. Master McGlass...in the flesh...”

The murmurs rippled across the adventurers from Kailadi.

“He’s famous, you know,” Nils whispered to Ryo.

“That makes sense, considering he is the hero of the Great War,” Ryo whispered back just as softly.

“Let me introduce ya to the current Hero, Roman, ’n’ his party. They just so ’appened to be in Lune ’n’ were generous enough to offer their help. Let’s all get along, eh?” Hugh dropped this second bombshell.

Their brains had already shorted out, so Kailadi’s adventurers couldn’t process any more information, meaning Hugh didn’t get the reaction he hoped for.

“Huh?”

That was all they could manage.

The three others in Room 10 reacted for them instead.

“Wait... Did he just say the Hero? No way.”

“We’re going to fight side by side with the Hero.”

“This will be a very good learning experience for me as a fellow swordsman.”

Nils, Eto, and Amon commented, wearing similar expressions of awe and surprise.

Then Roman, the Hero in question, walked over to the four members of Room 10.

“Ryo, good to see you again. I hope you’ve been well.” He bowed his head in polite greeting.

“Oh, yes, right back at you...” Ryo’s reply was perfunctory, but he bowed his head too.

“I can’t believe you know the Hero, Ryo.” Amon was genuinely surprised.

“This is Ryo we’re talking about, so I can’t say I’m too shocked.” Eto nodded in understanding.

“Honestly, same. At this point, knowing the most unexpected people is business as usual for him.” Nils shook his head in exasperation, not at all surprised.

◆

“Master McGlass, I certainly didn’t expect you to join us yourself. There is no greater support! Not to mention you brought the Hero’s party as well... I’m grateful to you all.”

Magistrate Goro looked truly delighted as he greeted the reinforcements from Lune.

“I bet he’s even happier because of the jerks Kailadi sent,” Ryo muttered.

“What do ya mean by that?” Hugh said, overhearing him. He sucked in a tense breath. “Ryo, ya better not have started somethin’ with the ’venturers from Kailadi.”

“As if! Honestly, Hugh, what kind of person do you think I am?” Ryo shook his head, looking very upset.

Room 10 glanced knowingly at each other in secret.

“All right, all right, I’ll take yer word for it, then,” Hugh said with a nod.

◆

After taking a break and drinking his coffee, Hugh turned to Larshata. “I hear you think there are a few possibilities as to where the cacodemon could be slumberin’?” he asked.

“Yes. I analyzed documents from the past at the central temple and am fairly certain that it lies in the forest to the east of this village. I’ve narrowed it down to three locations.”

“Got it. But...’scuse my frankness, wouldn’t ya want to settle this peacefully as a magistrate?” Hugh seemed to have read Goro’s mind.

“Absolutely. It’s not like I bear any grudge toward it. So long as the insects don’t attach themselves to the trees, I have no problem leaving the creature alone. Don’t wake a sleeping dragon, as the saying goes,” Goro responded with a firm nod.

“Understood. Another thing I’m curious ’bout, then. What’s yer progress on the villagers’ disappearances?”

“Dragon’s Jaw has been working on that. However, they haven’t made any new discoveries.”

Hugh rested his chin on his hand and lapsed into deep thought.

Twelve people are missin’. In the second half o’ the report, he wrote that villagers all came together for a search but couldn’t find anyone, not even their bodies. This is a forest inhabited by monsters, ain’t it? So what does it mean that they couldn’t even find their remains? I’d prefer not to imagine it, but if they were attacked by monsters, shouldn’t their remains be lyin’ ’round? Maybe they were taken by someone or somethin’ else.

Several possibilities floated through his head after he read the message from the magistrate. Hugh McGlass may have looked like a giant, intimidating meathead, but his brain functioned just fine. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be an A-class adventurer.

You can reach the top without smarts in any field, but being the best of the best requires intellect—that’s true in sports, entertainment, and even adventuring.

“I have to be real honest with ya—these disappearances pose a real problem. I think we need to change the way we investigate. I’d like to discuss this with the ’venturers from Kailadi tomorrow. Mind settin’ things up for us?”

“Understood. Let me see... There’s a larger conference room on this floor. We can use that. I’ll let them know to assemble there at nine tomorrow morning.”

The next day, not a single adventurer from Kailadi showed up to the conference room.

“Why ain’t any of ’em here?” Hugh frowned as he paced.

It was just before ten o’clock. The four members of Room 10 and the seven members of the Hero’s party, including Roman, had been waiting for nearly an hour.

At that moment, Magistrate Goro burst into the room, panting and out of breath.

“Master McGlass, they evidently went into the forest early in the morning.”

“What?!”

“Forgive me. I summoned them to my office yesterday and told them about the meeting,” Goro said with a sigh. “How could they do this?”

“Well... They did say they’d solve this problem on their own... But nothin’ we can do ’bout it now that they’re gone. Bet yer behind I’m rippin’ ’em a new one the second they come back.” Hugh sighed and then turned to Room 10 and the Hero’s party.

“Sorry, folks. As you can see, we’re done for the day.” Then he slumped into a nearby seat.

“Then this is divine will,” Roman said. “The gods have spoken and wish me to spar with you, Ryo.”

“The gods are wrong,” Ryo refused coldly.

Roman’s eyes widened in dismay. “But why?”

“Have you forgotten our mock battles in the royal capital?” Ryo replied matter-of-factly.

“Oy, you two better not destroy the village with yer sparrin’. Hear?” Hugh interjected, a little surprised.

“As if. What kind of people do you think we are?” Ryo stared at Hugh in disbelief.

“Exactly. Simply a friendly clash of swords,” Roman added with a sardonic smile. “But if Ryo were to use magic in one of our battles, the village would most certainly be destroyed.”

“Hey!” Ryo and Hugh interjected at the same time.

Ryo meant “I would never.”

Hugh meant “We definitely can’t have that.”

As for the other three in Room 10, they were all thinking the same thing: No way am I asking Ryo to spar with me.

A little after noon.

“Eeeeeek!”

While helping to exterminate the bugs, the members of Room 10 heard a woman’s scream.

“Which way did that come from?” Nils asked.

“East. Toward the forest,” Ryo answered.

The four picked up their weapons and ran in the direction of the scream. Along the way, they were joined by the Hero’s party, who had also heard it. When they arrived, they found a village woman sitting on the ground, her eyes fixed on people covered in blood.

“Check their pulses, please,” Graham, the clergyman in the Hero’s party, said.

“Got a pulse here.”

“Here too.”

“It’s really weak, but there.”

“No pulse.”

Voices called out as they followed his order.

The victims were the adventurers from Kailadi. There should have been ten there—five from Dragon’s Jaw and five from Five Binary Stars—but they only counted seven. Of those, only two had no pulse.

“He’s in the greatest danger. The man over there as well. I shall heal those two. That one is in critical condition, albeit not as bad as these two, so please take care of him, Eto. The remaining two are injured but not knocking on death’s door, so could someone give them a potion?”

As expected of a cleric, Graham’s triage was brilliant. With so many casualties, treatment prioritization was essential, yet it was also incredibly difficult. Ryo was honestly impressed. The older man must have been through many battles... He had acquired a diverse pool of skills, which was an invaluable asset and a powerful weapon for an adventurer.

With those thoughts, Ryo removed a homemade potion from his bag.

“Um...I’ll give this to Dogon.”

Ryo lifted the vial to the man’s mouth and poured the liquid inside. Although his life wasn’t in danger, he’d sustained serious injuries all over his body. The moment he drank the potion, he started to recover. No matter how many times he saw it, the sight befuddled Ryo.

“Thank you...for saving me...”

Dogon said the words without a trace of his usual arrogance and hostility.

“It’s fine.”

Thanks to Graham’s skillful handling of the situation, his Extra Heal, and Eto’s successive Heals, the five survived. By then, Hugh and Magistrate Goro had also arrived on the scene, with rescue protocols in place.

The three most seriously injured would live, but they were put on bed rest in the infirmary, given how much blood they’d lost. The two with only minor injuries, including Dogon, were immediately taken to the main conference room to give a report. Naturally, Room 10 and the Hero’s party followed them. After all, everyone was curious about what had happened.

◆

“We were caught in a trap,” Dogon said.

Hugh wasn’t the only one who frowned. The veteran adventurers—namely Graham and Berlocke—did the same.

Of course, they knew Dogon hadn’t meant they had accidentally fallen into one of the villagers’ traps. Newly minted F-rank adventurers might have made that mistake, but no D- or C-ranks worth their salt would have. In other words, the fact that they had been ensnared indicated the existence of something sentient that could set traps and lure humans into them.

Speakin’ o’ monsters that set traps, spiders come to mind. So many of ’em are trouble, mostly ’cause they’re poisonous. Others that fall into the category would be antlions, I s’pose. But they inhabit sandy areas, so I seriously doubt we’ll find any in this forest. As far as forests go, then... Ain’t no way it’s a centaur. The southern part o’ the Kingdom is too bloody far from their natural habitat...but...chances ain’t zero, eh? What else, what else? Mayhap a shadow stalker, though they ain’t well known. The forest here is dense and lush, so it’s possible... Havin’ said that, I’d really rather not deal with that. Too much a hassle. Gods above, I just realized every single possibility is a right pain in the arse.

As expected of a former A-rank adventurer, Hugh had already made a mental list of monsters capable of setting traps.

“So, what kind o’ trap was it?” he asked.

“A pitfall.”

Dogon’s answer sent a shock wave through the three aforementioned individuals in particular.

“Impossible...”

Who muttered those words...? Was it Hugh...? Or Graham...?

Of all man-made traps, the pitfall was the simplest and easiest to lay. Most traps were designed to restrain or incapacitate a target using tools or clever engineering. Pitfalls, however, were effective even without such elaborate construction because the hole hindered its victims’ movement. But there was a catch: How did you conceal such a trap? For a pitfall to be effective, it had to be dug wide and deep, then hidden from view. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that pitfalls were among the hardest traps to conceal.

On TV and in videos on modern Earth, pitfalls are hidden under a thin layer of urethane or a sponge mat and then an additional layer of camouflage. Neither existed on Phi, so people wove thin sticks into a lattice and carpeted leaves over top to conceal the hole. The work was intricate: arranging the sticks so they didn’t fall into the hole before the target stepped on them required fairly advanced thinking.

Was there a monster capable of all this? To someone with years of field experience, including fighting countless monsters, the mere idea was unbelievable. Still, doubts remained.

“Don’t yer party ’n’ Five Binary Stars both have scouts? How come no one noticed the trap?” Hugh asked.

Dogon shook his head. “That’s what I don’t get either. We were in our typical search formation with scouts in the front and back and the magicians in the middle. But...the front three, including the scout, fell into the pit...”

He bit his lip and looked down, as if remembering what had happened next.

Maybe somethin’ that messes with the senses? A spell or poison? But I ain’t never heard o’ a monster capable o’ doin’ any o’ that...

Hugh tried not to let his face betray his thoughts.

“Dogon, the memory may hurt, but don’t forget that yer an adventurer too. You understand the importance o’ reportin’, don’t ya? We’ll need any ’n’ all details to avenge yer comrades. I trust ya know that too. So tell me what happened to the first three after they fell into the hole.”

Hugh did his best to speak calmly and rationally. Some adventurers dug their heels in if they felt like others were pitying them. As a swordsman, Hugh knew very well that there were many such adventurers, especially in frontline jobs.

“After they fell, the seven of us surrounded the hole and tried to rescue them. Looking back, I don’t think we were attacked until the rescue began because whoever or whatever waited for the right moment. The hole’s depth was double a man’s height, so we took out a bunch of rope and got our bearings. That’s when we were attacked. It’s not like we’d dropped our guard while attempting the rescue effort. But...the enemy was...powerful.”

“Can ya describe whatever attacked ya?” Hugh asked, his voice calmer and more composed than ever.

“It looked...human. But it could jump to the top of a tree in a single leap and possessed physical abilities like nothing I’d ever seen before... No weapons, though. It attacked with long claws... And its eyes, those red...scarlet eyes... It was...” Dogon trailed off and covered his face in fear, curling in on himself.

“Red eyes and long claws...” Graham, the clergyman, muttered with a scowl.

Perhaps encouraged by the cleric’s soft words, Dogon raised his head from his fetal position. “Joe, the leader of Five Binary Stars, said it was a vampire.”

The revelation stunned the four members of Room 10, still wet behind the ears as adventurers, as well as the younger members of the Hero’s party.

Beings of twilight. Lords of monsters. Rulers of the undead. Known by these names and more, vampires are among the most famous creatures in the history of fantasy. You heard right, folks! The rulers of the undead definitely aren’t skeletons! The only ones fit for the dark throne are vampires!

Ryo wanted to declare all of this out loud...but this wasn’t the time or place, so he kept quiet.

Vampires and similar creatures have existed on Earth since ancient times, both in the East and the West. In most people, including Ryo, vampires evoke an image largely shaped in modern Europe and hugely influenced by Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

Bram Stoker must have been reincarnated on Earth from another world! Just like J. R. R. Tolkien!

Of course, this thought was just a product of Ryo’s imagination.

Vlad III of the House of Drăculești, commonly known as Vlad Țepeș and the model for Dracula, wasn’t anywhere close to being the stereotypical vampire. The only things that could be considered even remotely vampiric about him were the vibe of his portrait and the fact that he impaled and displayed his Ottoman enemies... At least, that was Ryo’s opinion. In fact, he was a hero who did his best to protect his weak homeland, the Principality of Wallachia, from its neighboring superpower, the Ottoman Empire.

“Do my ears deceive me, or did you just say ‘vampire’?” Graham asked. Until then, he’d merely listened, leaving the questions to Hugh.

The guild master glanced at Graham, noting the change in his attitude.

“I couldn’t tell, but that’s what Joe said,” Dogon replied with a nod.

“Master McGlass, is Joe among the survivors?” Graham asked.

“He is. The first man you saved, the one with the most serious injuries—that’s him. He’s a lancer,” Hugh answered.

“I see. Although his life is no longer in danger, it will take some time for him to regain consciousness. When he can speak, I wish to talk to him myself.”

“Sure, I’ll call ya when he wakes up, Graham.”

The meeting ended then, and Dogon left with his comrade to look over their friends in the infirmary.

Ryo turned to Roman and beckoned him over.

“What is it, Ryo?”

Guileless, the young Hero came to him right away.

“Graham’s mood changed drastically at just the mention of vampires. I was wondering if you could shed some light on why that may be?”

Ryo wanted to know if something had happened between Graham and vampires. He didn’t want the man’s personal feelings to compromise how they might handle this situation moving forward. Naturally, his question had nothing to do with plain old curiosity. Nope, not at all.

“Right, well... In the Western Provinces, vampires are a special race. We consider them evil incarnate... In particular, the Church has hunted them down countless times...”

From Roman’s uncomfortable demeanor, Ryo guessed that the truth was actually far more complicated. He also realized pressing for more information would be a mistake.

“I see. Thank you very much for humoring me.”

Looking somewhat relieved, Roman left the room.

◆

In the magistrate’s office, Goro and folklorist Larshata sat across from each other.

“Vampires... Boggles the mind, eh...” The latter almost sounded like he was talking to himself.

“Larshata, is there a connection between cacodemons and vampires?” Goro asked.

“I have been mulling over that very question... As far as I know, nothing in the Kingdom’s legends indicates a relationship between the two.”

The fact that even Larshata hadn’t discovered a connection likely meant none existed.

“We even combed the mountain searching for the missing villagers, and quite a few of us, including myself, went into the forest... I suppose we were lucky we didn’t run into any vampires, hm?” Goro frowned as he recalled the treks. An encounter with even one of the creatures could have brought ruin to the village.

“Then it’s a good thing we found out now, eh? You know as well as I do that having Master McGlass among the reinforcements is far from ordinary. Not to mention the Hero’s party... You have, without a doubt, been favored by fortune, Goro, my friend. Trust in that.”

“Is this your way of lifting my spirits, you rascal?”

They both laughed.

The members of Room 10 sat in the dining room of the residence hall. Naturally, cups of Kona coffee sat in front of each of them.

“Vampires,” Nils suddenly said, uncharacteristically breaking the silence. Even so, his tone was serious. “Freaking vampires. Never would have thought of them.”

“Do you know about them?” Ryo was a little surprised. It made sense for Eto to know a lot about the topic, but Nils?

“Yup. Scary sons of bitches who drink human blood.”

Ryo hung his head, dejected. It was the answer he’d expected. “You know, it’s my fault for expecting more from you, Nils.”

“Seriously, Ryo?” Nils snapped, incensed. “What the hell?”

Amon grinned, watching the byplay.

Then Ryo noticed Eto’s face. He wasn’t smiling, which was unusual for the usually upbeat young man.

“Eto? Did Nils’s answer actually shock you speechless?”

“How are you gonna pin this on me?!” Nils said.

“No, sorry, nothing like that,” Eto said with a wry smile. “It’s just—Graham, was it? I’ve been thinking about his expression,” he continued with a thoughtful tilt of his head.

“Oh, yeah, now that you mention it, he did seem pretty intense. Maybe he’s got some kinda grudge against vampires?” Nils remarked, remembering the clergyman’s behavior in the conference room.

“I wonder. It’s not so bad in the Central Provinces, but...when I was at the Temple, I heard a lot of animosity toward vampires in the Western Provinces, particularly from their Church,” Eto said.

“Something about vampire hunts, right? I’ve heard about them,” Ryo said, recalling the history of witch hunts and the Inquisition on Earth. Of course, witch hunts were carried out long before Christianity’s founding, and it was well established that the Christian church hadn’t actually spearheaded many of them after the Middle Ages.

Then who had? The citizenry themselves, of course. Townspeople accused their neighbors of witchcraft and burned them at the stake... While tragic, humans are inevitably responsible for their own suffering.

“Yes,” Eto replied, “they’ve happened many times. In the Central Provinces, there have only been a few vampire sightings in the last century. If this is actually a vampire, it will be one of those few. That infrequency is why the Temple doesn’t have much information on how to fight them or which attacks are effective.” Eto must have had a lot on his mind because he spoke more slowly than usual. “All that’s to say we may need Graham’s knowledge for this battle. I have a hunch the guild master has thought about this even more deeply than we have.” He smiled ruefully.

The next morning, Hugh received news that Joe, the lancer of Five Binary Stars, had awakened. He decided to visit the infirmary with Graham from the Hero’s party and Eto from Room 10. When he went to pick up the latter, he spotted a certain water magician following stealthily behind him—although he wasn’t doing a very good job at the stealth part.

“Oy, Ryo. Don’t act so shocked, boy! A man would have to be blind to miss you creepin’ ’bout.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you took me along as well...” Ryo said, practically begging.

Hugh folded his arms and thought for a good ten seconds. Then he turned to Graham and asked, “What do ya think?”

“I witnessed his skills myself the other day in the battle underground at the royal capital’s temple. He’s quite a talented magician. I believe his aid would be a tremendous boon to us in this situation.”

“Well, well, ain’t that high praise? Guess you’re comin’ with us, Ryo.”

With that, they headed to the infirmary with Hugh leading the way.

“Master McGlass...” Joe murmured when he saw them troop in.

“Glad ya lived to tell the tale?”

“I am, and...I’m sorry. For everything.”

“B’fore ya go apologizing, there’s somethin’ you oughtta say to Graham here. He grew your missin’ parts back usin’ Extra Heal,” Hugh said pointedly, gesturing to the clergyman.

“Oh, so it was you... You’re the one who saved me. Thank you.” Joe bowed his head in gratitude. “What about my friends?”

“About that... Two of ’em died before we got back to the village. Between both parties, only five o’ you survived,” Hugh said, delivering the news as calmly as he could.

“I see...”

Joe had probably braced for this because he didn’t lose his composure. But Hugh didn’t miss his clenched fists or the slight tremor in his arms. He was merely tamping down his frustration.

A minute passed in silence.

After making sure that Joe was a bit calmer, Hugh spoke up.

“Joe, I know this is hard for ya, but I have to confirm something. Dogon already told us the details yesterday. Was it really vampires who attacked you lot?”

“Yeah...” he replied.

“Graham, anythin’ ya wanna ask?”

“Thank you, Master McGlass.” Graham looked and sounded much more composed than yesterday in the conference room. “Joe, I’d like to know how you arrived at your conclusion. Have you laid eyes upon a vampire before?”

Eto must have noticed Graham’s newfound composure because he and Ryo exchanged glances, nodding slightly.

“I’ve never seen a vampire myself. Only reason I said that was...on account of what I heard from my friend at the temple a long time ago. Red eyes, long claws, superhuman strength...” Joe spoke slowly, his mind going through his memories.

“What were they wearing? Were they dressed like nobles? And did they have shoes on their feet?”

“Their clothes? Hm... They were shabby, like something farmers or fishermen would wear. Definitely nothing fancy like aristos. As for their shoes... Well, the one who jumped into the tree was barefoot. Why do you ask?”

“Don’t worry yourself over that. Your insight is invaluable. Thank you.”

Then Hugh, Eto, and Ryo left the infirmary without asking any more questions.

◆

“Clothes... Shoes... What in the world is the point of that kind of question?” Eto practically whispered.

Ryo, walking next to him, heard him anyway.

“I’m positive that real vampires dress like nobles and wear proper shoes. In other words, what attacked Joe and the others must be similar to vampires...” Ryo said, still basing his conjecture on nothing but Count Dracula. Unlike Eto, Ryo spoke loud enough for Graham, walking ahead of them, to overhear.

The clergyman stopped suddenly, opened his eyes wide, and whipped around to face Ryo.

“Ryo, have you ever met a vampire?”

“N-No, can’t say I have...”

His intense expression startled Ryo. It even scared him a bit.

“I see... You’re quite right, though. Vampires are particular about their clothes, as if they consider themselves nobles. Thus, they leave manual labor and the like to their servants. In the Western Provinces, they are called strigoi. And they are the creatures I believe Joe and his friends had the misfortune to encounter.”

“Are the strigoi people who were bitten by vampires...?”

“Correct,” Graham answered with a grimace, deep wrinkles forming in his forehead.

“Graham, is there a way to turn strigoi back into humans?” Eto asked.

“There isn’t. Regrettably.” His expression became even more somber.

“Um... If you don’t mind, I have another question while we’re on the subject...” Ryo decided he might as well ask what was on his mind.

“Go on.”

“I’d like to know the magical properties of the strigoi and real vampires.”

“For example?”

“Their elemental strengths and weaknesses. What can they use? What is effective against them?”

“Ahhh, I see.” Graham inclined his head in understanding.

“How ’bout we take a seat in that dining hall ’n’ talk there?” Hugh suggested before striding inside.

And then...

“Four coffees.” He ordered for them all before sitting down.

Take-charge bosses like Hugh existed on Earth, but hearing the words “four coffees” on Phi was a novel experience for Ryo.

It’s actually sort of nice.

Ryo couldn’t help but smile at such a small thing.

“First of all, strigoi are weak to sunlight, but they are not incapacitated by it. Research shows that their abilities are merely halved in direct sunlight. Unfortunately, we have a dense forest in play on this occasion, so...”

“Aha. No wonder the victims all disappeared in the eastern forest ’n’ no one’s been taken directly from the village,” Hugh interjected.

“I believe that is indeed the case. Of course, nothing confines them at night, in the rain, or on cloudy days. As far as magic, strigoi cannot use it. Having said that, I’ve never heard of them being weak against any particular element either, including light.”

Graham took a sip of coffee.

“Furthermore, since they do not possess magic stones in their bodies, the only sure way to kill them is decapitation.”

He pulled his right hand across his neck in a slashing gesture. It was a universal gesture, even across worlds, apparently.

“Now, as far as vampires go... While they possess no magical weaknesses, just like strigoi, they can use all the elements.”

“What...?” Eto said.

“All of them?” Ryo asked.

Their reactions made Graham realize that he had just created a misunderstanding with this reveal.

“Apologies, I should have been clearer. By all elements, I mean vampires as a whole. An individual commands discrete elements: Some use fire magic, others earth, and so on.”

“Just like regular people, then,” Hugh remarked.

“Indeed,” Graham agreed with a grimace.

“Some denominations in the Church uphold the doctrine that vampires are born in darkness. Since they lack magic stones, they can’t be classified as monsters. However, their race has been hostile to humans throughout history, so many in the Western Provinces have mixed feelings about them. They also have an aristocratic system, from dukes at the top to barons at the bottom. You can think of rank as a rough measure of strength.”

Graham’s tone remained calm throughout his explanation.

“All above the rank of count are unspeakably, monstrously powerful. However, very few encounters with high-status vampires have occurred in the Western Provinces these last hundred years.”

No one said a word as they listened to him. For the people of the Central Provinces, this was incredibly valuable information.

“You won’t know what kind of magic a vampire uses until you face them, but they all share a racial characteristic—a prodigious magical resistance to all elements.”

“A resistance to all elements...” Ryo mumbled, unable to help himself. It sounded like something straight out of the games he used to play back on Earth.

“Therefore, in battles against vampires, magicians provide support while melee fighters are the ones who fight them directly.”

“In other words, victory rests on Roman’s and Hugh’s shoulders, huh!” Ryo exclaimed.

“Me, eh...” Hugh sighed. “Been a while since I was in the field...”

But then...

“Ryo, aren’t you well-versed in the way of the sword too?” Graham cocked his head. He knew the water magician had engaged in many mock sword fights with Roman, so he didn’t understand why the young man hadn’t been included with the melee personnel.

“Except I’m a magician!” Ryo declared proudly, even puffing his chest out.

“That’s right, I just remembered. Ryo, ain’t ya been sparrin’ with Sera too? None o’ our knights can hold a candle to ya either.” In Lune, Ryo engaged in mock battles with Sera, a swordsman considered superior even to Abel, unanimously thought of as a prodigy with the blade. Hugh had also found it odd that Ryo wasn’t included in the melee count.

“Except I’m a magician!!!” Ryo said once again, puffing his chest out.

“Are there even real vampires here, though?” Eto said, his question cutting through the farcical exchange. “It sounds like there are definitely strigoi, given the attack on Kailadi’s parties, but we can’t be certain about the presence of vampires, right?”

“You are correct on that count,” Graham said, nodding emphatically. “However, strigoi cannot be born without vampires, and should a vampire die for whatever reason, their strigoi will as well. In other words, if there are strigoi, we must assume that there is at least one vampire nearby.”

They now knew that vampires possessed magical resistance to all elements, which posed a serious problem in and of itself.

“So even a single one is a tremendous threat,” the clergyman murmured.

Afterward, the four went to update Goro in the magistrate’s office, where they found Larshata sitting next to him.

“Now we know for sure that at least one vampire is in the vicinity ’n’ at least ten of their servants, the strigoi.”

“Then the villagers who’ve disappeared are now...” Goro trailed off with a solemn look, seeking confirmation even as he arrived at the conclusion himself.

“Probably strigoi at this point,” Hugh replied with a nod.

As a guild master, Hugh knew the weight of command. If those he was charged with protecting had been turned into such...such things, his regret would be unimaginable. He sipped his coffee wordlessly, allowing Goro time to come to terms with his guilt.

“Understood,” he said thirty seconds later. “So is the vampire or vampires’ base in the eastern forest?”

Hugh hesitated, then glanced at Graham, prompting him to answer in his stead.

“Well... The possibility isn’t zero, but...” Graham started, his face thoughtful. “But, to be perfectly blunt, it isn’t very likely either. Strigoi live in all sorts of places. The same cannot be said of vampires, who tend to live in houses. It would be one thing if there were an abandoned mansion or village in the forest. However, since I haven’t heard of anything along such lines, it makes me wonder what exactly is on the other side of the eastern forest.”

At this point, Goro took a large map from a cupboard and spread it on his desk.

“This is a rough map of the area around Kona Village. As you can see, the eastern forest is quite large. The only thing beyond it is a fishing village in the outermost reaches of the Kingdom, which should be part of Baron Momor’s territory. The baron himself lives in the royal capital, so this village and his secluded manor should be managed by his caretaker. Graham, you aren’t implying...”

“It’s only a possibility. But... Yes, there is a chance that the fishing village has already fallen into the hands of vampires.”

Goro and Graham frowned as they talked. Even though the fishing village was small, several dozen people lived there. What if they had all transformed into strigoi...? No wonder their expressions turned grim.

“Either way, we need to go there ’n’ check things out for ourselves,” Hugh said decisively.

“How do we reach it from Kona without going through the forest? The south side of the forest juts out onto the coast, so you’d have to go by sea, but I don’t recommend that. The ocean’s currents make it complicated to navigate, and that’s to say nothing of the monsters. Without the sea monster repellent the fishermen use, it’d be difficult.”

Wait, what?! Something like that exists?!

Ryo was secretly elated. He needed the people of the fishing village to show him the repellent. He put it at the top of his mental checklist.

“The practical option is to go around the north side of the forest,” Goro continued. “That route would take you to Baron Momor’s residence first.”

“Oh, yeah? Ya think they’ll let ’venturers in?” Hugh sounded concerned.

“Well...that depends on His Lordship’s proxy, who is managing things there.”

“In that case, I shall accompany you,” Larshata said. “Contrary to my appearance, I am a viscount. A baron’s proxy couldn’t very well refuse to cooperate, eh?”

A very reasonable argument indeed.

“Much obliged, my lord.”

“Think nothing of it. Now I can be of some use to Kona as well.” Larshata burst out laughing.

What a wonderful aristocrat... But I guess not all of them will be as decent as him, huh? Ryo thought.

“One more thing. I’m leavin’ Dogon ’n’ his mates to defend the village. The ones in the infirmary’ll be right as rain ’n’ rarin’ to fight before ya know it.”

“An excellent idea, one for which I’m grateful. While I hope nothing happens...better safe than sorry, hm?” Goro nodded happily.

Once he’d learned they were dealing with vampires and their servants, he’d begun worrying about the village’s poor defense. Even so, it wasn’t an easy problem to solve. Sure, some of the villagers could fight, but when it came to vampires, they couldn’t possibly hold their own. Naturally, hearing that the adventurers from Kailadi would stay behind was a welcome piece of news. Though their initial behavior had left much to be desired, Goro thought that perhaps they had changed for the better after surviving a near-death experience.

Eto and Ryo returned to the guest house and explained the situation to Nils and Amon in the dining room.

“If magic doesn’t work on vampires, then it’s time for us swordsmen to take center stage!” Nils exclaimed, clearly excited by the opportunity.

But Ryo remained suspiciously silent, his eyes darting everywhere.

“Spit it out, Ryo. I know there’s something on your mind.”

“Um, well... I’m almost positive it’s going to be Roman and Hugh on the front lines...”

“Nooo...” Nils froze.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Amon nodded. “I bet they’re incredible in battle, with one being an actual Hero and the other a champion of the Great War.”

“B-But... But we’re... We’re...” Nils’s voice grew quieter and quieter.

“Nils, being in the vanguard isn’t the be-all and end-all on the battlefield! Protecting the rear guard is also a vital role for a swordsman!” Ryo said, trying to cheer him up.

“Y-You’re right! I’m not useless!” Nils managed to recover a bit from the blow.

Although Room 10’s star was on the rise, none of its members could compete with Roman the Hero or Champion McGlass. Because, right now, they were still earning their stripes at this stage of their adventuring careers...

This time, I think my job is protecting these three.

No matter how you looked at it, the Hero’s party and Hugh McGlass didn’t need Ryo. But the three members of Room 10 were a different story... Ryo nodded in his mind.

The Vampire Kalinikos

The next morning, Hugh McGlass led the expedition out of the village of Kona and arrived at Baron Momor’s manor without incident by three o’clock in the afternoon.

Standing before the building, Ryo let a faint smile cross his face...

This place is likely already overrun with vampires, and the lord’s retainer is now one of their servants. The group, caught in a trap, is then forced into a combat event! The vampire, surrounded by over a hundred of his minions, shouts to the group, “You fools, I’ve caught you in my snare. Mwa ha ha ha ha!”

Naturally, his friends noticed and whispered to each other.

“That expression...”

“Yup, no doubt about it...”

“He’s definitely thinking something bad again.”

Amon, Eto, and Nils had known him for a while now, so they knew what was on his mind.

“Oy, Ryo,” Hugh called out.

Ryo immediately composed his expression. “Yes? How may I be of service?”

“Ya thinkin’ somethin’ weird?”

Even though they hadn’t known each other long, Hugh could sense the change in Ryo. Par for the course for a former A-rank adventurer, really.

“No, not at all,” Ryo said calmly, as if everything were just dandy.

The manor wasn’t that large, which made sense, considering its owner was a merchant of only minor wealth. The caretaker who greeted them was a nondescript man in his mid-fifties with the air of a secretary. No matter how you looked at him, he was a perfectly normal person.

The moment he saw the baron’s retainer, Ryo’s shoulders slumped, and his head drooped slightly.

Ryo’s disappointment didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of Room 10.

“I knew it,” Nils muttered. “He was thinking something crazy.”

But no one heard him...

◆

“Lord Victory, is this true?” the man said.

They’d told him about the possibility that a vampire had taken up residence nearby. To confirm their suspicions, Larshata had asked for his permission to go to the fishing village. The man’s name was Kéenkan, and he had worked as head clerk for Baron Momor’s company. He’d been a wealthy merchant before his lordship’s elevation to the peerage. Afterward, the baron had appointed him as his proxy and sent him to manage this manor and fishing village on the outskirts of the Kingdom.

“But that fishing village...” Kéenkan hesitated.

“Is there a problem?” Larshata asked with a smile. He tried not to be high-handed because he wanted the man to cooperate willingly.

“Not quite... The fact of the matter is that it’s no longer part of Baron Momor’s territory.”

“What do you mean?”

Kéenkan explained that a discussion had taken place in the royal capital after which the baron had relinquished ownership of the fishing village to the royal family in exchange for land in the capital. As a result, the hamlet was no longer under his proxy’s control.

“That was about a year ago,” he said.

Hugh listened intently.

The first person vanished roughly ten months ago... Maybe there’s a connection.

If the vampires had made a move on the fishing village after it had fallen out of Kéenkan’s supervision...he could understand why it had taken them this long to find any leads on the situation.

The royal family wouldn’t send an administrator to a fishing village on the farthest reaches of the Kingdom, especially to a region that didn’t border any other country. Aside from the tax collectors dispatched yearly to determine the sum owed to the state, there wasn’t much official contact between this remote area and the government.

“Regardless of the village’s size, surely peddlers still visit it?” Larshata wondered.

“Even before their village became part of the barony, the villagers apparently used to travel by boat to buy goods. Therefore, it’s entirely possible that no one from the outside has been there since I stopped going...” Kéenkan said with a frown and a shake of his head.

“Understood. Based on what you’ve told me, I can’t imagine you or the baron could be held responsible. I will put in a good word for you when I report to the capital, so rest easy.”

“Thank you very much, my lord.” Kéenkan bowed deeply to show his gratitude.

◆

“Three hours on this road...”

The group stayed the night at the manor and set off for the fishing village the next morning. They would reach their destination just before noon. Even if it had already fallen into the hands of the vampires, the timing of their arrival would still give them an advantage in battle over the strigoi...

“It’s really cloudy, isn’t it?” Ryo said, looking up.

“Sure is, eh... Graham, considerin’ the state o’ the sky, I’m guessin’ it’s safe to assume the strigoi...”

“...won’t be impacted at all. They will most likely be at full strength,” Graham answered with a bitter twist to his lips.

“Well, that’s gonna be a problem, ain’t it?” Hugh scowled at the cloudy sky, then turned his gaze back to Ryo. “Ryo, how would you fight the strigoi?”

“I would freeze the entire village. I have just the perfect water magic spell for that. I call it ‘Permafrost.’”

“Lad, don’t ya dare,” Hugh said. He’d just been making conversation, but he regretted asking at all after hearing Ryo’s answer. “Ya best not forget that it’s under the direct control o’ the royal family. Ya got a few screws loose for even thinkin’ that’s a viable option.”

◆

“For whatever reason, Hugh rejected my perfect plan even though he asked me in the first place,” Ryo complained to his three Room 10 companions as they walked.

“What exactly was your plan?” Eto, being the kind person he was, asked him.

“Curious, aren’t you? And why wouldn’t you be? He asked me how I would fight the strigoi, so I told him I’d freeze the entire village using the perfect spell. But then he told me not to do that, which I found bewildering... It’s an incredibly effective spell.” Ryo shook his head, lamenting the impermanent nature of the world.

“If I were him, I’d have given you the same answer. Freezing the whole village? Man, that’s crazy talk...”

“But it would prevent any counterattack!”

“And what about any normal people who’re still there? Folks who haven’t been turned?”

“Not a problem. Freezing them doesn’t kill them, and once I thaw them, they’d be right as rain!” Ryo brimmed with confidence.

“O-Oh... Well... In that case...” Nils pressed a palm to his forehead and nodded a little to himself. His expression suggested he was beating himself up for forgetting exactly the type of guy Ryo was.

“Setting aside the issue of freezing the village,” Eto said, “we do need a way to stop the strigoi if we cannot avoid fighting them. Their mobility is well beyond that of any normal person.”

“Ryo, when we accepted the quest for my village, you tied the monster’s arms and legs with ropes that looked like they were made of ice,” Nils said. “Wouldn’t that work?”

“It isn’t a guarantee if my opponent is too fast,” Ryo replied with a shake of his head. “That’s why I think freezing the entire village is our best option...”

“And we already told you that’s not happening,” Nils said.

“How to spot a lightning-fast opponent? Always the question at the heart of combat,” opined Amon. It was typical that the youngest among them was expressing the most reasonable views.

After another half hour of walking, they were close to the fishing village when Ryo’s Passive Sonar alerted him to someone far away observing their group. He hastened closer to Hugh. Even though the guild master was already talking to Graham, he glanced at Ryo.

“Hugh, we’re being watched. There are two of them.”

“You’re joking!” Morris, the scout of the Hero’s party, gasped.

“They’re maintaining a distance of three hundred meters. I detected them using water magic,” Ryo said, blithely touting the superiority of water magic.

“Astounding...” Morris whispered, just as stunned as Ryo had expected.

“The fact we’re bein’ watched don’t bode well for the fishing village, eh? Everyone in it coulda been turned into strigoi.” Hugh shook his head with a grimace. “Graham, are ya absolutely sure that strigoi can’t be turned back into humans?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Although decidedly inhumane, experiments on this very matter were conducted in the Western Provinces in the past. I believe it happened after a prince became a strigoi. They dissected many of the creatures and learned that their brains had degenerated, making it impossible to return them to their original state. If their vampire master dies, so does the servant. Basically, physical changes occur in addition to the magical ones,” he said, frustrated, his face twisting in disgust. “It means there is no recourse for the damned...”

“I see... That’s too bad.” Hugh stopped walking and turned to face the group. “Listen up. If any strigoi come at us, take ’em down. Don’t think twice. Hesitate, ’n’ ya just might send one o’ us to the grave.”

Although he didn’t raise his voice, Hugh’s words hit home, striking each and every one of them in the gut.

Thirty minutes later, the group arrived at the plaza in front of the fishing village’s gate. A man in well-tailored clothes awaited them, arrogantly perched on a chair. He looked around thirty years old and was flanked by men and women—or, rather, people who had formerly been men and women. Now, they were unmistakably strigoi.

“He should have ambushed us,” Ryo muttered. “I suppose vampires are too honest for their own good, hm?”

Only Nils overheard him, probably because he stood right next to him. He frowned, then shook his head in subtle exasperation. No one noticed.

Then the vampire fired the first shot.

“So you’ve finally deigned to grace us with your presence,” he said with disdain. “I must admit, I didn’t expect it to take you this long.”

“Well, now, I take it ya know exactly why we’re here, then?”

“But of course. To deliver our prompt defeat, no? I must say, I’m quite pleased to see you’ve brought a contingent of powerful adventurers to do the deed.”

“Let me guess—talented folks make better servants, eh? That why ya so pleased?”

“Aren’t you clever?” The vampire laughed, visibly delighted. “As your soon-to-be master, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Earl Kalinikos Haskill.”

“An earl...” Graham murmured. Even though no one heard him, his shock was obvious.

The people of the Western Provinces had been waging a war against vampires for over a thousand years now, but the conflict had been waning for the last century or so. Why? Because of an inexplicable decline in the vampires’ population.

It was exceedingly uncommon to come across a vampire who was a viscount, let alone an earl...assuming the prevailing theories on vampires were correct, of course. A great deal of information about them wasn’t publicly available. Even so, Graham knew it was extremely rare to come face-to-face with an earl-class figure.

When dealing with earl- and viscount-class vampires, collecting as much information as possible beforehand was vital. Unfortunately, they didn’t have that luxury this time. That explained why a touch of apprehension unfurled inside Graham even though the strongest human combat assets, the Hero and a champion, stood on their side...

“We don’t plan on kowtowin’ to the likes o’ ya, so you’ll hafta ’scuse our lack o’ introductions. Just consider us ’venturers on a mission to defeat a vampire.”

Hugh drew his sword.

The rest of the vanguard, Roman included, took that as their cue to draw their own weapons while the rear guard held their staves and such at the ready.

“Interesting. Then I’ll work you as my nameless servants until your deaths, whensoever that may be,” Kalinikos intoned.

Then the strigoi sprang into action.

Thus, the battle between adventurers and vampires began not in the forest as originally planned, but in the fishing village.

Half of the sixty strigoi attacked at the same time.

“Roman, you ’n’ me are goin’ after the vampire!”

With Roman at his heel, Hugh charged past the attacking strigoi and ran toward the vampire waiting among the servants who’d remained behind. The remaining ten of their group remained back to contend with the strigoi.

“Stone Javelin.”

“Air Slash.”

“Fire Javelin.”

The three magicians in the Hero’s party fired off their attacks, one after another.

“Son of a bitch!” Berlocke shouted.

“My spell didn’t land...” Alicia said, dismayed.

“How the hell are they so fast?!” Gordon said.

They prided themselves on the speed of their spells, but the strigoi had evaded them. They had never experienced anything like this in the Western Provinces. The strigoi drew ever closer to Room 10’s two swordsmen and its last line of defense, Nils and Amon. Although their opponents dodged their blades, the two young men nevertheless deftly kept them at bay with their bucklers.

At the same time, the enchanter Ashkhan and the scout Morris kept up with the strigoi. They had always been confident in their speed and were even faster now thanks to the former’s Party Haste spell. Little by little, they were inflicting damage on the vampire’s servants.

What about Ryo? Of course, he wasn’t idling at a time like this. He was working hard using his Ice Wall to protect Eto and Graham, the healers and the rear guard, as well as the folklorist Larshata, who was a noncombatant. Whenever he got the chance, he attempted to restrain the lightning-fast strigoi with his Ice Bind...

“Darn. I can’t generate it fast enough...”

Even though it took Ryo a fraction of a second to create his Ice Band, it still wasn’t quick enough.

“Is my eyesight the limiting factor?” he wondered.

A person’s field of view encompassed the seventy degrees directly ahead of them, thirty-five to the left and thirty-five to the right. By physically turning their head, they could extend that range to above a hundred degrees on either side. However, the strigoi moved so fast that one couldn’t move their head fast enough to keep up.

“If only I could track them using something other than my eyes...”

Passive Sonar and Active Sonar were by no means fast in terms of recognition speed. If only he could directly detect a part of the creature’s body, such as its water content... Unless he’d taken stock of his target’s internal layout through direct contact before engaging them, it was impossible for Ryo, even at his current power level, to sense their body’s water content.

“What if they were wet?”

Eto and Graham had been listening in on him the whole time. They had both been glancing occasionally at him while calling out instructions as necessary to the others...especially Graham, who had been guiding everyone aside from the members of his own party.

“I’m going to make it rain for a moment,” he informed Graham.

He no longer bothered to tell Eto or the rest of Room 10; by now, they already knew anything related to water or ice was his doing. By this point, they weren’t even surprised anymore... Well, mostly. It was a different story for the Hero’s party, which wasn’t accustomed to Ryo’s shenanigans. That was why he’d warned Graham.

“Squall,” Ryo chanted before the clergyman could react.

True to his word, he covered the area in rain for just a moment. He barely managed to avoid hitting the front lines, where Roman and Hugh were fighting, but the rear guard and the surrounding strigoi were drenched. Speaking of, the strigoi’s numbers had somehow swelled from thirty to fifty in the blink of an eye.

Ryo could now track any opponent drenched in water through magic instead of relying on his vision. More accurately, he was tracking the water covering the strigoi rather than the creatures themselves. Once he dialed in his senses, he visualized the liquid freezing.

“Freeze.”

The water on the surface of their bodies began to freeze, attracting the moisture in the air and causing the ice to expand. In an instant, fifty strigoi found themselves encased in ice, which slowed their movements. Naturally, neither the members of the Hero’s party nor the two swordsmen from Room 10 were the kind of amateurs to let this opportunity pass them by. As the strigoi gradually became unable to move at all, they had their heads chopped off one by one.

“Did we do it?” Nils huffed after decapitating the last ice-covered strigoi.

Though the rear guard had held their own, the real battle was only beginning.

On the front line, Roman the Hero and Hugh faced off against the vampire, Kalinikos, and two strigoi who seemed his closest aides. The two men had cut through eight of his servants to reach the vampire, but these strigoi were in a league of their own. First of all, their clothing...

“They used to be ’venturers, eh?” Hugh murmured.

“Correct,” Kalinikos said with a sneer.

The Hero and the champion far outmatched the humans these strigoi had been in their previous lives, but their transformations had stretched their physical abilities beyond normal limits. Now, they made up what they lacked in skill with sheer speed and power.

“I think I’ll enter the fray myself. Should alleviate some of my boredom.”

Kalinikos produced a red sword from his palm.

“A blood sword...” Roman murmured.

“Also correct. Color me surprised to learn how much you know about vampires. How unusual for adventurers of the Central Provinces.”

The vampire hadn’t yet realized the Hero and his party’s true identities. The only thing he seemed to understand was that Roman and Hugh were much more powerful than the adventurers-turned-strigoi under his command, which explained why he was so quick to join the fight. It certainly wasn’t a means to entertain himself like he said.

Kalinikos squared off with Roman while Hugh dealt with the two former adventurers. The vampire’s swordsmanship was so excellent that Roman couldn’t take him down easily. Vampires were said to have far greater endurance than humans, which meant Kalinikos would gain a larger advantage for every second that passed.

Up until this point, the vampire had been beaming with confidence.

Confidence that shattered as he watched the strigoi attacking the rear guard slow to a standstill and lose their heads one after another.

“What in the world...”

The notion that fifty strigoi could be decimated without inflicting a single casualty had not even occurred to Kalinikos.

While Roman and Hugh couldn’t determine what had happened behind them with only a glance, they easily picked up on the vampire’s agitation. In which case, the unwritten rules of battle dictated they exploit this opening.

The vampire master’s frustration extended to his servants too, dulling their mobility just enough for Hugh to slice off their sword arms. Not a second after, he cut off their heads. It was truly a superhuman feat. His swordsmanship was so advanced it amazed even Roman, who’d caught it all from the corner of his eye.

I wouldn’t expect any less from a champion and renowned former A-rank adventurer...

“Damn you... Such an unpleasant surprise,” Kalinikos said through clenched teeth. He backpedaled so quickly that even Roman almost missed it. The vampire must have enhanced his physical powers to gain that kind of speed.

“Slave,” he chanted.

In that moment, a miasma clouded Roman’s and Hugh’s minds, tearing their consciousness to pieces. Roman clenched his teeth, enduring the onslaught, but Hugh dropped to one knee.

“What’s happening?” Nils blurted, watching everything unfold with the rest of the group.

But nobody could answer him. Ryo might have pieced it together if he’d heard Kalinikos’s chant, but Graham realized right away, even without hearing it.

“Never say he’s using dark magic...” he muttered. Then he thrust his staff forward and chanted, “Evil Protection.”

The air rippled, and then a hemisphere with a five-meter radius formed around him.

“Hurry, get inside!” he shouted at Nils and Amon, who stood nearby. They almost fell in their rush to do his bidding, then looked back to the front line.

“What in the hell is happening?” Nils repeated.

“I suspect he cast the dark magic known as Slave,” Graham answered. “A dangerous spell that allows the user to control their target however they please.”

“Then they’re...” Eto trailed off.

“I’m almost certain Roman is doing his best to resist. The Hero’s magical resistance is the highest among mankind. However, no one else can defy an earl-class vampire’s dark magic. Not even saints or holy women.” Graham grimaced. “Nor Master McGlass...”

“In other words, he plans on making Roman and Hugh kill each other,” Ryo remarked.

Ryo thought back to his own encounter with an adherent of the God of Darkness, who’d cast Slave on him during his and Abel’s trek back to Lune from the royal capital. His attempt had failed thanks to Abel’s item, which provided resistance against mind control magic.

“Maybe Hugh has something capable of warding off the spell?” Ryo asked Graham, hopeful.

“Sadly, I doubt our prayers will be answered. Items of that level are considered national treasures in the Central and Western Provinces. Even a figure as celebrated as Master McGlass wouldn’t be in possession of something of its ilk...”

Ryo furrowed his brow. Then what does that say about Abel...?

This wasn’t the time or place for those kinds of questions.

“Is there a way to cancel the spell?” Alicia, the air magician, asked.

“Other than defeating the caster? No,” Graham answered. His expression had never looked so bitter.

Then the rear guard saw Hugh stand.

“Hugh!” Roma called out. He knew something was wrong with him. Hugh had been concealing his strength under the veil of his affability, but the second he stood, he projected an aura of unleashed aggression and raw strength.

When Hugh met Roman’s eyes, he immediately slashed with his sword. Having sensed the change in the atmosphere, the Hero hadn’t dropped his guard. If he had, the flash of Hugh’s sword would have ended his life then and there.

I expected no less from a swordsman titled “Master of the Sword.”

Roman was likely stronger and quicker than Hugh, but the guild master was overwhelmingly more proficient with a sword. During his fight with Abel in the capital, he’d known the other man was the better swordsman, but Roman probably would have won if their clash had continued. The same couldn’t be said now.

Hugh perfectly parried the Hero’s high-speed strikes. The timing of his stroke, the angles, the counterattacks—Roman was utterly outmatched.

One mistake and I’m done for.

Roman swung his sword, suffocated by a heavy pressure he had never felt before.

The duel between Roman the Hero and Champion McGlass would have been out-of-this-world entertainment for any audience, including those people who didn’t even know them. Each swordsman represented his region, the Western Provinces and Central Provinces respectively. Those who were familiar with them were even more captivated.

“Amazing...”

Even Gordon, a fire magician with absolutely no interest in swordplay, was spellbound. Nils, for some reason, was crying. Something truly astounding could stir someone’s heart even when their lives were on the line. A once-in-a-lifetime battle between two of the best swordsmen was one of those things. The spectacle was so significant that simply watching would raise Nils’s sword skills by a level.

Another swordsman was also watching: Amon.

His intent eyes didn’t miss a single movement. His arms and legs twitched ever so slightly as he simulated their moves in his mind... Ryo was the only one who noticed.

At first, Ryo had been fascinated by the duel. After ten strikes, it became clear to him that Roman would lose, and he couldn’t bear to continue observing. If the hero died here... This was exactly why he’d stopped Roman and Abel when they’d fought.

“The Hero needs to defeat the Demon King.”

Those words ran through Ryo’s head. Roman’s death would pose a serious problem in that regard. His becoming a strigoi would too.

To everyone except Ryo, Hugh and Roman probably seemed evenly matched—but Ryo knew the guild master’s speed and power eclipsed Roman’s. He couldn’t overcome that difference, which meant someone in the rear guard had no choice but to act.

The Slave spell that was cast back in that hidden shrine... Abel overcame it with an item, but I resisted it on my own. Maybe because I have the power to exorcise evil, like Sera said. It should extend to those around me too... That’s probably why she stays... It’s never had anything to do with my charm.

Ryo was depressed for just a moment, but he quickly rallied his flagging spirits.

No, my charm’s a part of me too. In fact, you could say it’s my strong point! The guardian beast of Nils’s village said just being near me extended its lifespan... Okay, let’s do this.

Ryo clutched Murasame but didn’t generate its blade. “Roman!” he shouted. “Switch with me.”

“Huh?”

The sudden callout from the back line threw the Hero for a loop.

“Switch places with me on my signal. Three, two, one... Now!”

At that moment, Roman leaped backward. Hugh pursued him, but Ryo suddenly dashed in front of Roman and thrust Murasame’s ice blade at Hugh. Ryo fended off Hugh’s charge with three jabs of his sword, allowing Roman to retreat to safety.

Now, it was a duel between Ryo and Hugh.

The vampire looked surprised by the turn of events, then a thin, sardonic smile curled his lips.

“The Slave spell is very much active,” he said. “For whatever reason, it had no effect on the young swordsman, but I’m sure the same won’t be true of you.”

“Respectfully, I’m not so sure.”

Ryo continued battling Hugh without a mote of hesitation. During the hidden shrine incident, he had dropped to his knees when the spell was cast on him since it was his first experience with it. This time, even when he entered the boundaries of the dark magic, he continued to fight without stopping. As their blades crossed five, six, and then ten times, Kalinikos began to realize something was wrong.

“You... Why aren’t you under my spell?”

“You tell me. Perhaps my constitution just isn’t suited for it?” Ryo answered mockingly.

“Like hell! Not many can withstand the power of an earl’s casting of Slave!”

“Well, it didn’t work on the young swordsman either, did it?”

Ryo kept Hugh at bay while talking to Kalinikos. He’d never intended to harm Hugh with a sword. He only attempted to protect himself, and he was good at defense. Even against Sera, empowered by the overwhelming speed, power, and superb skill of her Wind Robe technique, he could hold his own for nearly two hours.

Not even Champion McGlass could penetrate Ryo’s ironclad defense so easily.

After they’d crossed swords another two hundred times, the moment Ryo had been waiting for arrived. Hugh swung and missed dramatically, then fell to one knee, his head drooping.

“Wh-What is happening?!” Kalinikos said, confounded.

For all the onlookers knew, Ryo had simply dodged Hugh’s horizontal slash. Physically, that was the extent of what had happened...

However, there was another reason why Hugh had dropped to one knee...

“Ya bastard...”

As Hugh raised his head, something gleamed in his left hand. A dagger.

It flew right at the space between the vampire’s eyebrows, but Kalinikos swatted it aside with his blood sword.

But it was a trap, and Hugh now stood in arm’s reach. During the dagger’s flight, he’d closed the gap between them in a single bound. By the time the vampire had smacked the knife away, Hugh was already in range. His sword struck four times, each slash accompanied by a brilliant flash of light. Each blow coincided with another one of the vampire’s limbs falling from its body.

“Ngh!”

Apparently, even vampires felt pain when cut.

“Curse you... But it’s no use. I’ll recover before you can even blink... Hm? Why aren’t you moving?”

Kalinikos looked at the stumps of his severed limbs. Normally, they would return to his body and reattach themselves immediately, but there was no sign of this happening.

“In yer own words, ‘it’s no use,’ vampire. I wield the holy sword Galahad. It prevents regenerative abilities like yers,” Hugh practically spat as he gazed down at his enemy, now much shorter after losing his legs.

“A holy sword? But only a handful of adventurers in the Central Provinces even carry such a weapon...”

“Yer right. I’m one o’ them. Might as well introduce myself now, eh? My name is Hugh McGlass. I’m the guild master of Lune’s adventurers’ guild.” Hugh bowed, ever so politely.

“A champion of the Great War... I never imagined such a lauded figure would join us right from the start... Perhaps I was too naive.”

Kalinikos looked utterly dejected.

Ice Wall Package.

Still, Ryo remained on guard. Based on what he knew from light novels, all sorts of vampires could exist. There were some who exploded into a cloud of bats and escaped, others who cursed their victims as they died, and others who didn’t hesitate to take their opponents down with them in a final act of self-destruction.

As usual, of course, he was just entertaining his fantasies.

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” A very wise saying applicable in any situation. These are the words of Disraeli, the British politician. And politicians are inherently brilliant individuals. Yes, indeed they are...

Kalinikos, his limbs lopped off and his head drooping, stood surrounded by Ryo’s Ice Wall.

“So, ya called yerself Earl Haskill,” Hugh said.

The rear guard observed from within Graham’s Evil Protection spell. Morris, the scout of the Hero’s party, stared at Ryo and Hugh, outside of the spell’s range, quizzically.

He couldn’t keep his head down forever. Finally, he looked up. “Yes, I am Earl Kalinikos Haskill. Victory belongs to you. You know how to kill a vampire, do you not? Go on,” he said boldly.

“There’s somethin’ we wanna know first,” Hugh said, making it clear there was a reason they hadn’t already killed him.

The corners of Kalinikos’s mouth twisted derisively.

“And you believe I’ll tell you the truth?”

Expecting this response, Hugh continued without hesitation in his attitude or change in his expression.

“Haskill, if ya really are an earl, you must carry the pride o’ a noble. We trounced ya ’n’ yers fair ’n’ square. Not a single casualty ourselves, I might add, and resisted yer dark magic to boot. To withhold information from us even after we bested ya... Don’t ya have any shame as a man o’ the elite?”

An appeal to his aristocratic pride. In negotiations, bringing up whatever the other party values most is a fundamental tactic. Normally, it’s difficult to ascertain what the other person might treasure most, but Kalinikos’s conceit had been apparent from the start, so it was easy to grasp.

“Pride of a noble, hmm...” Kalinikos murmured. “The irony of a human telling me what it means to be a noble... Very well, I won’t tell you everything, but I suppose I can spare some answers.” He puffed out his chest, arrogance strengthening his voice.

Hugh’s plan had worked.

“First thing I wanna know is why ya took control of this fishing village.”

“While I said I would give you answers,” he said with a sigh, “I suggest you carefully consider your phrasing. How am I to respond to such a vague question?”

“Ya don’t say. Nothin’ stoppin’ ya from spittin’ out everythin’ on yer mind, though, eh?”

“And make things easy for you? Perish the thought. Besides, there are some answers even I’m not at liberty to give you. Having said that, my command of this village arrived by chance.” Kalinikos’s expression didn’t change.

“Chance, eh? Next question. Are there more vampires comin’?”

“No. I was...exiled by my people. Don’t ask why. I merely lost in the usual power struggle. You know how these things go. I was planning to travel farther away by sea, but as luck would have it, I was caught in a storm and ended up in this fishing village,” Kalinikos answered with a shrug.

“Then why did you turn the villagers into strigoi?”

“That boils down to an old difference in opinion between us and humans. You raise pigs and chickens to eat their meat and eggs, do you not? You don’t condemn yourselves for that, no? What we vampires do to your kind is no different. You may find it reprehensible, but I’m of the opinion that your pigs and chickens would find little defensible about your behavior.”

That’s right... Ryo thought. While humans back on Earth were pretty all-powerful, the same isn’t true on Phi. There are plenty of more powerful creatures in the mix, like dragons and gryphons. Humans aren’t strong in the eyes of vampires either.

Meanwhile, Hugh shook his head.

He’s the only vampire here. More ain’t comin’. There’s only one other thing left to find out.

“Tell me what ya know about the cacodemon slumberin’ ’round these parts.”

Kalinikos’s eyebrow twitched just a little. He smoothed out his expression instantly, but the following silence lasted several seconds. Finally, he sighed deeply.

“Just west of this plaza, about fifteen minutes into the forest, there is a cave. A stone coffin lies at the back of this cave. Perhaps you refer to what’s inside?”

“Perhaps?” Hugh asked with a quizzical tilt to his head.

“I haven’t looked. The moment I placed my hand on the coffin yesterday, I was robbed of half my mana. That was when I knew something terrifying rested within. I had no wish to know what it was either, so I simply left.” Kalinikos grimaced, taking a slow breath. “Although...I think it will likely emerge soon.”

“What did you say?”

“By taking my magic, it has accelerated its own recovery. Allow me to hazard a guess as to its presence: Did it commit an atrocity of some sort against you humans?” He cackled, his lips curved in a sneer.

“Unbelievable...” Larshata, the folklorist, muttered.

“Even you should know I only have so much blood to spare. It’s high time you end me,” Kalinikos said, his voice quieter now. His face had already been pale, but it was clear that he was nearing death.

“That’s all I wanted to ask ya. Anybody else got any final questions for him?”

Hugh looked pointedly at Graham, who shook his head.

Ryo raised his right hand. “May I ask one?”

“Sure, go on.” With a nod, he made way for Ryo to approach the vampire.

“Earl Haskill, you mentioned earlier that you had been exiled. Please tell me where the vampire nation is located.”

Once his words had filtered properly through everyone’s eardrums and their meaning had settled into their brains, everyone’s eyes widened. Their enemy had mentioned such a thing. Did that mean an entire nation of vampires actually existed?

“Hmph. My fault for speaking too freely. I was relieved when no one pointed it out, but I see I dropped my guard too early... Says quite a lot about a whelp like you to ask such a vexing question at the very end.”

He looked positively subdued at that moment.

Banishment carried great weight and meaning for humans. While the people of the Central Provinces were unaware of any vampire nations, the fact that a vampire had been exiled from its home and washed up here indicated a high probability that this nation wasn’t at the ends of the world—but instead nearby. That in and of itself was a serious problem.

“As I mentioned, there are questions I cannot answer. Yours is among them, whelp. Doing so would place my former brethren in jeopardy. Though I bear a grudge against those who banished me, I cannot betray others.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” Ryo stepped back. He knew he wouldn’t get any more information out of the vampire even if he pushed him.

The only thing he’d wanted to confirm was the existence and location of the vampire nation. If it were somewhere remote, or in the Western or Eastern Provinces, the earl would have said so. The fact that he’d refused to answer was proof of its proximity. Of course, Ryo wasn’t interested in destroying the nation. He was just curious.

Then Kalinikos muttered something, his voice almost inaudible. His words might have been directed at someone in his former homeland.

“We spent nearly a hundred years telling them to always use incantations, thereby weakening their magics, but none of these people did that.”

Having said his piece, Ryo was about to yield the floor to anyone else interested in questioning the vampire when that muttered remark made him freeze.

“Wait, what did you just—”

“Right then,” Graham interrupted. “If no one objects, I shall slay this creature. Ryo, please remove the ice wall.”

Ryo missed the chance to press Kalinikos thanks to the clergyman’s order, which he obeyed. Kalinikos snorted when he saw Graham’s outfit... Most likely, the sight of the emblem of the Western Church hanging from his neck triggered his derision.

“Well, well, to think a priest from the Western Church was here all along... Ahhh, so it was you who cast Evil Protection.”

“I regret to inform you that you are mistaken, vampire.”

As Graham spoke, he pulled something out of his staff.

It’s a trick staff!

That revelation sent all thoughts of Kalinikos’s muttering right out of Ryo’s mind. That staff was just like Zatoichi’s! It concealed a straight sword inside!

“I am not a priest but an archbishop. Archbishop Graham.”

Then he took up an offensive stance, ready to strike.

“Archbishop Graham...? No, don’t tell me... The head of the Inquisition...” Kalinikos’s eyes widened in shock. “Vampire Hunter and—Master Graham...”

“You are mistaken again, vampire. I am not merely a ‘master,’ but a doctor. Dr. Graham, specialist in vampire studies, at your service.”

The shock in Kalinikos’s eyes transformed into rage.

“You... How many of us have you killed?”

Graham swung, cutting off his neck with his straight sword, and then swiftly pierced his heart.

“You make 256.”

The Western Church’s official method of killing a vampire was to lop off its head and stab it through the heart with a consecrated weapon. Graham’s actions were perfectly in line.

“Gordon, burn the neck, torso, and all four limbs,” Graham instructed the fire magician, thus ensuring the utter annihilation of the vampire named Kalinikos.

◆

“I don’t even know what to say,” Nils said, amazed. “Except that Graham was awesome, huh?”

“I agree. His swordsmanship is leagues beyond yours, Nils.” Ryo was happy to play along in his own offbeat way.

“That’s not what I meant!” Nils retorted.

“All right, Nils. All jokes aside, just because this feels like it’s over doesn’t mean you can lose sight of our true goal here—the cacodemon,” Ryo said as casually as ever.

A few moments later, Nils’s eyes widened, like his brain finally registered Ryo’s words.

“Oh, yeah... You’re right.”

He was reminded why Hugh McGlass and the Hero’s party had come out here from the city of Lune—to deal with the cacodemon, whose existence was all but confirmed at this point. The vampire incident had occurred after the fact.

“We’ll take a short break after burnin’ the strigoi corpses,” Hugh called, “then we’ll head to the cave where the cacodemon is.”

They found it right away.

“Someone or something broke the seal at the entrance. Why?” Berlocke asked as he inspected the cave. “Beats me. An earthquake or something shifted the rocks blocking the entrance and exposed the cave.”

The dwarven earth magician of the Hero’s party could be considered the resident stone expert.

“The amazin’ thing is that the seal had been functioning for 950 years. It takes magic to keep it goin’, so it makes ya wonder where exactly that magic’s comin’ from, eh?” Hugh muttered, his eyes on the entrance.

The answer is most likely alchemy, Ryo concluded. According to the black notebook “Hasan” kept, there’s a type of seal that uses the prodigious mana supply of whoever is locked within.

Ryo, of course, had no intention of showing the notebook to anyone or even revealing its existence. He didn’t plan on telling them such an alchemical technique existed either.

Moreover, “Hasan” had written that the method was an abnormal use of alchemy. Forcibly using someone’s own mana to seal them away was, to put it politely, inhumane. If Ryo mentioned that alchemy had such a dangerous utility, he could be persecuted! Although at his current proficiency, he couldn’t use such techniques anyway.

He’d been using Passive Sonar since they had entered the forest. Initially, it had blipped for both normal animals and monsters, but those alerts decreased as they drew closer to the cave. About three hundred meters away, the blips ceased entirely.

That means that the local wildlife knows something’s dangerous.

With that thought, Ryo glanced at Hugh. At the group’s head, the guild master had already unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready, indicating he might have already detected the unusual atmosphere. Ryo expected nothing less of a former A-rank adventurer.

The group entered the cave slowly. The walls yawned open around them. A stone coffin stood at the back.

“As far as I can tell, there aren’t any physical traps...” Morris the scout announced.

“Likely has something to do with the vampire’s visit,” Graham said. He looked at Hugh. “He did say half of his mana was taken when he touched the coffin. Now, what say we inspect it for ourselves?”

“I’m gonna be real honest: I don’t got a plan for what comes next. May as well roll the dice,” Hugh replied with a shrug.

Out of sheer coincidence, the stone coffin suddenly began to glow.

“What the hell?”

Even a child would have realized something was wrong. The coffin began vibrating, then the cave followed suit. Rocks started falling from the ceiling.

“Shit! Everyone, haul yer arses outta here!” Hugh shouted, and they all obeyed, running outside. He was the last to exit it. Just as he did, the cave collapsed. While the group stood there stunned, the glow from a moment earlier brightened.

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” Alicia murmured.

“Funny. I was about to say the same thing,” Gordon agreed in a low voice.

Magicians were sensitive to the flow of magic. Whether they liked it or not, the magicians here could sense that whatever was at the heart of the light possessed an enormous supply of mana.

Suddenly, the rubble exploded.

“Ice Wall.”

Ryo generated a wall of ice in front of them, protecting everyone from the flying rocks. An overpowering magical pressure assaulted them, heavier than anything they’d felt until now. At this point, even the non-magicians understood they were in the presence of a monstrosity.

When the cloud of dust and flying rocks settled, the shining object became faintly discernible.

“Is that a person?” someone said, voicing the same thought everyone else was thinking.

Whatever it was, it was the same size as a person.

Then the “person” began to hover. Once it rose five meters into the air, the group got a clear view of what they were facing: a beautiful woman radiating light. Her skin was snow-white, and her light purple hair grew past her waist. They couldn’t tell the color of her eyes, which were closed...

“She’s lovely...” Alicia said.

“She’s floating...” Gordon said.

“Is that air magic?” Berlocke asked.

Ryo shook his head.

No, that isn’t air magic.

He knew that much thanks to his practically daily sparring sessions with Sera, an expert on air magic. He didn’t know what exactly the “person” in front of them was using, but it wasn’t air magic. It wasn’t fire, earth, or water magic, and it probably wasn’t light or dark magic either.

In short, whatever magic was being deployed to make her float, it wasn’t elemental.

Ryo trembled.

Is she manipulating gravity?

Gravitational magic often emerged as a trope in isekai stories, so it wouldn’t be weird to encounter it here on Phi. It was only natural that Ryo got excited at the sight of magic capable of creating phenomena yet to be explained by modern Earth science.

Leonore, the akuma, had exposed Ryo to spatial jumps using “dimensional storage” and “cloisters,” but he hadn’t been excited at all back then. Only now, with something manifesting in a way he could only make sense of by labeling it “antigravity,” did he begin to shake with excitement.

Yes, it was gravity after all. The key to everything lay in gravity...

The half-formed thought whispered through his mind.

But it still wasn’t enough. Gravity alone couldn’t explain what he was seeing. He was still missing an important piece of the puzzle...

Thoughts, conscious and subconscious, jumbled in his head in response to the fascinating scene before him. Ryo stared intently, along with the rest of the group.

Nobody knew how much time had passed, but finally the floating being opened her eyes.

They shone gold.

That snapped the group out of their shock. Graham readied his staff.

Feeling the clergyman’s magic rising, as if he were about to go on the offensive, Ryo yelled without thinking: “Don’t attack her!”

His shout surprised them. The floating “person” looked toward Ryo, a faint smile playing on her lips. Then she rose further into the air, flying off to the west.

All they could do was watch it happen.

For two minutes, no one moved or spoke.

“Ryo, why did you stop me?” Graham finally said, breaking the silence. His tone wasn’t reproachful. If anything, he sounded curious.

“Because I thought that if we did, she would retaliate and kill us all.”

It wasn’t a lie. He had felt the difference in power and believed he had made the right call in choosing not to intervene. But that wasn’t the full story.

Perhaps he also wanted to see more of her controlling gravity. Whether or not she was actually manipulating gravity didn’t matter; just the sight of her floating and glowing was beautiful.

But there was one more thing—a feeling he had almost forgotten. Ryo had left his Passive Sonar on when he entered the cave, which was how he had sensed the cacodemon. It had given him a feeling he had felt before—but where?

He’d arrived at his answer when he recalled his trek through the Forest of Rondo with Abel. They’d been pincered by an assassin hawk to the front and a greater boa behind. Abel had defeated the latter while Ryo had defeated the former, and they’d escaped unscathed. Before the battle had even begun, though, Ryo’s sonar had detected another monster he’d never felt before, much farther behind the assassin hawk.

Ultimately, they’d never actually seen that monster... However, its aura felt just like the cacodemon’s. Ryo now wondered if they were the same creature. In other words, had there been a cacodemon in the Forest of Rondo? He mentally added another unsolved mystery to his ongoing list.

“Well,” Hugh said, “at the very least, we didn’t stand a chance against her.”

“So that was a cacodemon?” Eto asked.

“The legends don’t mention them glowing or anything of the sort,” Larshata answered, “but if she isn’t a cacodemon... Well, that’s an even more frightening prospect, eh?”

“She flew so far west that we lost sight of her...” Nils said, dazed.

“I only hope she took the insects with her too,” Ryo remarked.

Their objective wasn’t to defeat the cacodemon, but to eliminate the cacodemonic insects infesting the coffee trees.

“We won’t know for sure until we get back to Kona. Let’s get moving, folks.”

At Hugh’s command, the group set off on their journey back to the village.

◆

A week after returning to Lune with a large amount of Kona coffee and French presses as souvenirs, Hugh and the members of Room 10, including Ryo, met at the adventurers’ guild to bid farewell to the Hero’s party.

“Thanks for everythin’,” Hugh said as he shook hands with Roman.

“No, thank you. I learned a lot,” the Hero replied while bowing his head. “If you ever find yourself in the Western Provinces, please visit us.”

“Easy to say but hard to do considerin’ how massive it is.” Hugh smiled wryly.

“Well, the members of our party may go their separate ways after we defeat the demon king, but I will remain as a member of the Western Church. Why not come see me at the very least?” Graham, the negotiator and oldest of the party, suggested.

“Sure. After all, who am I to say no to a bleedin’ archbishop, eh?” Hugh nodded, remembering what he’d learned about the other man during their confrontation against the vampire, Kalinikos.

“Until we defeat the demon king, I am but a humble clergyman,” Graham said, smiling a little.

◆

The rank of archbishop didn’t exist in the temple system of the Central Provinces.

In the Catholic Church, an archbishop is a fairly high-ranking member of the clergy. At the top is the pope, below him are the cardinals, who are followed by the archbishops, and finally, the bishops and priests. Historically, the position of archbishop holds great power.

Of course, Ryo didn’t know exactly what being an archbishop in the Western Provinces entailed, but judging from how Hugh said it, Ryo was fairly certain that it was relatively high up in the Church’s hierarchy.

◆

After seeing the Hero’s party off, Hugh asked Room 10 to accompany him to his office, where they lounged on the sofas. Naturally, cups of Kona coffee steamed on the table in front of them.

“Let’s get right to it. Both the royal family ’n’ the Temple issued a gag order concernin’ this incident. Not a word to anyone. If they find out any of us said anythin’, it’s straight to jail, so be careful.”

They nodded. The involvement of vampires and cacodemons made it easy to see why a gag order had been placed.

“In exchange, I’m happy to tell ya boys the reward for this job went up a fair bit. Consider it hush money. It should already be in yer accounts.”

“Nice!”

This was fantastic news. Even Ryo, who wasn’t exactly a pauper, was delighted to hear it.

“Cacodemons... Vampires...” Hugh said, now alone in his office. “We managed. Somehow... The dungeon’s back to normal after the Great Tidal Bore, so things should be quiet for a while.”

Then he started on his usual mound of paperwork.

◆

“Is it true that Earl Kalinikos Haskill disappeared?”

“Yes, it is. We have confirmed as much using the crystal.”

They occupied a room known as the Study. The room was the size of a school gymnasium, its walls lined with bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. On Earth, it might have been mistaken for one of Europe’s most beautiful libraries. However, because it was a study and not a library, it wasn’t open to the public. The room and its books were only for the owner of this building.

That owner, currently listening to his subordinate’s report, looked to be in his early twenties. He was a seemingly youthful man with abnormally pale skin and a quiet composure you’d expect from someone who had lived through entire epochs...

“Where did he disappear? Which country in the Western Provinces?”

“Actually, he was in the Central Provinces, the southern part of the Kingdom of Knightley, to be precise.”

The man finally looked up from the book he was reading.

“Oh? Troubling news indeed.”

He propped his chin on his hand and thought for a moment. “I want to know the particulars. We must determine if anyone in the Central Provinces knows how to annihilate us. Then again, perhaps someone from the Western Provinces performed the deed...”

“Understood.”

“Make sure the ‘heads’ handle it. If we leave this to the ‘tails’ and something goes wrong, it will be an unmitigated disaster for us.”

After his subordinate bowed and left, the master sighed. “An earl who could wield dark magic, destroyed... Seems our enemy isn’t the gentlemanly sort.”

With a shake of his head, he resumed reading his book.

◆

A certain water magician stepped through the doors of The Golden Wave, an inn in Lune.

“Welcome!” called the proprietress to the familiar guest.

The magician found the person he was searching for in the dining room next to the lobby. There, Abel sat reading a book. The water magician claimed a chair across from him.

“Hey, Ryo. What’s up?” Abel said without looking up.

“Abel... Do you know how trust is formed?”

“That sure didn’t come out of left field, jeez.” He finally looked up, probably because he had no idea where Ryo was going with this conversation.

“Positive experiences. First, you need to establish a successful track record. Once you do, you’ll think things like ‘It’ll be fine if I leave it to him’ or ‘I’m sure it’ll go well if I work with him’ or ‘If he can’t do it, no one else can.’ Then you do it yourself or have someone else do it, and you repeat the experience again and again. And voilà: trust.”

“Riiight...”

Abel nodded along, still with no idea where Ryo was going with this.

“But what about when you lose trust? A negative experience doesn’t destroy trust right away. However, deception is one surefire way to shatter it in an instant.”

“True...”

Though Abel still didn’t understand Ryo’s point, he nodded again in agreement.

“That’s why I want to confirm something with you, Abel.” Ryo paused.

“Wh-What is it?” A hint of unease unfurled inside Abel.

“Abel, you’re wearing an item that repels mind control magic, yes?”

“Yeah.”

It was called a necklace of tranquility, and Abel never took it off. In addition to its resistance to mind control magic, the accessory also negated the harmful effects of poison.

“I heard that it’s on the level of a national treasure. I find it strange that you, a mere B-rank adventurer, own such an object!”

“You say that, but you know damn well that B-ranks are some of the most powerful people in the country,” Abel said, cold sweat trickling down his spine.

“Yet Hugh, a former A-rank, doesn’t possess one.” Ryo smugly pushed his nonexistent glasses up the bridge of his nose, drilling into Abel with all the ruthlessness of a detective who’d cornered a criminal.

“Uhhh...”

Of course, Abel had no idea what that gesture meant.

“I’ve been racking my brain about why a B-rank adventurer would have a national treasure-level item. I thought and I thought and I could only come to one conclusion. Which is...”

Ryo took a deep breath.

Abel braced himself.

“You stole it from the royal vault!”

“I already told you that you couldn’t be more wrong!”

Ryo had lobbied the same accusation at him once before.

“But I can’t think of anything else! For goodness’ sake, you’re a swordsman with a scout’s talent for discovering traps. That’s strange in and of itself, but not if we assume you were originally a thief who stole from treasure houses. It all makes sense!” Ryo’s triumphant expression said, “What do you think about that?!”

Abel was speechless. He had no answer to Ryo’s questions—neither the one he voiced nor the one his expression seemed to ask. But...he was tempted to tell him the truth once and for all. Ryo wouldn’t go around telling everyone about Abel’s real identity, and his attitude wouldn’t change once he knew it.

“Arrrgh... Fine. I’ll tell you the truth, Ryo.”

Grimacing, Abel took a deep breath. Then he slowly raised his head and looked at Ryo.

“My name is Albert. Albert Besford Knightly. I’m the second son of the current king, Stafford IV. I’m currently an adventurer for reasons I won’t get into, but one motive is to get experience. You’re not wrong about this necklace being a national treasure either. It’s a special one that only members of the royal family are allowed to wear. Sooo— Yeah, there you have it.”

Abel looked relieved.

However, Ryo looked unconvinced.

“Abel... If you’re going to lie, at least be good at it. Wasn’t I talking about trust moments ago? Once you lie, you lose it... You really need to listen when others are talking, you know.”

“But I’m not lying...” Abel said, confounded. “The only people who know about my identity are GuilMas and my party mates... Oh, Sera and Phelps too. Those are the only ones, so do me a favor and don’t spread it around.”

“As if. I have no desire to be called a liar, thank you very much.”

“Hey, just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it’s untrue. Ask any of the people I just mentioned. They’ll vouch for me.”

“Ah, so you’ve already bought them, hm? Not an uncommon tactic among unscrupulous individuals.”

“To hell with you!”

Abel had finally resolved to tell Ryo the truth—and Ryo hadn’t believed him.

Interpersonal relationships could be terribly complicated.

Intermission: The Hidden Temple

Nils, Amon, and Eto of Room 10 headed to Acray, the largest southern city in the Kingdom, on a job they’d accepted at Lune’s adventurers’ guild. The client had specifically asked for them, which seldom happened for a party only recently promoted to D-rank. Compared to normal jobs, special ones like these came with better perks like higher pay and a greater degree of contribution to the guild. One designated commission equaled two regular ones, and that in and of itself was enough to fire up the adventurers chosen by the clients.

When they arrived in Acray, they went to the adventurers’ guild. They’d been told during their basic briefing in Lune that they would receive a more detailed explanation there. Since adventurers could be tasked with undertaking their contract immediately, common sense said they should visit their employers before finding lodging.

While a certain water magician existed in Phi who lacked common sense, these three had grown accustomed to the adventuring life now that they had more experience. Only by venturing into the world could you understand the value of common sense...

After presenting the guild receptionist with the letter of introduction from Lune’s guild and their adventurer cards, they were led to a waiting room in the back.

After twenty minutes, a man entered.

“Great seeing you gents again,” he said. “Really appreciate you taking this job on.”

It was Landenbier, the guild master. He had an erudite air about him and an aura that practically screamed he’d been a cleric during his adventuring days.

“Thank you as well for requesting us specifically,” Nils replied.

“I think the last time we saw each other was when you took the job in Kailadi, right? Please, have a seat.”

He was indeed the same Landenbier who had been submaster of Kailadi’s adventurers’ guild. The same man whom Goro, the magistrate of Kona Village, once called the conscience of Kailadi.

After they sat down, a member of the guild staff came in with a tray bearing four cups of black tea. Perfect timing.

“They told you the gist of the job back in Lune, right?”

“Yes, and that you would be able to give us more details.” As the party’s leader, Nils answered him. Thanks to Room 10’s various experiences so far, he’d gotten pretty good at the role.

“Of course. It all started when one of our C-rank parties, Six Flowers, discovered a shrine.”

“Do tell...” Eto murmured.

“It’s recorded as a shrine in the official documents, but the party’s priestess insists it’s a hidden temple. Unfortunately, she’s never seen one herself. We need someone experienced with or knowledgeable about the subject to confirm her theory. Right now, we don’t have anyone in Acray who fits the bill, and it would take too long to summon someone from the royal capital. When I asked Master McGlass for advice, he recommended you three.”

“Got it.” Nils nodded and looked at Eto.

“That makes sense, since we saw a ‘hidden temple’ on the job back in Kailadi...” Eto nodded too.

“Yes, I read your report. The first thing I’d like you to do is visit the village of Ahzone, located half a day from where we believe the hidden temple is. You’ll join Six Flowers, who are already there on another assignment. They’ll lead you to the site.”

“Are you sure we won’t be a nuisance to them, since they’re already working another job?” Eto sounded a bit anxious.

“I know why you’re worried. Nothing an adventurer hates more than someone interfering with their job. But it is not a problem on this occasion because their current assignment is related to the temple. Plus, the guild has upped their reward, so let’s just say they couldn’t be happier to accommodate.”

“That’s good to know.”

Both Nils and Eto gave huge nods of relief.

Two days later, they reached an inn in Ahzone, a large village that had established itself as an important transit point for the supply chain of Acray’s agricultural products. It boasted a wide range of lodgings to accommodate its many residents, most of whom were merchants. One such place was The Moon and Star Inn. Currently, Six Flowers and Room 10 were meeting for the first time in the inn’s lounge.

“I’m the leader of Six Flowers, Bandash. Swordsman.”

“My name is Ash, and I’m a fire magician. These are my younger sisters, Nash, an air magician, and Kash, an earth magician.”

“I’m Terrence, cleric, and this is our shield bearer, Gohrikii.”

Gohrikii inclined his head. He was just as reticent as Warren of Crimson Sword. Perhaps all those who wielded shields were like this?

After the Room 10 trio introduced themselves, Eto added, “It’s nice to see you again, Terrence.”

“Aha! I knew it was you, Eto! How long has it been now? Five years? Don’t be so formal. Remember how you used to treat me like your big sister? You were such a sweet little thing!”

Eto’s face burned beet red. “I think I’m a bit too old for that now...”

Nils, Amon, and Bandash stared at him with curious eyes.

“Um, she took care of me when I first entered the Central Temple...” he explained.

“How old were you then? Ten, I think? Or was it nine? You cried so much being apart from your parents...” Terrence was clearly in a reminiscent mood.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Eto cut her off, voice raised.

Amon’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. This was a side of Eto he rarely got to see.

“I guess anyone would be embarrassed at having others regale people with their childhood stories, huh?” Bandash murmured to Nils.

“Good point,” he replied.

“Anyway,” Terrence said. “I’m glad it was your party that was sent to verify the hidden temple, Eto. Just thinking about explaining everything to people who don’t know much about the concept gives me a headache.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Bandash nodded vigorously. “Let me tell you guys what a nightmare it was the last time we teamed up with a party from Kailadi... Actually, you know what? Forget it. Let’s get back on track. I’m sure the guild master told you the temple is a half day’s walk from here. Well, one of the villagers was nice enough to show us a shortcut, which cuts the one-way trip down to two hours.”

“Wooow.”

Nils, Eto, and Amon couldn’t be happier at the news. They’d save a lot of time now.

“So we were planning on making the trip there now. We’ll be crossing through a forest partway through, but not even lesser boars inhabit it, so I doubt we’ll run into any trouble.”

On the way to the hidden temple, the Room 10 trio questioned Six Flowers in detail about the job.

“Are you saying tons of cows and goats have been disappearing around Ahzone?”

“You got it. Usually, investigation-type requests like this don’t come to the guild, especially because villages don’t want to do anything that costs money. They mostly only come from temples willing to pay. Except this time, His Lordship asked himself,” Bandash explained.

“By that, you mean the village mayor?”

“Technically, he’s the lord of a manor located south of Ahzone. He has a title, but— What was it again? Baron?”

“Yes, Baron Hayward,” Ash, the fire magician, helpfully supplied.

“Right. Him. It’s not like the guild cares who the client is as long as their money is good, huh? Even better when the client is a noble.”

Like Bandash said, they reached the site in two hours.

“I understand now...” Eto murmured after only a few steps past the entrance.

Something resembling an altar, which wouldn’t have been found at a shrine, stood at the front. When he surveyed the nearby area, he saw pieces of broken crystal scattered everywhere.

“Are those—” Amon began.

“Yes,” Eto said with a nod. “Exactly what you think.”

He was referring to the broken orb they’d found in the hidden temple in Nils’s village. The shattered remnants here looked awfully similar. Upon closer inspection of the area around the altar, Eto noticed a carved crest.

“Fire...” he muttered.

“In other words, this hidden temple is dedicated to the element of fire,” Terrence said.

Neither she nor Eto knew why the Central Temple offered rewards for exploring these so-called hidden temples. Until now, they’d never heard of anything being found in any of them. Nevertheless, as adventurers, they were surprisingly pragmatic about the situation.

In other words, they didn’t care so long as they got paid for doing their jobs properly—Terrence especially.

“Well, Ban. Now we know this is, in fact, a hidden temple. A fire one, at that.”

“So we do. Looks like Six Flowers and Room 10 are getting their money,” Bandash replied, elated.

This was what you call a win-win.

Using the same shortcut, the group returned to Ahzone two hours later.

They arrived, however, at a village that looked completely different from the one they’d left four hours earlier.

It had become pure pandemonium.

Dismembered corpses lay scattered everywhere, as if they’d been hacked to bits by a massive, sharp blade. Confusion consumed villagers and merchants alike.

Bandash spotted a fallen guard near the village gate. “What the hell happened here?!”

At the same time, Terrence cast Heal on his wounds.

“Wyverns... It was wyverns!” the man choked out.

“You have got to be kidding...” Bandash said before words failed him.

Everyone was speechless.

As far as monsters went, wyverns were in a league of their own. They constantly deflected attacks with an air magic spell called Wind Defense Membrane. Furthermore, their invisible air magic attacks, such as Air Slash and Sonic Blade, were far more powerful than anything magicians could generate. They were so powerful, in fact, that they could cut multiple bodies into pieces with a single strike.

This meant a great deal of preparation was necessary to defeat these fearsome creatures. A wyvern hunt required at least twenty adventurers, C-rank or higher, with many of those being magicians. No offensive tactics worked on wyverns until they were too exhausted to maintain their Wind Defense Membranes. That meant using a relentless barrage of magical attacks to sap the monsters’ stamina.

The group rushed to the magistrate’s office, a bastion during emergencies in this village. Unfortunately, the building had already been reduced to a pile of rubble.

“How awful...” Ash, the fire magician of Six Flowers and eldest of the sisters, whispered.

“It’s unbelievable how strong a wyvern’s Air Slash is,” said Nash, an air magician and the middle sister.

“The other buildings aren’t destroyed... They must have incurred a wyvern’s wrath by counterattacking...” Kash, earth magician and youngest of the sisters, spoke like she had witnessed the carnage herself. Of the three, she was the most logical.

“Can’t imagine there are any survivors,” Bandash muttered.

Nils nodded in agreement. The building had basically been razed to the ground.

“We may end up fodder if we linger,” Kash murmured.

Right after, they heard a shout from far away.

“More are coming!”

Not five seconds later, a wyvern reached the magistrate’s residence. Its eyes homed in on the group of adventurers. That gaze seemed to say, “Looks like I missed a few.”

“Shit. Everyone, get behind Gohrikii,” Bandash shouted.

Gohrikii braced his giant shield.

The three sisters and Terrence reacted immediately. The Room 10 trio followed suit a moment later, rushing behind Six Flowers’ shield bearer.

Klang.

Something hard had struck the shield.

“That was not powerful enough to be an Air Slash...” Nash whispered.

Except she was wrong. It was, in fact, just that.

“It’s fairly close,” Kash said, peering through the slit in the shield.

“Good point. Wyverns normally fire the spell from a height of fifty meters. That one only seems ten meters or so up in the air?” Ash wondered.

“Why the hell is it so close?” Bandash asked.

“Who knows? Maybe this one can’t unleash Air Slashes over long distances. Or maybe it just likes watching its victim turn into mincemeat up close and personal.”

Whatever the answer, there was no way for them to avoid the attack at such close range. For the moment, they were fine thanks to Gohrikii’s shield wall, but they were fighting a losing battle at this rate.

After a while though, the wyvern flew away. Perhaps it had grown bored. That didn’t change the fact of the destruction all across the village.

“Ten meters, huh?” Bandash murmured. “If only we could fly, we might be able to deal with it.”

At that moment, his gaze landed on Nash, an air magician.

She shook her head repeatedly and said, “You know I can’t fly.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Your eyes certainly did, Ban! Air magicians can’t fly, period! The most a spell can do is make you float, but that’s not real flight! Well, Lord Hilarion supposedly can... Regardless, magicians don’t float or fly on their own!”

Nash’s sisters nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, the Room 10 trio murmured among one another.

“I know she’s right, but I did just think of someone who may be able to fly.”

“Becaaause of his water magic, right?”

“Yup. He’d say something like ‘I have just the perfect spell’ and blast himself into the air with water spouts.”

Ryo had never actually flown in front of them, but they knew if anybody could, it was him. After a while, they heard someone clap their hands.

“I just came up with a brilliant idea,” Bandash said, beaming with confidence.

Terrence sighed. “Ban, you always get like this when we’re in a pinch...”

“Damn it, woman, you’re a priestess,” he replied, exasperated. “You should know better than to knock the wind out of someone’s sails.”

“Why don’t we hear him out first?” Ash interjected, trying to mediate. “Go on, Ban, tell us.”

“Okay, so, we only need to get up to ten meters, right? Since I’m a swordsman, I could kill it with one clean thrust through the eyes. Well, why doesn’t Gohrikii toss me up into the air?!”

“I like it,” Nils said—the only person on board with his plan.

The sisters shook their heads, Terrence sighed, and Gohrikii, the one doing the tossing in this scenario, shook his head a bit with a frown. Eto and Amon did their best to keep a straight face, waiting for someone else to speak up.

“With all due respect, Ban, take a look at yourself,” Ash said, irritated.

Standing at 185 centimeters and weighing in at eighty-five kilograms, Bandash struck an imposing figure. Vanguard swordsmen generally had good builds, and Nils was one of them too. Abel of the Crimson Sword was an exception, since he was fairly lean for the profession.

Gohrikii, the shield bearer, was even bigger. A real giant, he stood over two meters tall and weighed ninety-five kilograms. Still, could a Goliath like him throw Bandash, with his towering physique, ten meters into the air?

No way.

“Shoot... Guess I’m too big, huh?” Bandash said.

Gohrikii shook his head.

“What about me?” Amon said.

He was also a swordsman, but not a large one. At sixteen years old, he measured 170 centimeters tall and weighed sixty kilograms—a boy still growing. He stared hopefully at Gohrikii, who looked him up and down a few times, then nodded.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Bandash said, panicking. He knew the plan hinged on whoever was flying through the air, and what a dangerous role that would be. It was no wonder he was reluctant to give that responsibility to another party’s member—especially a novice swordsman who probably wasn’t even legally an adult yet.

“Please let me do it!” Amon said, radiating determination.

Nils and Eto exchanged glances. Then, they both gave small nods.

“Amon, are you really up for it?” Nils asked quietly.

“Yes,” Amon answered, his expression both calm and spirited.

As the leader of Room 10, Nils turned to Bandash, the leader of Six Flowers.

“Bandash, let him do it,” he said.

“Nils...” Bandash was ready to argue, but the look on the young man’s face stopped him. Nils obviously had complete faith in the boy.

And the reality was, they had no other choice. If time had been on their side, they could have established communication with Acray and requested backup, such as adventurers or knights. Unfortunately, this village didn’t have that long. Neither did they, for that matter.

With the situation steadily going from bad to worse, it might be better to gamble instead.

Bandash made up his mind.

“All right,” he said. “We’re counting on you, Amon.”

◆

“Ideally, you’ll have already flown past by the time it uses Air Slash,” Ash explained. “Even then, there’s a chance it will use another spell.”

“Got it.”

“If my sisters and I use our magics three times in a row, we should be able to negate the power of its Air Slash... It will only work once, though.”

“I appreciate your help,” Amon said politely.

A short distance away, the clerics Terrence and Eto spoke quietly.

“Eto, what do you think? Does this boy, Amon, have a chance?”

“Don’t worry, he can do it,” he replied confidently.

“If he can’t, Nils and I will do everything in our power to stop the wyvern. But I believe in Amon. He has a talent for the sword, and he’s the most courageous of us three.”

“High praise from you, Eto. I suppose I’ll have to place my faith in him too, then.”

Terrence looked at Amon with newfound confidence, but she couldn’t put her complete trust in him.

Still, even though he was only sixteen—not even an adult—Amon seemed oddly calm.

I think I understand now. Maybe we can pull it off.

“It’s coming,” Bandash announced.

Terrence raised her right hand and waited to indicate the timing for their attack. Then, the moment the wyvern came within range, she swung her hand down. She and Eto flung two streaks of light at it. Light Javelin was one of the few offensive light magic spells. Of course, the attack didn’t damage the monster. It merely served as a diversion and provocation. As expected, the wyvern’s hostility toward the group heightened dramatically, and it fired an Air Slash at them.

The three sisters countered the Air Slash with their unique javelins.

“Our turn!” Amon said, leaping toward Gohrikii. The shield bearer snatched his ankles and began rotating like he was doing a hammer throw.

Amon, of course, was the hammer.

One spin. Two. On the third, Gohrikii threw the boy straight toward the wyvern. At that moment...

“Here comes its magic! Amon, dodge!” Nash shouted. The monster’s rapid-fire ability was faster than expected. Being an air magician, she had a keener sense for the wyvern’s generation of magic than the others.

Amon, unfortunately, didn’t hear her scream due to how fast he was soaring through the air. He could, however, see how the invisible Air Slash warped the air as it surged toward him. He unsheathed his sword and slashed.

Whoosh.

That sound told him he’d cut the Air Slash in half.

“Did he just—” Nash muttered in amazement.

Amon flew through the air until he was within striking distance of the wyvern’s head. At that moment, the wyvern closed its eyes.

Earlier, Bandash had told him that stabbing its brain through its eye was the most effective way of killing a wyvern. The same method was used to finish a wyvern after it had been pinned to the ground. Amon had intended to do just that, but the wyvern had closed its eyes.

Normally, wyvern hunters could potentially pierce the monster’s eyelids using Combat Skills after it had exhausted its mana stores. However, that didn’t apply here. Amon couldn’t use those techniques yet and was only barely an above-average swordsman. He risked breaking his weapon if he pushed himself too hard.

He scrambled for ideas. One of a monster’s weak points was its ears. Amon didn’t know if that applied to wyverns, though, so instead...

“The nose!”

In an instant, Amon twisted his body and used his momentum to plunge his blade through the wyvern’s nose and into its head at an angle. As the point of Amon’s sword emerged near the wyvern’s shoulder, the creature convulsed as if struck by lightning. Its eyes widened, then the life quickly drained from them.

And then, it fell.

Amon gave up on trying to reclaim his sword, which had been embedded deep into the wyvern’s brain. Instead, he extracted his arm from its nose and twisted himself above the wyvern. From the air, he watched men run toward the point where the wyvern would soon land. Once Amon knew where he would land, he kicked the wyvern’s huge body and leaped into the air.

Spread-eagle, he went into a free fall. As he rushed toward the ground, he managed to land exactly where he had aimed: right into the cloth the swordsmen and shield bearer had spread to catch his descent.

The Secret Feud in the West

The Kingdom of Knightley could be divided into five regions. The central area included the royal capital and the Crystal Palace and was surrounded by the remaining regions to the north, east, south, and west. The Kingdom bordered the Debuhi Empire to the north, the Handalieu Federation to the east, and several smaller nations to the south and west.

Because the Empire and Federation posed potential threats to the Kingdom, the nobles living on the northern and eastern borders employed powerful knights. In contrast, the militaries in the southern and western parts of the country weren’t as strong. There were a few exceptions, such as Margrave Lune’s and Marquess Heinlein’s knightly orders.

In the west, the first name to come to mind when considering the region’s nobility was the Hope marquessate. The current marquess was Marcus Hagritt, a man in his late fifties who could best be described as “mature” or “in his prime.”

The marquessate itself had been renowned for generations for its soil’s incredible fertility. It supplied much of the foodstuffs to the western part of the Kingdom and the more densely populated central area, which included the royal capital. Recently, commerce in general had flourished, spurring the development of the territory.

The marquess’s manor stood in his domain’s capital, Rozenzi. Currently, he was attending to a guest in his study.

“It has been a while, eh, my lady?”

“So it has, Lord Marcus,” the woman replied.

She was called Ryun, better known as the Matriarch. The marquess used the moniker when the occasion called for it. After all, she was one of the Grand Elders in the Western Forest, which the Kingdom’s elves called home. Moreover, she’d been alive for over two millennia...

“I take it you’re on the journey home from the capital. I heard you unfortunately ran into trouble. A fierce battle at the Enclave, I’m told.”

“Indeed. I feared death was finally coming for me, you know,” she said with a rueful smile.

Marcus and the Matriarch chatted over cups of Kona coffee his staff had served.

“Fortunately,” she continued, “we managed in no small part thanks to Sera. But...the experience made me realize my people needed much more training.”

“Speaking of, she’s residing in Lune at the moment, yes? Working as the sword instructor to the powerful knights there, I’m told. I’d very much like for her to move to Rozenzi to train my own knights,” Lord Marcus said ambiguously. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. He was earnest about wanting to strengthen his knights, but any lord would have said the same...

“While I sympathize, what you seek is impossible.”

“I take it she’s fond of Lune, eh?”

“Well, lately, it is not so much the city itself as a certain young man living there.”

“You don’t say! Should we expect wedding bells in the not-so-distant future for the woman everyone calls ‘Elizabeth’s reincarnation’? I’m sure you must be delighted, my lady.”

Marcus smiled happily. The Hope marquessate bordered the Western Forest, and his family had maintained a good relationship with its people for a very long time. It would be a joyous occasion if Sera, an elf beginning to make a name for herself as an influential person, returned to her homeland with a husband.

The Matriarch tilted her head thoughtfully. “Let us say that I have my reservations. I am uncertain whether he will fit into our society.”

“Oho, is that right?” Lord Marcus looked intrigued.

But instead of satisfying his curiosity, she deliberately changed the subject.

“In any case, the reason for my return has to do with word I received from my people in the Western Forest. Something stirs in the west, something unsettling. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Marcus frowned, nodding. “There are reports of sabotage all over. Clearly a bid to destabilize the region.”

“And the mastermind behind these saboteurs?”

“The Empire,” he said bluntly. “Specifically, the Shadow Regiment, which has infiltrated my territory.”

“Outrageous... The Twentieth Imperial Regiment? The emperor’s secret weapon... But whyever are they here? Those of us in the Kingdom’s west do not even share a border with the Empire.”

“That is very much the question. What makes the situation even more baffling is that General Rancius himself is here.”

“The regiment’s commander? This grows more and more troubling.”

“Indeed, it does. They’re skilled in both subversion and combat. I’ve made a few moves of my own, but it will be some time before I know if they were effective.”

Lord Marcus sighed. His knights were among the best fighting forces in the Kingdom, but his enemy outclassed them. The Twentieth Imperial Regiment specialized in fighting in rugged terrain like forests and urban environments rather than open plains. And now, their commander, General Rancius, had joined the fray himself...

So, though Marcus didn’t know their aims, he knew they were serious.

“I can’t stress enough what a predicament we find ourselves in, my lady,” he muttered with a small shake of his head.

She nodded in commiseration.

◆

Six adventurers from White Brigade rode on horseback along the outskirts of Rozenzi, the capital of the marquessate of Hope.

Hugh McGlass called them the “army of six.” White Brigade, a B-rank party from Lune, consisted of forty adventurers. These six were its most elite: Captain Phelps A. Heinlein, a lancer; Vice Captain Shenna; Blair, the duel wielder; Wyatt, an earth magician; Gideon, a priest; and Lorenzo, the scout.

“Damn,” Blair said. “All this hard riding after we left Acray is tiring me out.”

“Hah, so you say...” Wyatt huffed. “But you’ve still got plenty—plenty of...plenty of energy to spare.”

“Probably because I’ve got a lot more physical training than a magician like you, Wyatt.”

“Ugggh...”

Blair watched Wyatt gasp for breath with pity. He wasn’t making fun of him. He just genuinely felt sorry for how much he was obviously struggling.

Although they weren’t walking, riding a galloping horse required a lot of stamina for the rider. Moreover, if you weren’t used to it, you’d activate muscles you didn’t normally use, which doubled your fatigue... Ergo, magicians and clerics, lacking the stamina of melee classes, tired quickly even on horseback.

“Gideon,” Blair said, “how the hell are you still holding out? Aren’t you supposed to be a priest?”

Gideon should have had as little stamina as Wyatt, but he didn’t seem tired at all. In fact, he might have been faring even better than Blair...

“Because I’ve loved horseback riding since I was young,” he answered with a smile.

“I swear I’ve had it up to here with the three of you. Damn aristos. Hey, wait a second. Wyatt, aren’t you the third son of a baron? Shouldn’t you be an old hand at horse riding?”

“Well, I’ve been...terrible at it...since I was young...”

Apparently, children of nobility came in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and personalities.

◆

Rozenzi, the capital of the marquessate of Hope, had a walled center that served as the nobles’ quarter. Because the rest of the city, where most of the population lived, was unwalled, a recent economic boom had made its population and boundaries swell outward.

The White Brigade entered a home in a Rozenzi suburb that was part of that expanding outer perimeter.

“If the marquess’s household adheres to their regular schedule, we’ll make our move tonight,” Phelps announced.

The others nodded silently. They knew what they had to do.

“We’ll have to wait for Lorenzo to see if there are any changes,” Blair remarked.

“He should be back soon,” Phelps replied with a nod.

At that moment, the door opened and Lorenzo emerged. He handed Phelps a letter. Phelps read it and frowned.

No one said a word the whole time. Not even Blair, who was the chatterbox of the group.

“Change of plan,” Phelps announced. “There’s going to be an attack on the fifth food storehouse tonight. We’ll raid it from the flank.”

All five nodded.

“Captain,” Wyatt asked, puzzled, “isn’t that the one on the city’s outskirts?”

“It is, and the only one as well. The remaining four storehouses are all inside the city walls.”

Rozenzi’s most important parts, such as the marquess’s estate and the nobles’ quarter, were within the city’s central walls. Just outside lay the city’s downtown, its residential area, and surrounding farmland. The fifth food storehouse, however, was much farther from the city center.

“But wouldn’t it be easier for the enemy to target the other four storehouses given their proximity to each other?”

“You’re correct, Wyatt. They must have their reasons. Or perhaps this fifth storehouse is special... If nothing else, our current intel isn’t enough.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Blair interjected. “The fifth one is outside the walls, which makes it vulnerable.”

Wyatt frowned, glanced at him, then shook his head.

“Hey, magician,” Blair snapped, annoyed. “I don’t like your attitude! You got something to say, then say it to my face!”

“Well, the prevailing theory is that swordsmen are simpleminded creatures...”

“The hell we are!”

Klang.

The icy sound wasn’t loud, but the atmosphere changed in an instant.

“S-Sorry,” Blair said quickly.

“I am too,” Wyatt replied.

To whom, you may be wondering.

Well, to Vice Captain Shenna, who silently stared daggers at them. They both knew she’d made the sound in her anger.

Of course, Phelps only smiled. He understood and accepted that each of the six here, including him, had a role to play.

“For now, we’ll provide support to the fifth food storehouse. It looks like it already has enough defenders, so our task will be to track any fleeing assailants back to their hideout. If the enemy is strong, it goes without saying we’ll support the garrison, so be prepared for that as well.”

“Yes, sir!”

◆

At the Twentieth Imperial Regiment’s hideout in the city of Rozenzi, General Rancius scowled at a map of the city. Earlier, his subordinates had trooped in one after another with their reports, but it was quiet now. He had all the information he needed.

“Your Excellency, preparations are complete for the strike on the rations storehouse.”

“You have a difficult task ahead, Gamingam, but I trust you’ll see it through.”

“Yes, my lord!” He bowed sharply. “Thank you for granting me the opportunity to redeem myself!”

“Show me how you’ll atone for your failure in Lune.”

“I won’t disappoint you!”

Gamingam left the room. He would be leading his unit into danger soon. Instead of despair, though, joy filled his face. Once upon a time, in the Kingdom’s southern city of Lune, he and his men had attempted to ambush a swordsman and magician by luring them into the darkness, only to find the tables turned on them. They had managed to escape from prison, but only after suffering the humiliation of being captured, unable to even fight back. That alone was a colossal failure for anyone in the Empire’s Twentieth Regiment.

He should have been reassigned to another regiment, where he would have spent the rest of his life on the roster, rotting away with nothing to do. However, he had been allowed to remain in the Twentieth and lead an assault. Naturally, he couldn’t have been happier—even if the prospect of returning alive was slim...

Later that night, Gamingam and his squad lurked outside Rozenzi’s fifth storehouse.

“Captain, there are too many members of the city garrison lying hidden in wait.”

“Unfortunate. But that doesn’t change what we need to do. Proceed as planned.”

“Yes, sir!”

At Gamingam’s command, the strike squad sprang into action. Its members included people from his unit in Lune, the same ones who’d failed alongside him. Like him, they had also been removed from the front lines as punishment. Like him, they knew they wouldn’t return alive from this mission but still dedicated themselves wholly to it.

Because they valued something more than their lives: the pride of the Twentieth Imperial Regiment. Some believed their pride was foolish. Many others simply didn’t understand it.

Others’ opinions didn’t matter to Gamingam and his team, though. They’d chosen this path themselves.

A little later, flames burst into the sky from the right side of the fifth storehouse.

“We’re under attack!” someone shouted.

The fire and the warning propelled the hidden guards into action. The next moment, flames rose from the left side of the storehouse.

A second shout of warning filled the air.

The attackers had the advantage of choosing when and where to attack. In this instance, their location—the fifth storehouse—had been determined for them, but the area was large and littered with buildings that limited visibility. Most were warehouses, which hemmed the defenders in and prevented them from making full use of their numerical superiority.

To add insult to injury, flames began rising all over the site. The stark contrast between the areas illuminated by firelight and the areas still steeped in shadow confused the defenders’ vision. If it had been completely dark, their eyes would have adjusted accordingly, but the brightness of the flames hampered their ability to do so...

“Ngh!”

“Ugh...”

“So...strong...”

One after another, the members of the city’s garrison were defeated. Most died without knowing where they were even being attacked from. The strike squad proceeded without a care in the world, lighting fires as they went and attacking the guards from behind. As they moved through the darkness, they epitomized the nickname given to the Twentieth: the Shadow Regiment.

Over two hundred soldiers had been stationed at the fifth storehouse, but their numbers were not leveraged properly. Hounded by flames and the enemy, any semblance of a chain of command collapsed. And why wouldn’t it? None of the defenders knew what was happening or where. They had no idea of the scale of the enemy’s numbers. What kind of orders could their commander give in such chaos?

Conversely, Gamingam had an almost perfect grasp on the situation. Everything was going according to plan, and the defenders were in disarray.

That was why he noticed something was wrong a tad too late.

“Why aren’t there new fires?” he muttered. Their plan entailed setting one blaze after another, which was why everyone in the strike squad carried the necessary equipment. A lack of new fires could only mean...

“We’re being hunted,” Gamingam said, grimacing.

Here, in an urban battlefield bathed in shadows and flames, the Twentieth Imperial Regiment should have been right at home. After all, it was their specialty. Yet now the Twentieth’s members were the ones being picked off... Even if he found it hard to believe, there was no other plausible explanation. Whoever was hunting them probably didn’t belong to Rozenzi’s garrison.

“Hired adventures?” he wondered.

“You got it,” a voice said behind him.

Gamingam instantly twisted away, unsheathed his sword, and swung.

The owner of the voice parried his blade with his own.

Klang.

“Captain, you were right. He’s exactly where you said he’d be,” said the man crossing swords with Gamingam. He grinned. “That makes you the commanding officer, huh?”

Of course, he didn’t answer. If they were waiting here already, with the knowledge that they’d find Gamingam lurking in the shadows, there was nothing he could do about it. He also realized that the second he crossed swords with an adventurer who wielded his weapon skillfully he probably wouldn’t win.

I would have liked to have set more fire, created more chaos, bought more time...but what’s done is done. We put on quite a show already, so we should have done our job... Now all that’s left to do is die.

Gamingam smiled faintly.

“Don’t kill him,” a voice said. “We’ll force him to reveal their true goal.”

Gamingam felt like he’d been struck by lightning. True goal... Did the enemy know this was just a diversion? Not good. He needed to die now.

But when he tried to drink his suicide poison, he couldn’t even lift a finger.

“Those’re Shenna’s needles for you...” the man said. “Can’t even blink, can you?”

Understanding dawned on Gamingam: Needles had stopped him from moving.

This is bad. At this rate, they’ll drag the truth out of me about our real target—Marquess Hope.

◆

In the dining hall of his manor, Marcus Hagritt, Marquess Hope, and the Matriarch sipped on after-dinner coffee.

“Where is your son, Cedric? I have yet to see him on this visit.”

“Lad’s sequestered himself in the government office for some time now,” he said with a smile. “It’s located outside the inner walls of the city, as you know, but it’s apparently easier for him to get work done there.”

“By ‘work,’ do you mean the Empire’s sabotage? These are dangerous times.” The Matriarch shook her head.

“They say everything is a new experience. This incident will be good for him.”

“But, Lord Marcus, you are still in your fifties, yes? Too early for you to consider retirement.”

“No, no, nothing like that. I just believe it’s important for him to gain as much experience as possible while he’s young. I must admit the idea has passed through my mind, albeit fleetingly...”

“As one over two thousand years old,” the Matriarch grumbled, “I should be the one thinking of retiring...”

“Begging your pardon, my lady, but you know there’s no point comparing the lifespans of elves and humans.” Marcus smiled wryly.

Then they both frowned.

“Something has just happened, eh?”

“Indeed. A foul air has found its way inside.”

Marcus stood and took down two swords hanging on a wall. He handed one of them to her.

“Lord Marcus, how strong are the forces defending this manor?”

“My butler and the maids are all trained in the martial arts. However...”

“The ones who entered are...”

“Ah, so you sensed it too. Yes, they’re powerful. I have twenty people in my personal guard, but I wonder if they prove enough of a deterrence.”

Four members of his personal guard, standing by in the adjoining room, stepped in.

“My lord, we’re under attack!”

“How many?”

“We’re not certain, but around thirty.”

“Thirty of the Shadow Regiment, hm? That does indeed present a challenge.” Marcus grinned sardonically. Then he paused, as if remembering something. “My lady, this doesn’t involve—”

“Do not presume to tell me to escape now,” the Matriarch said. “It is far too late for that!”

“Nevertheless, I must insist that you do exactly that...”

“I may not be as skilled as Sera, but I can use a sword. I have not lived this long by pure chance.” She paused. “They are after you, Lord Marcus.”

“I won’t deny that.”

“Guards, protect your lord. I shall deal with the intruders.”

The instant she finished speaking, the doors to the dining hall flew open, and two intruders rushed in.

Without hesitation, she charged the two figures. They dropped to the floor in a spray of blood. More entered the room. The Matriarch cut them down too.

Klang.

“Mpf!”

She blocked a powerful slash from the front, but she had to jump backward to soften the force of the blow. At the same time, ten more people slipped into the dining room. A man cloaked in the aura of a mighty warrior stood in the lead.

“So, you would lead your people yourself, General Rancius,” the Matriarch said with care. Buying time until reinforcements arrived was a usual strategy for the defending party.

“I was wondering what sort of virtuoso cut down so many of my men. I see it was an elf... A race one should always be wary of, eh?”

“I shall take that as a compliment.”

After studying her face for a long moment, the general tilted his head, puzzled.

“I thought elves remained forever young, but...” His eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re a Grand Elder?”

“Correct. Unfortunately, you are a little slow on the uptake. Razor Wind.”

The next second, an invisible gust sliced their legs open. The strike force was unable to move. General Rancius was no exception.

Simultaneously, she leaped high into the air, her sword flashing. Several fell, dead, but Rancius and his most experienced squad members calmly opened potions and splashed them on their legs. The wounds instantly healed.

When she saw this, the Matriarch leaped backward again.

“I only managed to defeat five, hm?” She scowled in frustration.

“Five of the Shadow Regiment in such a short amount of time... A Grand Elder’s air magic is too dangerous.” Meanwhile, General Rancius looked bitterly at his fallen subordinates. Even five was greater than anticipated.

“I’ll handle the elf. The rest of you kill Hope.”

“Yes, sir!”

As soon as he gave the order, Rancius charged toward the Matriarch, and their sword fight began.

“Well, well...” she murmured.

“Close-quarters combat is the only option when it comes to elves.” He swung his weapon with a taunting smirk. “At this range, you can use neither a bow nor air magic, that elvish specialty.”

“I cannot refute that.”

She cast a covert glance at Marquess Hope. He and his four bodyguards were holding their own against the four remaining members of the Shadow Regiment. However...

“Are your shadows strong even indoors with obstacles aplenty?” she asked, her frown remaining.

“Of course,” he replied, still smirking.

Although the personal guardsmen had managed to protect the marquess so far, their opponents were steadily wearing them down. Even though they outnumbered the enemy, the skill disparity was insurmountable.

The Matriarch wanted nothing more than to lend her aid using magic, but Rancius refused to give her an opening.

The marquess was already panting heavily. It was clear he would soon reach his limit. Marcus had never been much of a fighter. As the current head of the house, he had trained in the martial arts since childhood. Even if his skill still hadn’t deteriorated, age had eroded his stamina. And now, in his fifties, there was nothing he could do about that.

Finally, it happened. One of the Shadow Regiment’s soldiers managed to inflict a serious wound on Marcus, sending the marquess’s sword flying.

“Ngh!”

“My lord!”

He fell to his knees, but his opponent’s finishing blow was stopped by one of his personal guards, who rammed him with his own body.

The stalemate, which they’d achieved through the skin of their teeth, was completely shattered. Each side’s numbers began dwindling until only the marquess and one of the attackers remained.

Marcus was unable to stand. Without his guards, he could no longer protect himself.

His attacker raised his sword overhead.

At the moment, however, the Matriarch threw her sword. It struck the assailant in the back. Marcus, meanwhile, threw a dagger, burying it in the man’s chest.

“Wh-What...” he muttered, looking down.

Unfortunately, this turn of events created another shift in the balance of power.

Having thrown her sword to protect the marquess, she no longer had a weapon to defend herself. General Rancius wasn’t the type to let such a golden opportunity pass him by. He swung his sword down, slashing diagonally at her back.

“Ungh!” the Matriarch cried, dropping to the ground.

Despite cutting her down, the general’s expression was bitter. “I don’t remember the shadows suffering a loss on this scale.”

The deaths of this many of the Twentieth Imperial Regiment, trained by his hand and touted by the Emperor himself as his personal trump card, was a new experience for him. No wonder he was bitter.

“No matter. Because we’re the ones who will ultimately prevail.”

As if on cue, the door opened and four more figures rushed in. They’d been tasked with gaining control of the manor’s other floors.

“Reinforcements?” the Matriarch groaned. When she looked up, however, she despaired at the sight.

“Marquess Hope,” Rancius said, “you will die for the sake of the Empire.”

Marcus Hagritt, the marquess of Hope, glared silently back at him.

The next moment, the window shattered, and two streaks of light—one white, the other red—darted into the room.

Rancius reflexively jumped back, sword raised. If he had remained calm, he might have finished Marcus off before leaping away, but the sheer pressure and murderous intent radiating from the newcomers had instantly shattered the veteran general’s composure. However, his instincts had saved his life.

The other four members of his unit were slaughtered in an instant. Three were stabbed by a spear, and the last one was pierced through the neck by a sword, his lifeless body sinking to the floor.

The tide had turned.

“Impossible...” he blurted.

With the outcome all but decided just a moment ago, he and his people had dropped their guards. Even so, for all four of them to be defeated in seconds? By two opponents?

In fact, they weren’t even royal guards or knights.

“Adventurers?”

“Right you are, General Rancius. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Phelps A. Heinlein, and this is Shenna. We’re B-rank adventurers from Lune.”

The young man bowed elegantly while the young woman next to him held her sword, alert.

“I’ve heard about you. You’re the eldest son of Marquess Heinlein, the former commander of the Royal Order of Knights. But you should be in the south, not the west. Why are you here?”

“Why? Because we accepted a commission, of course. Directly from His Lordship himself.”

While they conversed, the sound of clashing swords erupted from the corridor outside.

“Your reinforcements?”

“The plan was to surround and capture you, but—”

Before Phelps finished speaking, both General Rancius’s hands jolted, flinging four blurs at Marquess Hope.

Daggers.

Phelps’s spear and Shenna’s sword deflected them all.

At the same time, Rancius ran toward the door, kicked it down, and exited the dining room. Outside, he found what was left of his strike squad battling four adventurers.

“Fall back!”

A cloud of smoke immediately covered the corridor. In the end, they failed to capture him...

◆

Baron Kenneth Hayward, chief researcher, sighed heavily after returning from the Ministry of Domestic Affairs.

Raden, his subordinate and second-in-command at the lab, promptly poured him a cup of black tea.

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” the baron said, taking a seat. He sipped his tea. “Vedra’s development is still suspended this month.” Kenneth sounded frustrated.

“That’s unfortunate...” Raden sighed deeply at the news.

Here at the Royal Center for Alchemy, researchers studied and produced various alchemy tools on various concepts, including Vedra. They never had a shortage of work. Kenneth, a central player at the Center, strongly believed that Vedra’s development was so urgent that the country’s survival hinged on it. While he understood that the royal capital wasn’t fully functional after the mayhem, he also knew that was exactly why they needed to move forward.

The world wasn’t kind. If they had a weak point, their opponents would exploit it... That was just how the Kingdom’s neighbors operated. Although he was a baron, he could do nothing about this. At the end of the day, Kenneth was just a researcher and alchemist...

Suddenly, he looked at the empty seat to his left. The man who used to occupy it had developed many alchemical tools with Kenneth, and they’d even earned the title of genius alchemist alongside one another.

Kenneth was barely still in his twenties, but the other man had already been in his sixties back then. He had admired the man’s achievements and imagination, which rivaled his own, and had looked up to him as a mentor. His fellow alchemist had officially been on staff at the College of Magic, so his placement at the Center had been temporary, but he had still doted on Kenneth. He had always watched over him with kindness in his eyes as Kenneth absorbed knowledge and experience like a sponge, despite being roughly the same age as his grandchildren.

“Has it been two years already, Frank?” he muttered.

Frank de Velde was the name of the man once known as a genius alchemist on par with Kenneth.

Back to the Principality of Inverey

The Principality of Inverey, which had become independent as a result of the Great War, was situated to the south of the Handalieu Federation. Cohn was both a C-rank adventurer and an intelligence operative of the Principality. After he and Ryo had successfully escorted the Monarchy of Joux’s eighth prince, Prince Willie, to the Kingdom of Knightley, he had received orders to go undercover in Jeclaire, the capital of the Handalieu Federation. There, by gathering and analyzing information, he discovered that a new weapon was being developed in the closed city of East. This lead turned into his new directive.

The closed city of East was fifteen kilometers east of Jeclaire. It was under the national government’s direct control, and as the descriptor of “closed city” suggested, only those with special permission could enter. Neither commoners nor nobles were exempt. Despite the difficulty infiltrating such a city, Cohn’s wealth of experience as an adventurer and spy helped him manage this feat.

Today, it looked like he would get his chance to obtain the necessary information from the weapons workshop.

Cohn was deeply troubled. In this world, most weapons were created using alchemy. Both the Kingdom and the Empire were pioneers in the field of alchemy. The Handalieu Federation? Much less so. Once upon a time, as a former vassal state, the Principality of Inverey spearheaded the Federation’s alchemical advancements. Since gaining independence after the Great War, Inverey was now a de facto enemy, leaving alchemical progress in the Federation stagnant.

However, this new weapon would be launched into service very soon. Synthesizing all the information the Principality had collected on its development led to one logical conclusion: This weapon could change the entire course of warfare.

How had the Federation acquired the alchemical techniques to produce such a weapon? Where had such a capable alchemist come from?

These questions stuck in the forefront of Cohn’s mind.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, “I should have my answer soon enough.”

He drove his cart to the entrance of the weapons workshop. Its grounds were surprisingly large for a workshop, probably because it test-fired its designs here as well. Security was tight, with guards doing checks on every new arrival.

“Good to see you again. Koron Breads at your service,” Cohn said, using his alias.

“Hey, Koron. Don’t you ever take a break?”

“I can’t complain. I’m just grateful for the work. I need the money for my father’s medical expenses.”

Cohn lifted the shutter on the back of the wagon for the guards to check his cargo, just like always. He didn’t bring tools while undercover to avoid exposing his real identity, so the rigorous scrutiny didn’t concern him at all.

After spending five minutes opening the boxes and barrels in the back of the wagon, the guards nodded. “Great, everything looks good,” one of them said. “You heading to the first delivery entrance again today?”

“No, I was told to take this shipment to the fifth.”

“The fifth, huh...” the guard said. Both of their attitudes shifted. “In that case, we can’t let you go alone. We’ll escort you. Not like you know where it is, right?”

“You’re right. I appreciate your help. When they told me to go to the fifth service dock yesterday, I was honestly worried I’d get lost or worse.”

He was, of course, lying. Cohn knew exactly where it was. He also knew that the delivery entrance in question, known as Area 5, was only accessible to outsiders if they were accompanied by guards.

“I know how good that bread you make is, Koron, but I’m still amazed they’ve finally let you enter the fifth. I guess congratulations are in order, huh?” the captain of the guards said with a laugh.

Cohn wasn’t responsible for coming up with Koron Breads as a bakery or brand. It was a small but well-regarded bakery established in East twenty years ago and thriving today. In reality, it had been set up and run by Inverey’s intelligence division since the Principality’s days as a vassal state. Never used for overt intelligence operations, it operated under the guise of an ordinary town bakery with no suspicious actors coming and going.

However, this time, a special order came down from Inverey’s intelligence division instructing its operatives to secure specific information using all resources at their disposal. More specifically, they were told to gather information on the new weapon, even if it risked Koron Breads, a base of operations that had remained undetected for twenty years.

Obtaining intel of utmost priority at the cost of so much time and effort... Even Cohn had been shocked at the order, but that just went to show how vital the intelligence was for his country’s survival.

Area 5 was the innermost part of the weapons workshop, isolated from the other four. Only those who had passed a special review and acquired special qualifications could work there.

“It’s always so serious here,” one guard walking in front of his wagon said.

“Yeah,” the other replied. “Even within the workshop, this place is in a class of its own.”

“Is it that special?” Cohn asked.

“It is, so don’t do anything stupid, Koron. Some of the guys we work with use attack magic.”

“What a terrifying prospect.”

Area 5 boasted stone watchtowers about ten meters high. Multiple guards were posted to each one.

I definitely want to avoid getting shot at by any of them.

While following the two guards, Cohn devised an escape route in case of an emergency. After he entered Area 5, specialized guards inspected his merchandise several times. When they finished, they let him through to the fifth loading dock.

“That was an incredibly thorough inspection...”

“Right? Told you this place was something else. There are more guards at the dock ahead, but you can’t go any further. You’ll have to hand over the bread here.”

This was when Cohn’s plan fell apart.

This many damn guards at the service entrance? “Bad” doesn’t even begin to describe this. The only way to get my hands on any intel is by going inside, so...it comes down to luck, huh?

At the fifth service dock, the guards accompanying him performed the necessary procedures and entered with his wagon.

Bloody hell, thirty more of them?

This was unexpected. Cohn had been through the first and second delivery entrances several times before. At most, he’d only ever seen two guards, but there were more than ten times that number at the fifth dock.

“Okay. We’ll unload and carry the goods. You’re the baker, so you tell us what’s in each one we unpack.”

“A-All right,” he replied, and he did as instructed.

Eventually, there were only two left...

“Ah, that small box is a special order for someone named ‘the Doctor.’ That’s what they told me at the first loading dock yesterday...”

The guards’ attitudes changed suddenly.

“Are you sure?” asked a man who seemed to be the captain of these thirty guards. “Did they say anything else?”

“They told me to deliver it to them warm and in person,” he said, glancing around.

Many of the guards shook their heads.

“I thought as much...” the captain muttered.

Maybe...this will work?

Cohn waited, daring to hope.

“We have no choice but to follow the Doctor’s orders. I’ll take you. Men, I need two of you to come with us. Baker, grab that box and follow me.”

Cohn rushed to do the captain’s bidding, picking up the smaller box. It was alchemically designed to include a heat-retaining function. It was the only one of its kind at Koron Breads.

Lady Luck hasn’t abandoned me yet, eh?

Cohn was taken to a room far from the fifth loading dock’s entrance. A sign hung above the door that read “Laboratory 1.” The captain knocked on one of the large double doors and entered without waiting for a response. Cohn, carrying the box, followed suit.

“Doctor, I’ve brought the baker. Begging your pardon, but you know outsiders aren’t allowed in here, so please refrain from making these kinds of unreasonable requests in the future...”

“About time! Come in, come in,” said the middle-aged man known as “the Doctor.”

The captain sighed, as if used to his behavior.

“The special Koron bread I ate in the director’s office yesterday was sublime. Is that a thermal alchemical box? Never mind, the bread first. I must admit, I’ve been salivating just thinking of it.”

The Doctor was probably in his mid-sixties, with long, white hair and matching beard. He wore a white lab coat, but he would’ve looked every inch the fantastical magician with a wand in his hand. Despite being up in years, his eyes glittered with vitality, his back stood ramrod straight, and he exuded a powerful, almost intimidating aura.

But what surprised Cohn even more was the man himself. Though he was a citizen of Inverey, Cohn knew this man’s face and name. He also knew that the man had been an integral pillar of a nation—except he’d been a beacon of Knightley, not the Federation. The Doctor should have been at the Royal Center for Alchemy, an alchemy workshop, or the College of Magic rather than a weapons workshop in Handalieu.

One of the two great alchemists of the Kingdom of Knightley, a genius known by the nickname “the Craftsman.”

Frank de Velde.

“Yes, yes, this is it,” he said. “Transcendent. I ordered three. You have three, don’t you? Excellent! Wonderful! I’ll take the remaining two as well.”

The Doctor, real name Frank de Velde, took the two untouched loaves and put them in an insulated box in the room.

“Fantastic! I feel rejuvenated. Baker, what was the name of your shop again? Koron? I’d like to place an order for tomorrow as well...”

“Doctor, please, not back-to-back,” the captain of the guard interjected.

“Bah, stingy oaf. Rules are rules, I know that, but... Ah, fine, then. The day after tomorrow. The same three loaves as today.”

“V-Very well. Thank you for your patronage,” Cohn said with a nod.

Then, he abruptly looked at the crystal clear window covering the entire wall to his side. Through it, he caught a glimpse of the rest of the room...

That’s...

“All right, baker, time to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

At the captain’s urging, Cohn left the room, the view of the area beyond the window seared into his mind.

◆

Koron Breads was in a back alley of East. It was a popular bakery that put extra effort into its cream and jam buns. Cohn was in its basement right now.

“Cohn, your report.”

The man in front of him was approaching middle age, and the shop’s regulars thought he was the owner. However, because he’d supposedly been in poor health recently, Cohn, his “second son,” was helping manage things there.

“I succeeded in infiltrating Area 5,” Cohn began. “I was taken to one of the labs, and in the back, I saw what appeared to be the weapon in question.” He hesitated. “But...”

“What is it? Tell me. The fate of the country rests on your report.”

The man never raised his voice. He had spent many long years serving his country as a clandestine operative without once buckling beneath the pressure. Perhaps it was that confidence that gave such inexplicable weight to his voice.

“I know, but...this is a new weapon, one we’ve never seen before...” Cohn waffled.

“Hm, I understand what you’re trying to say.” The shopkeeper inclined his head.

“In any case, based on the information I collected and what I saw...” he continued, “the Federation’s new weapon is a golem.”

A silence stretched for some time.

“Did you hear what I said?” Cohn said, losing his patience.

The shopkeeper, lost in thought, flinched.

“Forgive me. I did. You said...golem, didn’t you?”

“That’s right. It was two and a half meters long, about the size of an ogre, with four legs. Its upper body was humanoid, with two arms and a head.”

The shopkeeper groaned in dismay.

No country in the Central Provinces had successfully created an artificial golem. Of course, wild golems existed. They were rare and came in many different shapes. Once, Ryo and Abel had stumbled across one that looked just like a rock on their journey from the Forest of Rondo. There were also other, rarer wild golems that resembled living creatures.

While no examples of artificial golems existed in the Central Provinces, there was an army of them in the Western Provinces known as the “Golem Corps.” Bards and wandering minstrels spread tales of the army, and Cohn was aware of it too. The one he’d seen in Area 5, with its four legs and humanlike upper body, was close to his mental picture of an artificial golem. For this reason, he reported that the new weapon was a golem.

“All right. What is the golem made of? Was there more than one?”

“The base materials? Your guess is as good as mine. From a distance, the surface looked metallic. There were about twenty of them in that lab, so they may have more elsewhere.”

“At least twenty metal golems...” The shopkeeper trailed off.

Rumor had it that one golem from the Western Provinces was as powerful as five B-rank adventurers. If that was true, twenty golems were equivalent to a hundred B-rank adventurers...

“This makes the Federation a superpower, doesn’t it...”

The shopkeeper couldn’t even begin to imagine a scene like Cohn had described, but at the very least, they needed to inform their motherland. Nevertheless, considering the creation of artificial golems had been impossible for any nation in the Central Provinces until now, it would take more than just an ordinary alchemist to achieve such a feat. Especially when Handalieu’s alchemical sophistication wasn’t all that advanced to begin with...

“Who is the primary researcher? Did you see him or her?”

“I did. I’ve seen him before, so I’m sure it’s him. He’s the genius alchemist of the Kingdom of Knightley, Frank de Velde.”

“You can’t be serious...”

The name was a shock, even to the veteran shopkeeper. Frank de Velde was the greatest alchemist of the current generation. Normally, a talent like him would be considered a national treasure and prohibited from leaving the country for the rest of his life. It might be inhumane, but even the Kingdom, quite lenient compared to the Empire, would implement such measures. It was hard to believe that a gifted mind like his was at the center of weapons development in an enemy country.

But it wasn’t the shopkeeper’s job to pass such judgments. That was for his superiors back in Inverey to do. Its Department of Intelligence would have more detailed and comprehensive information than he and the other operatives here.

“Understood. I’ll let the top brass know back home. Well done.”

With that, the shopkeeper began writing a message.

Cohn excused himself. After leaving the basement, he stretched and muttered, “Looks like things will be tough in my adopted home too.”

◆

Four days after Cohn brought back the intel he’d gathered from Area 5, Loris Baggio, sovereign prince of Inverey, listened to a report in his castle in Aberdeen, the capital of the Principality.

“In short, the Federation’s new weapons consist of at least twenty artificial golems made by Frank de Velde?” said Giuseppe Salieri, head of Inverey’s intelligence division.

“That is correct, my lord.”

“Not exactly good news, is it?” Loris remarked with a grimace.

His grim attitude was only natural. First, the Federation surpassed the Principality of Inverey ten times over in military strength. On top of that, these new artificial golems meant Inverey stood zero chance of winning if war broke out...and, in light of how dire the situation already was, it would come as no surprise if the Federation declared war today.

That was why Inverey had asked the Kingdom for reinforcements, but the response had been disappointing. Of course, Loris had been informed of the uprising in the royal capital and understood that it would be difficult to expect aid from the Royal Knights. Even so, the Kingdom’s movements were slower than he’d anticipated.

“We really can’t depend on other nations, eh?” Loris muttered.

Chief Salieri, overhearing him, sympathized with the sentiment.

“There’s nothing Green Storm can’t do,” Salieri stated firmly, referring to the Principality’s defense force.

“I don’t disagree. Gekko procured the magic stones, so I believe we’ll manage, one way or another... But only one of the devices will be operable, yes? Two magic stones are required for it to function, making the whole contraption fuel-intensive. In any case, the question now is where to position it...”

“If it had the mobility of the original design, we could have taken it directly to the battlefield...” Salieri said with a frustrated expression.

“What’s done is done. The Federation worked faster than we predicted. It was inevitable we’d be unable to carry out our plans in time.” With a shake of his head, Loris perused the report again.

“Handalieu has a deployable force of two hundred thousand. Assuming they leave troops at the borders of the Empire and the Kingdom, they will send sixty thousand to our country... Five thousand are knights, two hundred magic corps, and one thousand adventurers, with the rest being conscripted civilians,” the sovereign prince said, reading the contents aloud.

“We have five hundred knights, thirty magic corps, and...one hundred adventurers at most. Even if we gather civilians, we won’t even reach ten thousand...”

They had already come up with a strategy. Their military’s top brass had war-gamed the situation numerous times. Even Loris knew there was no other way. Unfortunately, the likelihood of failure was only marginally better than any other strategy they could devise.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Your Serene Highness, Master Gekko has arrived.”

“Let him through.”

Gekko was a powerful merchant representing the Principality of Inverey, rumored to have been the country’s unofficial Minister of Trade. He also happened to be one of the men that Loris trusted the most.

“Your Serene Highness, you summoned me?”

“I did. Thank you for coming at such short notice. We now have an idea of the Federation’s new weapon. To be blunt, the capital can’t be defended. Once preparations in Fion are complete, I want you to flee at once.”

The sovereign prince’s words were so outrageous that even Gekko, one of the quickest minds in the Principality, took a few seconds to process them.

“Do you mean to say we have no choice but to employ a scorched-earth strategy?”

Scorched-earth policy entailed the defenders drawing the invading army as deep into their territory as possible. As the army retreated, it evacuated and razed cities and villages along the way to strain the enemy’s supply lines. Furthermore, it targeted those supply lines with small skirmishes to prevent supplies from reaching the front lines. Then, once the invading army’s officers and soldiers reached their physical and mental limits, the defending side launched a counterattack to achieve victory.

However, even if they managed to defeat the enemy, its towns and villages would be in ruins, and its citizens’ lives would become extremely difficult. Postwar reconstruction would bring frightening challenges. It was one of the strategies that leaders least preferred to adopt...

But Loris concluded that scorched earth was their only option. Of all the plans presented by his senior military personnel, it was the harshest. As the head of the country with an outstanding intelligence division, Loris Baggio had more detailed knowledge about the Golem Corps of the Western Provinces than the general population. If the person who created the Federation’s artificial golems had been some inconsequential rabble, he might have judged the creations as inferior to the Golem Corps.

However, the creator was Frank de Velde, the man whose achievements created the title of “genius alchemist.” After him came a brilliant young man named Kenneth Hayward, but even then Frank de Velde’s name didn’t fade. In fact, Frank and Kenneth competed with each other, and it was said that their rivalry advanced the Kingdom’s alchemy by twenty years. If such a genius was behind these new weapons, they almost certainly couldn’t be inferior to the Western Provinces’ golems. In other words, Inverey’s military forces would be unable to stop the Federation’s advance into the capital.

His mind made up, Loris had summoned Gekko and ordered him to flee.

“Scorched-earth tactics will be implemented across the whole of Inverey. When that happens, I shall be branded an unfit ruler,” Loris said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Gekko, if we win this war, we will need merchants like you during reconstruction most of all. Our supplies will be depleted, and the people will starve. We’ll need goods from other countries as soon as possible. That is why I want you to flee.”

Loris trusted Gekko and those under his command at his company. The merchant would encourage the young folks to escape to other countries if they hadn’t already. Either way, he was certain they would help with the reconstruction once the fighting ended.

“Your will be done. Fortunately, we have strong ties with the Kingdom, and its status as an agricultural powerhouse will prove a boon. Leave the rebuilding to us,” Gekko said in a voice like steel. He knew those were the words Loris needed to hear.

“Thank you. I have every faith in you.” Loris bowed his head.

After Gekko and Salieri left the room, Loris was alone. Spread out before him was a map featuring the Principality of Inverey and the Handalieu Federation. Staring at it, he murmured quietly but forcefully, “Never again will we be slaves.”

After leaving Loris’s office, Gekko walked quickly out of the castle.

“Master Gekko!”

Max, the captain of his guards, ran up to him as he stepped outside.

“I have terrible news! The children we sent off earlier are...”

◆

That day, Ryo and Sera had lunch at The Fill-Up Station as usual, then headed to the margrave’s estate. They were due for another bout of sparring, which had become a daily routine at this point, at the knights’ training grounds.

When they arrived, however, the chaos that greeted them was anything but usual.

“What happened?” Sera asked a nearby knight.

“Oh, Madam Sera, Master Ryo. We just received news from the royal capital. The Handalieu Federation has declared war on the Principality of Inverey.”

Since both countries bordered Knightley, nobody could rightly say the Kingdom wasn’t involved. Ryo was clearly shaken by the news.

“Ryo?”

Sera had never seen him like this.

“It’s just... I have disciples in Inverey...”

“Disciples?” She was so surprised that all she could do was repeat his words.

“They’re just kids who work for Gekko’s company... Budding merchants, really. I doubt they’ll end up on the battlefield, but if the Federation advances to the capital...”

“Ryo, calm yourself.”

Without another word, she gripped his hands tightly. That alone was enough to calm him.

“Thank you, Sera.”

She released his hands, blushing a little.

“O-Of course.” Her voice came out so small, so quiet, it didn’t reach even one person’s ears.

“It’ll be fine. I know Gekko will keep them away from combat. There’s also a chance he’ll send them to another country... If the boys have been practicing every day, their Ice Walls should be much stronger, which will be perfect for protecting themselves. It’ll be fine. Yes, things will turn out just fine,” Ryo said, trying to convince himself. “Mm-hmm! Everything’s fine!”

“Your Ice Wall...”

Sera had seen it before and knew that even a single layer couldn’t be easily shattered. That said, thinking of budding young merchants attempting to execute the spell was...a bit scary. She decided to keep the thought to herself.

At that moment, Platoon Commander Eden passed by. He’d led a transport unit of knights from Lune to the royal capital just before the turmoil there.

“Eden!”

“Madam Sera, Master Ryo. I trust you heard of the declaration of war?”

“Yes, just now. Do you think the Kingdom’s knights will join the war effort?” She wanted to know what the near future held. A mere knight wouldn’t have any idea, but a platoon commander like Eden might know.

“Honestly? Doubtful. With the Royal Knights in the capital annihilated, it is unlikely that any knights from the Kingdom, including Lune’s, will be taking part...”

“I see...”

Sera glanced at Ryo.

“I’m going,” he said, “even if I have to go alone.”

Ryo had already made his decision. His disciples might be in danger. If he didn’t go and something happened, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

“Ryo, stop and think. The borders will already be closed, making it difficult to leave the country on your own. Chances are good they’ll recruit adventurers and dispatch a volunteer army. The guild will want members willing to work as mercenaries. That is how you’ll be able to cross the border, so I suggest you go to the guild first.”

Sera knew she couldn’t stop him from going to the Principality of Inverey, but she could at least secure a more reliable route.

“That makes a lot of sense. Thank you, Sera. I’ll head there now.”

Just as he was about to spin around and march away, Ryo found himself enveloped in softness. She was hugging him.

“Sera?”

“One never knows what will occur on the battlefield. I’d love nothing more than to join you, but as the knights’ instructor, I can’t abandon my duties. So...be careful. You better return safe and sound. Understood?”

Ryo couldn’t see her expression with her face buried in his shoulder, but he understood the universal sentiment behind her words.

“I will. I promise.” Determination laced his voice.

“Good,” she replied with a nod.

By the time she loosened her arms and stepped away, Sera was already smiling. And just like that, she said, “Good luck.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

Then Ryo left for the adventurers’ guild.

The adventurers’ guild was crowded. The commotion caused by the news of the war declaration peaked when the guild posted a notice of mercenary commissions at the request of the host country. Since adventurers would be sent out as volunteer troops, the job involved serious risk to life, making the reward commensurately high. In Knightley’s case, the Kingdom provided rations for the journey and the battle. Additionally, each person received a daily wage of fifty thousand florins, including hazard pay. However, only adventurers C-rank or higher could accept such work. It was a necessary prerequisite because low-level adventurers would easily die on a battlefield.

Incidentally, Ryo was still a D-rank adventurer.

When he arrived at the guild, the fever pitch caused by the announcement had passed. It remained packed, a large crowd milling in the lobby and adventurers chatting here and there. C-ranks and higher discussed which battlefield they’d be heading to, while D-ranks and below talked wistfully about one day standing on the battlefield themselves and seizing their riches in one fell swoop.

None of the adventurers had qualms about going off to war. Risking their lives was an everyday occurrence, after all. If anything, they felt honored to be there. After all, Lune’s guild master had become a champion during the Great War.

“One day, maybe the same will be true of us!” they said.

Wasn’t it only natural?

Weaving his way through the throng, Ryo reached the counter. There, the receptionists—veterans of many a bureaucratic battle—went about their work, ever the professionals. They did look a bit tired, though.

Ryo came to Nina’s window.

“Nina, I’d like to apply as a mercenary.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked. As an inveterate professional, she knew the rank of every single adventurer in Lune. There, she knew Ryo—

“But you’re a D-rank... Only C-ranks and higher can accept the mercenary commission.”

“No, you can’t be serious...”

This time, it was Ryo’s turn to be speechless. But he wasn’t the type to give up just like that, not with the lives of his disciples at stake—potentially.

“Then please make me C-rank right now.”

“Y-You know that’s impossible...”

Nina had heard the rumors of Ryo’s extraordinary combat prowess. As a receptionist, she was privy to all kinds of stories about adventurers. While she didn’t play favorites, she did wonder why Ryo, usually so carefree, was so desperate. If he’d been an ordinary adventurer, she might’ve guessed money or fame. However, she knew that Ryo had kept a considerable amount of money with the guild. She didn’t know the exact number, but she’d heard that it was enough to lead a life of leisure if he so chose. She also knew that fame meant little to him. Yet for whatever reason, he wouldn’t back down this time...

“I have to go to the Principality of Inverey no matter what. My disciples are in danger.”

His frantic plea finally enlightened Nina. His disciples. That explained his desperation. Even so...

“I’m sorry, but we can’t bend the rules...” she said, helpless.

“I understand. Please let me talk to Hugh.”

Ryo started walking toward the door leading to the offices in the back.

“Ryo, wait!”

He had moved so quickly that he might as well have teleported. She didn’t notice the mist, its particles too fine to get anybody wet, floating behind him. By the time she called out to him, he had already passed through the door.

◆

Hugh McGlass was busier than usual, which meant he was in a foul mood too. It was only natural considering the mercenary notice the Kingdom had put out.

A knock sounded on the door to his office.

“Enter.”

If it had been urgent, his staff would have come in without knocking. Having said that, as far as he knew, he also didn’t have any meetings scheduled with anyone at this time. Puzzled but unable to respond appropriately because he didn’t know who it was, all he could do was let them in.

“Excuse me,” Ryo said, stepping inside.

“Ryo? What’re ya doin’ here, boy?”

“I have a favor to ask you. Please make me a C-rank.”

Hugh frowned. “What?”

◆

“I get why you wanna go, but it just ain’t possible this time,” Hugh answered, looking at Ryo’s guild record. It contained information on the jobs he’d completed, his contributions, and more. After checking it, he had decided that Ryo couldn’t be promoted to C-rank just yet.

“Urk... But I think I’ve done quite a lot to deserve it...”

He knew he had taken relatively few commissions, but he was confident each one contributed a great deal, so he insisted as much.

“I won’t deny that. Ya gotta understand, though, C ain’t an easy rank to get. It’s for truly first-class ’venturers. So many folks don’t even make it to C ’n’ just end up retirin’ as D-ranks. That’s why the rules for gettin’ to C are so strict. Even guild masters don’t have the authority to ignore ’em.”

“Then who does?”

“No one. Not a duke or even His Majesty. Ya just can’t get C or higher unless ya clear the requirements. We just can’t compromise on the number of jobs ’n’ success rate. After becomin’ a D-rank, you hafta successfully complete hundreds of requests, ’n’ have a success rate of over ninety-eight percent. No ifs, ands, or buts,” Hugh stated decisively.

“Darn it...”

At this point, even Ryo knew it would be futile to press.

“I guess I’ll just have to cross the border by force,” he blurted. “Freezing everything should do the trick...”

“Boy, don’t you dare. I’m beggin’ ya,” Hugh scrambled to say.

In the end, Ryo couldn’t rise to C-rank, meaning he couldn’t work as a mercenary. Dejected, he trudged back to the guild’s lobby. Upon his return, he found chaos. Part of it still had to do with the country’s hiring of mercenaries, but now there were adventurers shouting.

“Hurry up! Use a potion or cast Heal!”

“Water! Bring me some water!”

Shifting his gaze to the source of the commotion, he saw an exhausted, well-built man slumped near the entrance, his body covered in wounds. He wore a merchant’s traveling clothes, but his physique and clothes gave him the presence of someone accustomed to risking his life.

The adventurers, sensing a kindred spirit, had extended a helping hand. After multiple casts of Heal by several healers and enough water, the man came to his senses.

“Ryo! I’m looking for a water magician named Ryo! Does anyone know where I can find him?” he shouted.

Every adventurer turned to look at Ryo, who had just returned from the guild master’s office.

“Huh? What in the world? Sherfi? Why are you here?”

The man lying on the ground was Sherfi, a former assassin. If Ryo remembered correctly, he’d changed his ways and now worked for Gekko as one of his bodyguards...

“Ryo, please! Save the children...”

◆

Generally, most carriages in Knightley were drawn by four horses. However, Ryo paid a huge sum to buy the largest, fastest, and most durable carriage available in Lune, which was pulled by six horses. Watching Ryo stolidly put bag after bag of gold coins on the owner’s desk each time he refused to nod made Sherfi sick to his stomach. It wasn’t because of his injuries either. In fact, even the owner looked pale. His brain simply turned off at some point in the transaction...

Now riding the best carriage, Ryo felt the need to hire the best driver too. He didn’t know how to drive, and while Sherfi could, his job was explaining the situation to Ryo as they traveled. Since Ryo didn’t want Sherfi distracted, he decided another cabman was in order.

Ryo had an idea of whom. One of his acquaintances in Lune was one of the best coachmen in the city. Instead of using money to convince him, Ryo shared his honest purpose for the trip. He wanted to help the children, his disciples.

The man nodded in silent agreement.

A little later, he sat in the driver’s seat, holding the reins. The person in question was an adventurer and member of the B-rank party, Crimson Sword, a shield bearer known as Warren the Unyielding.

By the way, Warren’s colleagues—an air magician, priestess, and swordsman—rode in the carriage with them. But there was no need to worry about them...

◆

“Sherfi, can you explain now?” Ryo asked as the carriage reached cruising speed. “In detail.”

“Yes. Gekko told the underage children working at the company to escape to the Kingdom of Knightley. As soon as the Federation declared war, they left the capital of Inverey. They made it to Rednall without incident.”

Sherfi drank a swig of water. His wounds had healed thanks to the multitude of Heals he had received at the guild, but he’d lost a lot of blood and hadn’t fully recovered.

“Rednall?” Ryo repeated, hearing the name for the first time.

“It’s a city on the Principality’s western border, between Redpost in the Kingdom and the Federation’s Zimarino,” Abel, Crimson Sword’s leader, said. Since Rihya and Lyn were talking to each other, he must have gotten lonely.

Ryo, with a heart wider and deeper than the ocean, graciously decided to allow him to join the conversation.

“Go on,” Abel said, glowering. “Say what you’re thinking. I dare you.”

“I see your imagination is as active as ever, Abel. All right, Sherfi, keep talking.”

“R-Right. Well, let’s see... By the time we reached Rednall, the Federation had already locked its borders and dispatched troops to the regions closest to Inverey and Knightley. At the time, their soldiers were deadlocked with the Kingdom’s.”

“Wait, the Federation had closed its borders at that stage?” Abel interjected.

“Yes. Many others besides us tried to escape to the Kingdom but stalled at Rednall. Our group was traveling in four carriages. There were four adults, including me, and twenty children, so we decided against storming the blockade. We discussed moving south the next day. Even though the roads there are bad, the border security wouldn’t have been as severe.”

“Makes sense,” Abel remarked.

“But that night,” Sherfi continued, “Rednall was attacked.”

Ryo groaned. He’d been grimacing the whole time.

“Since it’s a border city, it has high ramparts and a sturdy, well-guarded gate. If reinforcements came from the Kingdom, they would have entered the Principality through Rednall via Redpost, right? So Inverey had to secure Rednall, which is why I think they posted quite a few soldiers there. But by the time we realized something was wrong at our inn, invading Federation soldiers had already destroyed the gates.”

“A traitor or a saboteur must have opened the gate from the inside,” Abel said.

“Likely.” Sherfi nodded. The enemy must have infiltrated Rednall before the war started.

“We fled. The children who could use water magic protected the others with Ice Walls. We fought off endless droves of Federation soldiers and managed to get through. The young ones were well-trained.”

“Of course they are. They’re my disciples,” Ryo said, his expression soft.

“Unfortunately for us, they appeared at the very last moment...” Sherfi lowered his head and breathed evenly, trying to organize his thoughts. “The magician who seemed to be the enemy’s commander smashed through the children’s Ice Walls.”

“What did you—” Ryo’s eyes widened. He was at a loss for words. He knew the kids’ Ice Walls were only a single layer, but he’d taught them. They shouldn’t have broken so easily.

“That’s impossible... Their barriers should have been hard to resist the Combat Skill Total Impalement.”

“I’m well aware. I saw Evans’s Ice Wall block that very technique when Max used it.”

At sixteen, Evans was the oldest of Ryo’s five disciples. Gekko believed he had the potential to become a great merchant in the future, and out of Ryo’s students, he was the quickest learner. As for Max, he was the captain of Gekko’s bodyguards and could be considered Sherfi’s boss.

“Their magician was in a league of his own. He broke through all the children’s ice walls with only his earth magic.”

“I can’t believe it...”

“In my estimation, only two magicians are fit to be called the most powerful—the former leader of the Sect and you, Ryo. That said, I think he’s as strong as you both. That’s why I came all this way to Lune.”

“By leader, you mean Hasan, don’t you? Right, he was also an earth magician.” Ryo nodded, remembering.

The leader of the Sect of Assassins had called himself the reincarnation of Hasan-i Sabbah. He had fought a fierce battle with Ryo but had ultimately been betrayed by his own disciple and lost his life. The man had also excelled in alchemy, with Ryo inheriting his black notebook at his request. However, the contents were too difficult to understand, so Ryo had yet to master them.

“If you think the enemy commander is on Hasan’s level, then it’s no wonder he destroyed the kids’ Ice Walls. Does this mean he defeated you too, Sherfi?”

“No, I was bested by another. A swordsman,” Sherfi replied, stealing a glance at Abel.

“A swordsman?” Abel muttered softly, sensing something amiss.

“He wore a deep blue cloak and had orange hair...”

“No way...”

“He also had a magic sword that glowed red.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me...”

“That earth magician called the swordsman the Flame Emperor.”

“Goddamn it. Flamm Deeproad.”

Silence reigned in the carriage for a while.

Then Abel turned to Ryo and bowed his head deeply.

“Ryo, I’m sorry.”

“Huh? For what?” Ryo cocked his head in confusion.

“We should have finished off the Flame Emperor back then. If we had, we might have been able to prevent this from happening.”

“Ah, that’s what you mean. No, you’re wrong,” Ryo said without hesitation. “None of this is your fault, Abel. The responsibility falls on the earth magician and Deeproad. Sherfi, what happened to you and the kids afterward?”

“Well, I was in bad shape, but just before I fell unconscious, I heard the magician say—” Sherfi paused, uncertain. He glanced at Ryo before quickly averting his gaze. Whatever he wanted to say, he was struggling to get it out. However, he understood he didn’t have a choice.

“There is a high likelihood they were taken.”

“Is there? But why bother? They’re civilians,” Ryo said quizzically.

Taking soldiers as prisoners of war made sense, but what was the point of capturing civilians? Did they intend to use them in negotiations, given their employment in Gekko’s company? Even if so, Ryo couldn’t see why they’d need to negotiate with Gekko specifically.

“Perhaps because those children are magicians.”

“I don’t see the significance of that.”

“‘Well, well. Aren’t these pups a fascinating find?’ That was what he said.”

Krak.

The moment Sherfi spoke, the sound of ice breaking jolted the carriage. In his rage, Ryo had instantly generated ice and shattered it.

“Ryo...” Abel said sympathetically.

“I know. I know, all right? Anger solves nothing right now. I can’t help it.”

He didn’t bother masking his fury. Nevertheless, he knew his friend was right, so he tried his best to suppress it through sheer will. He needed to stay calm.

“I won’t forgive anyone who lays a hand on those kids,” Ryo said in a cold, unfeeling voice. It was like his emotions had been shattered.

Abel felt a chill go up his spine. Only an eerie intensity remained in Ryo’s words. This was a first, even for Abel.

◆

Ryo had previously made the journey from Lune to Redpost as an escort with Gekko’s caravan. It had taken them twelve days. Assuming thirty kilometers a day, the route along the old highway was 360 kilometers long.

This time, he and his friends covered the distance in twelve hours, thanks to Warren’s skillful ability to manage the carriage horses’ fatigue at gallop, Rihya’s light magic, which occasionally relieved the horses’ exhaustion with Heal, and Lyn’s air magic, which created an air barrier with Slide to facilitate the horses’ movements.

“The Crimson Sword has three truly excellent adventurers, doesn’t it?” Ryo said with a pointed glance at Abel.

“What? You saying I’m useless?” Abel snapped.

“Not at all, not at all.” Ryo looked away quickly.

Despite his complaining, Abel was inwardly happy. On the surface, Ryo at least seemed to be feeling better. While anger amplified strength, it worked against intuition, and intuition was also necessary to carry out a mission.

The group entered the best inn at Redpost. They had left Lune at eleven in the morning and arrived at eleven at night. The inns open at such a late hour were either the best or the cheapest. Ryo chose the former without hesitation.

Ryo asked the night manager to take care of the carriage and horses and to arrange rooms for the three people who had worked the hardest during the journey.

“Thank you very much, Warren.”

Ryo bowed politely. He was grateful from the bottom of his heart.

Warren nodded with his usual smile.

“Thank you both as well, Rihya, Lyn. I wish you a pleasant rest tonight in your rooms.”

“Of course, think nothing of it.”

“Good luck, Ryo!”

The two young women encouraged him in their own way.

And then, Ryo, Abel, and Sherfi slipped quietly out of the city of Redpost.

◆

“I think the Federation forces in Zimarino attacked Rednall,” Sherfi explained.

“You’re probably right,” Abel remarked. “Flamm Deeproad used to work for the Grand Duke of Volturino, and Zimarino is in his territory.”

“We should verify the state of the border blockade first,” Ryo said.

So the three of them investigated the Federation forces near the border.

“They’re deployed around Rednall. It feels like an ambush to me. What do you both think?” Ryo said.

“Pretty sure their goal is to strike the Kingdom’s forces once they’ve crossed the border.”

While Abel analyzed and devised a course of action with Ryo, Rednall came into view in the distance.

“Is that smoke?” Abel asked.

“Yes, and a lot of it. It’s coming from the ramparts,” Ryo replied.

“The city gates seem safe at least...” Sherfi trailed off.

They came to the same conclusion.

“Rednall is in Federation hands now.”

“Then the chances are higher of the kids being in Zimarino...”

“I propose we sneak in.”

The three headed for the city in question.

“The problem is, how do we manage that?” Ryo asked.

The Federation was in war mode. Even he knew security in a border city like Zimarino would be extremely tight. In fact, fires burned all around the defensive walls, with soldiers visibly stationed everywhere.

“We have no other choice. Abel, you must lead a solo suicide attack...”

“Screw you.”

“But...”

“Let me guess: You’re going to say self-sacrifice is the most beautiful thing in the world. That argument didn’t work last time, and it won’t now either.”

“I’ll sweeten the deal by giving you permission to kill all the enemy soldiers in Zimarino. No need to hold back! Rampage to your heart’s content!”

“No. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Abel, you’re all talk and no walk.”

“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. Maybe I’ve already lost my mind.”

The return of Ryo’s usual flippancy was a clear sign he’d regained his composure, and Abel was happy about that. Nevertheless, he refused to go along with his friend’s suggestion.

“Fine, be like that. Sherfi, if you need someone to blame, pick Abel.”

“Uhhh—what?” Sherfi had no idea what Ryo meant.

◆

Suddenly, several bonfires that the defenders had lit along the ramparts toppled over. Fires immediately began spreading at an unnatural rate.

“One of the bonfires fell! Hurry and put it out!”

“Why is it spreading so fast?!”

Once the soldiers left to put out the fires, a trio approached the city walls.

“Abrasive Jet 6.”

They entered the city of Zimarino through the hole Ryo bored into the wall.

“Sherfi, I really thought using you as a sacrifice would work to distract the soldiers...”

“Ryo, I’m not certain that’s necessary if our goal is to attract their attention. We just accomplished the same thing by knocking over a few bonfires and letting the flames do the rest.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by your versatility, considering you are a former assassin. I bet you have all sorts of tools and tricks at your disposal, hm?”

“Isn’t it normal to cause a distraction to slip in undetected?”

At Sherfi’s remark, Ryo turned to Abel. “Did you hear that, Abel? Even a former assassin is capable of doing it. Aren’t you embarrassed by your inability to perform such a simple task?”

“Not even a little bit, and that’s mostly ’cuz you’re nuts and nothing you say makes any sense.” After elegantly sidestepping Ryo’s censure, Abel looked at Sherfi. “You sealed the hole he drilled into the wall and made it look like it’d been there all along. Did you use some special tool for that too?”

“Yes, an alchemical one to be exact,” Sherfi replied. “It uses the kind of earth magic our leader excelled in.” He pulled it out from his pocket to show Abel. It was shaped like a permanent marker. A claylike substance used to fill gaps and such oozed out of the tip.

“How convenient. Next time I meet Kenneth, I’ll ask him to mass-produce it. He and I can split the profits fifty-fifty,” Ryo murmured.

His companions ignored him.

The three headed away from the city center. It was Sherfi’s first time in Zimarino, but Ryo and Abel’s second. Like before, it was nighttime, which complicated things.

With Rednall now under Federation control and Zimarino a part of the front lines, its streets were almost vacant. The fact that it was midnight could also have contributed, though...

They arrived at the same tavern they’d visited last time. Abel, Ryo, and Sherfi entered in that order. Although the door was open and they were clearly open for business, no customers were inside.

“Welcome,” the barkeep, polishing cups at the counter, called out.

Last time, they hadn’t been greeted like this when they walked through the door. But maybe he would have paid them the courtesy if it had been empty, like now...

“Well, well. Ain’t ya lads a sight for sore eyes.”

“Guess you remember us, huh?” Abel asked.

“How could I forget Mister Robe’s generosity?”

Ryo smiled shyly.

“I’ll take a beer, then.”

“W-Wine for me, please,” Sherfi added.

“A tankard of milk. And cubed steak!”

Even if gathering intel in a tavern was the goal, it was still good manners to order first. Abel, Sherfi, and Ryo all understand that.

◆

“Pretty empty in here, huh?” Abel commented.

“That’s what happens when war breaks out. Especially with Rednall’s surrender. Even Zimarino’s most optimistic townsfolk wouldn’t go out drinking at night under these circumstances.” The barkeep smiled ruefully and then seemed to remember something. “Right, ain’t ya lads from the Kingdom? Ya sure it’s safe for you to be here?”

“Yeah, we actually got in not too long ago.”

“Ya did? But it’s so late. Actually, ya know what? Never mind. I’m sure ya got yer reasons.” The barkeep had clearly decided the safer option was not to pry. Reining in your curiosity on the job meant lengthening your lifespan.

All three of them had already been served their drinks. The only thing left was the eagerly awaited...

“Here ya go! Yer cubed steak!”

“Yesss! This is it, this is the stuff! Nothing beats meat when a body needs energy!”

Clutching a fork in his right hand and a tankard of milk in his left, Ryo started eating. And it was delicious. The cook happily watched him devour the meal. Even professionals enjoyed watching others enjoy the food they made.

“Barkeep, mind answering some questions?” Abel asked.

“Not at all. Least I can do for ya since that mug of milk costs one large gold coin.”

“Wait, are you serious? One hundred thousand florins for milk?” Sherfi said, his jaw dropping.

The barkeep nodded.

Sherfi then looked at Ryo, who was savoring his cubed steak and milk without a care in the world, in slight horror.

“All right, whatever, I guess... Okay, first question. Are the troops who attacked Rednall stationed here?” Abel asked.

“Yup. The Third Federated Independent Battalion, apparently. I think there’s ’round a thousand of them?”

“Do you know who their leader is?”

“Nope. But I do know he’s in the city garrison’s second barracks, near the east gate. They just built it, and it’s got a pretty big jail. Transferred a ton of prisoners there before handing the whole thing over to the Third Battalion.”

“Got it,” Abel said with a nod. He exchanged pointed glances with Ryo and Sherfi, who nodded back at him. They’d start there.

That was when Ryo noticed something. He looked at the door.

“What is it, Ryo?” Abel asked.

“Someone’s coming. No, not someone. I know who it is.”

“An enemy?”

“No, don’t worry. Definitely not an enemy,” Ryo answered. Considering this was a battlefield, he’d kept his Passive Sonar on since they’d entered Zimarino.

Then the tavern door opened, and two women stepped in. Ryo recognized the flaxen hair and pale blue eyes of the woman in the lead. He also knew the swordswoman flanking her, but there should have been a third woman behind her and, to the left, a magician...

“Lovely to see you again, Red Demon Lord and Crimson Swordsman,” the flaxen-haired woman said, inclining her head.

“Ummm, you must mean Abel by Crimson Swordsman, right? Since his sword glows red. As for Red Demon Lord...” Ryo looked around, realizing no one else fit the bill. “Is that supposed to be me?”

“Correct. That’s how you’re known around these parts. Evidently, those in the Flame Emperor’s command and the members of the city’s garrison are to blame for your...” she said, pausing, “infamy, we’ll call it.”

“I can’t believe my reputation has been damaged by such misinformation. I’m just a humble water magician. Wait, why wouldn’t they call me the Blue Demon Lord?”

“Your issue is with the color, huh?” Abel sounded exasperated.

“Well, you were wearing our organization’s red mask and cloak at the time,” the flaxen-haired woman replied to Ryo.

“Right you are. Did I ever thank you for your help back then? If not, thank you very much.”

Last time they were here, Ryo had borrowed the items of clothing to hide his identity.

By their “organization,” of course, they were referring to The Dawn’s Border.

◆

“This time, my companions were keeping watch over the city and discovered the two of you. They told me you went into a tavern. I thought this must be a divine intervention, so here I am, come to see you.”

“A divine intervention, huh?” Abel repeated.

“Ah, forgive me,” the woman said. “I haven’t even introduced myself.”

“Let me guess. Flora Leggiero Vigi?”

Her eyes widened.

“You’re Grand Duke Volturino’s daughter, right?”

“I am. I’m sure you can imagine my surprise. How did you—”

“You tricked the Flame Emperor last time.”

“Oh, yes... Flamm...” Flora shook her head with a wry smile. “He was under my father’s orders to bring me back, you see.”

“But that’s not the case this time, huh?” Abel didn’t bother beating around the bush.

Flora nodded. “So you’re aware as well. He’s been deployed here, near the border, as part of the Federation forces.”

“Well, we’re looking for him and the earth magician working with him.”

“Now I’m most certainly convinced this was heaven’s will!” Flora exclaimed.

“Guess that means you guys are too,” Abel said, surprised.

“One of my bodyguards, Nala, was taken.” Flora glanced over her shoulder to where the guardian magician should have been standing. “Of course, we attacked, hoping to rescue her, but failed. The Flame Emperor and the earth magician you speak of stood in our way.”

“You know the latter’s name, by any chance?”

“I do. Faust Fanini. Though young, he is the Federation’s most powerful earth magician, who also happens to be an alchemist.”

“A magician and an alchemist...” Ryo muttered with a frown, his mind on his captured disciples.

“We think he kidnapped our—well, technically, Ryo’s—students, so we’re gonna rescue them.”

“I see. But why are they kidnapping magicians like Nala and these students? It makes no sense...”

“No clue, but I bet good money he’s up to no good,” Abel spat, his distaste obvious.

Ryo nodded in vigorous agreement. After all, no one in their right mind would take children by force.

Then the two camps proceeded to hold a joint strategy meeting.

“I’d like The Dawn’s Border to launch a diversion,” Ryo proposed. “Of course, it won’t require everyone in your group. We welcome anyone who’d like to join our raid on the enemy’s base.”

“Understood. Mistress Flora, we’ll have Jigiban and his men create a distraction while the two of us, the twins, and their brother join Ryo and company. What do you say?” asked Kala, Flora’s other bodyguard and swordsman. She was, evidently, also in charge of battle strategy in their group.

“That sounds fine to me,” Flora said.

“However, I suspect only the city garrison will respond to the diversion. I doubt the Federation’s independent battalion will take the bait.”

“I agree,” Ryo said, nodding.

“Knowing that, you’re all right moving forward with this plan?” she pressed.

“We are. Our Abel will be the first to charge into the base.”

Flora and Kala looked at the man in question. Abel didn’t argue, just scowled. He didn’t object like he usually would because Ryo had told him his plan before the joint strategy session.

“While the others draw the enemy’s attention, we’d like you to prioritize freeing any captives, including Nala and the kids. If you can’t find them, take any captives you do find to safety.”

“Got it. Then what will you do, Red Demon Lord?” Kala blinked, realizing her slip of the tongue. “Ryo, I mean.”

Reputational risk was truly frightening.

“If my disciples aren’t in the prison you mentioned, the earth magician must have taken them with him, so we’ll find him instead. Sherfi and I will bring them back,” Ryo said, voice resolute.

Sherfi nodded adamantly.

Of all the people here, Sherfi probably felt the most responsible. Ryo also cared deeply about the children, but his guilt was different from Sherfi’s. If Sherfi had just been stronger, if he had just handled the situation better, the children wouldn’t have been abducted. Perhaps it had been inevitable after the other adults in charge had died, leaving him the only survivor. Ryo and Abel had told him not to blame himself, but Sherfi couldn’t forgive himself...

◆

One of the Flame Emperor’s subordinates knocked on the door to the captain’s office in the garrison’s second barracks. It had been turned into Flamm’s office.

“Sir,” the subordinate said, entering. “I’m here to inform you of a massive fire that’s broken out near the west gate. The city’s guardsmen are on their way to extinguish it.”

“So that is the source of the commotion. Fine. Do what you think is nece—”

The door sprang open again.

“Sir, the barracks are under attack!”

“Calm yourself. Follow protocol and intercept the enemy. How many do they number?”

“One.”

Flamm’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“We have the lone swordsman surrounded, but defeating him has proven impossible. He’s too strong.”

“Very well. I shall deal with him myself.” Flamm stood and grabbed his favored sword. Then he paused, looking at his subordinate. “Is there anything distinctive about him?”

“Red... He possesses a magic blade like yours, my lord.”

“Does he now? Interesting.”

Immediately, an image of a man wielding a magic blade popped into his head—the same man he’d fought a few months prior in this very city. He hadn’t forgotten the humiliation of that day.

And that was no coincidence.

Sure enough, Flamm stepped outside to discover over a hundred of his comrades beaten by a single swordsman, just like his subordinate’s report stated. He wielded a red magic sword, just like the report said—and just like he remembered from months ago...

“Abel, you cur!” Flamm’s face flushed and twisted with rage.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the Flame Emperor himself. You’re late, Your Majesty.”

“What in the hell are you doing here?!”

“To settle things between us once and for all. I thought it was obvious.” Abel didn’t mean a single word coming out of his mouth. If Flamm Deeproad had been in his right mind, he would have realized his opponent was lying.

Actually, even if he had been in his right mind, he probably would have fought Abel even after seeing it for the ruse it was.

Either way, any time these two met, battle was the only option for them...

“You’re free to send as many men as you want,” Abel said coolly. “I don’t mind. Just don’t come crying to me when I take them all down.”

“Listen well!” the Flame Emperor roared. “None of you are to interfere! Even if I am on death’s door. Understood?!”

“Yes, sir!”

His subordinates nodded sharply in response.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You sure about that, man? I won’t go easy on you, ya know.”

“I’ve had enough of your prattle, Abel. You will die by my hand.”

“Oh, yeah? Give it your best shot.”

And so, the curtain rose on the third duel between the Flame Emperor, Flamm Deeproad, and Abel.

Meanwhile, the group of seven, consisting of Ryo, Sherfi, Flora, Kala, and the three siblings—Viviana, Tatiana, and Octavio—arrived at the prison in the second garrison barracks.

“Passive Sonar,” Ryo said, investigating the prison. “As far as I can tell, there are two guards on the other side of the door as well as many others, presumably captives.”

The other six nodded.

“Three, two, one... Icicle Lance.”

He smashed through the door with an incredibly thick spear made of ice. The trio of siblings stormed through simultaneously.

“Gah!”

“Ngh...”

They took down the two lookouts in an instant, took their keys, and went about deftly unlocking the shackles binding the captives’ feet.

The students Ryo was searching for just so happened to be near the entrance. Three of them, in fact.

“Guys, you’re here!”

“Master Ryo!”

“Thank goodness...”

He hugged them tightly, tears spilling from his eyes. His disciples were crying too. They were all overjoyed at the reunion.

A few minutes later, Sherfi returned from the depths of the prison.

“The Dawn’s magician is here and several others as well, including most of the children working for Gekko...”

“What do you mean ‘most’?” Ryo looked confused. Naturally, “most” was unacceptable. He was here to rescue them all.

“Evans and Luce are missing.”

“No, that—” Ryo frowned, at a loss for words. He’d considered the possibility that the kids wouldn’t be in the prison, but... Of his five students, Evans was the oldest at sixteen, and Luce was the youngest at ten. However, the two boys were the quickest learners when it came to magic.

“They were taken away a few hours ago, probably to wherever the earth magician is...” said Rian, one of the three there.

“Taken away? But why?”

“To have their mana drained, I think,” Rian answered tearfully. He must have been recalling what the villains had done to him.

Even if you lost your mana, you would certainly recover it with rest. However, depleting completely led to dizziness and fainting. It wasn’t a good feeling, nor was it something you grew used to with experience. Some people experienced terrible headaches before losing consciousness, so it was obviously something you didn’t want children to go through.

“It must have hurt a lot, huh?” Ryo said before hugging the three boys tightly again. They all sniffled loudly, still crying. But it didn’t take them long to lift their heads in determination.

“Save them, Master.”

“Master, please!”

“We’re fine, honest. Don’t worry about us.”

They begged him even as the tears trailed down their cheeks.

“You know I will. You don’t even have to ask.” Ryo did his best to smile reassuringly at them. “I want you to go with these nice ladies and their friends, all right? They’ll keep you safe while I bring back Evans and Luce. Trust me.”

“Okay,” the three boys replied with a nod.

They clearly wanted to go with him, but they also knew how powerful the earth magician was. They understood they’d only be a hindrance in rescuing their friends. Magic wasn’t the only thing Ryo had taught them...

“There are people on the other side of this door,” Ryo said.

Sherfi nodded. After the five members of The Dawn’s Border took the captured magicians, including the children, to safety, Ryo and Sherfi had made it all the way here.

“Two are sitting in chairs in the center of the room. There’s one adult at the back right... Probably the earth magician we’re seeking. I don’t sense anyone else inside. We follow the plan.”

“Understood.” Sherfi nodded again.

“Three, two, one. Icicle Lance.”

Just like before, an enormous spear of ice smashed through the door. Ryo and Sherfi charged inside at the same time.

“10-Layer Ice Wall.”

Krash, krash, krash, kraaash.

Ryo’s ice wall repelled several stone spears aimed at Sherif.

“Oh? I didn’t expect my attack to be deflected,” said a gray-robed man in the back of the room, surprised. He was currently handling a massive box. “Especially by a—what is that, a transparent wall of ice? Ah, I see now. You must be those children’s teacher?”

“Correct. And you’ll return them all to me,” Ryo said in a voice that brooked no argument.

While they conversed, Sherfi undid Evans’s and Luce’s bindings, then hefted them onto his shoulders.

“The hell I will! Drill.” With that one word, Gray Robe sent dozens of stone spears hurtling toward them all.

“10-Layer Ice Wall Package.”

They caromed off Ryo’s omnidirectional Ice Wall like they were nothing.

“No incantation? Well, aren’t you an unusual magician?” Ryo said nonchalantly.

“I could say the same about you. In the Empire, the Inferno Magician and his people are famous for casting their spells with only trigger words. But you don’t look like an imperial citizen... Are you a man of Inverey? I can’t say I’ve heard of anyone like you from there either, however.”

Since the children working for Gekko’s company were from the Principality of Inverey, the earth magician had incorrectly assumed that Ryo was too because he was their teacher. It went without saying that Ryo had no intention of correcting him.

“A dearth of information is the first step toward defeat, Faust Fanini.”

“So,” he said, “you know my name.”

“Didn’t I just tell you how vital information is? If you can’t even understand that, the Federation is bound to lose this war. Don’t you agree?”

“Fool! All I have to do is kill you right here, right now. There’s no escape for you, not from me.”

“Escape? From you?” Anger flared in Ryo’s eyes then. “Do you think I would even consider running after everything you’ve done to my disciples? Never. Not in a million years!”

“Is that right? Then death it is. Crush.”

In that moment, a huge rock wall descended from the ceiling. Before it hit the floor, Ryo created a cone of ice that split the boulder in half, protecting them.

“Icicle Lance 256.” Switching from defense to offense, Ryo rained 256 spears of ice down on Faust.

“Guard.”

Stone walls appeared in rapid succession above the earth magician, almost automatically—even as they were destroyed.

“If it’s numbers you want, it’s numbers you’ll get! Icicle Lance 256. Icicle Lance 256.”

A flurry of ice spears rushed at him head-on and from above, but Faust blocked Ryo’s attack with rock walls in both directions.

“Do you honestly believe your mana supply will hold under a brute-force attack like this?”

“I’d ask you the same, considering all the rock walls you’ve rebuilt,” Ryo shot back.

Their offense and defense continued unabated.

“Well, I wouldn’t give you mercy even if you begged for it!” he added.

“Perhaps you won’t bore me after all!” Faust taunted.

Ryo cast Icicle Lance and Ice Wall at the same time while Faust used his rock walls to protect himself and assail Ryo and his comrades.

Then, the door behind him opened, and a lone man entered. He had close-cropped silver hair and darkly tanned skin. His green eyes were even more striking than his handsome, sculpted features. The man didn’t look at all surprised by the explosive, magical battle unfolding before him. He strolled elegantly toward Faust, unfurled a piece of paper, and displayed it for the man.

“What is it? I don’t appreciate you interrupting my fun!”

“You’ve just received the highest-priority command.”

Faust read through the document while using his magic.

“Move out at once? That’s complete bollocks! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a fight?!”

“This comes directly from Lord Aubrey himself, so kindly do as it says.”

“You son of a...”

“Or would you rather I kill you right now and take charge of the Third Battalion myself?”

“Goddamn it! Fine! Consider it done. In exchange, you handle that water magician, Odoacer!” With that shot, Faust suddenly stopped using his magic.

“Huh?” Ryo was stunned. He’d watched his opponent argue with the silver-haired man, but he hadn’t expected Faust to cut off his magic just like that—or for him to run through the door the other man had used, his gray robe fluttering. He almost chased after him, but a single shining stone tumbled out of Faust’s clothes and distracted Ryo long enough that he missed his chance.

The silver-haired man turned toward them and threw eight daggers.

“Icicle Lance 8.”

Ryo, of course, blocked them.

Unfortunately, it was a diversion. Before he realized it, the man had closed the gap between them and struck.

Klang!

Ryo parried the blow cleanly with Murasame.

His opponent’s extraordinary green eyes widened in surprise. He obviously hadn’t expected a magician to defend himself with a sword. His surprise lasted only an instant, then he took a huge step backward while flinging more projectiles at Ryo.

Ryo cut them down with Murasame, which turned out to be a mistake. Three of the projectiles were daggers, but the instant his blade sliced through the remaining two, a cloud of smoke exploded outward, obscuring his view.

“Smoke bombs! 10-Layer Ice Wall Package.”

If you couldn’t see your enemy, then you had to protect what’s important to you. For Ryo, that was Evans and Luce in Sherfi’s arms. Everything else came second. Even so, he took proactive measures.

“Squall.”

A sudden downpour blanketed the room, which he expected—from his previous experiences—to chase away the smoke.

“Why isn’t the smoke disappearing? Wait, it is, but more keeps spewing out of the bombs...”

Apparently, these bombs were much more effective than the ones the Sect of Assassins had used.

Ryo decided to wait it out. He guessed that the silver-haired man had made a hasty retreat and thought now wasn’t the time to take risks.

After a minute, most of the smoke had cleared. As he’d suspected, there was no sign of the man.

“Ryo, are we giving chase?”

“No, Sherfi,” he replied with a small shake of his head. Ryo knew he was anything but calm. “The minute I accomplished our objective of rescuing Evans and Luce, I should have gotten us out of here... Instead, I fought that magician. How reckless could I be?”

“Well, he didn’t leave you much choice, did he?”

“The silver-haired man seems a lot more experienced than Gray Robe. He had me dancing in the palm of his hand.”

“His aura reeks, like how I used to be.”

“Wait, are you saying he’s in the Sect?”

“No, but he may be an assassin hired by the Federation or a saboteur...”

“I see.” Nodding, Ryo picked up something from the floor: a glitter magic stone, small and yellow.

“Faust dropped this when he ran.”

“It’s tiny. I’m surprised you even noticed it.”

The magic stone was minuscule, like a stone you’d harvest from monsters like lesser boar or lesser rabbits. Adventurers wouldn’t even bother collecting stones that small.

“I don’t know why he had this, but...this definitely isn’t the time or place to wonder.”

With a shake of his head, Ryo forced his thoughts back to the situation at hand.

“Evans, Luce, you boys were so brave. I’m proud of you.”

Then he hugged his unconscious disciples, relief and regret filling his face. He didn’t regret that he hadn’t been able to protect them himself; he now regretted that he hadn’t taught them more, so they’d be able to handle themselves without him. Ryo shook his head again.

“Let’s leave this city. Sherfi, take them and join The Dawn’s Border. I’ll find Abel, then we’ll head to you.”

◆

The duel between Abel and Flamm Deeproad became intense from the first strike.

The Flame Emperor swung down, and Abel blocked. The previous two skirmishes had started exactly the same way. Since it was their third time facing off, each man knew how the other used his sword, his strength, speed, and technique. They no longer needed to wait and gauge the other’s movements, so it was only natural that they fought with all their might right from the start.

Abel’s role in Ryo’s plan was to lure the Flame Emperor out of the building, and if possible, to soldiers of the other independent battalions too. That meant there was no real need to continue fighting Flamm, but sometimes life didn’t give you a choice.

“Yup, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it,” Abel muttered to himself while fighting. If Ryo saw his expression, he would have definitely said, “Don’t you look happy?”

Of course, Abel himself wasn’t aware. If anything, he thought from the bottom of his heart that his opponent just might have been the most aggravating one he’d ever faced.

“Look, I got a part to play in all this and I’m gonna play it. It is what it is,” he muttered, even if he questioned in his heart of hearts who he was really trying to convince.

They fought fiercely, attacking and defending. Then, suddenly, Abel grimaced as the Flame Emperor thrust three times in quick succession, a move that had been missing from their previous duels.

A swordsman flowed from one strike to another. A downward slash, for example, was never a self-contained attack. Unlike the Edo period of Japan, when the principles of swordsmanship included singular strikes, actual battlefields weren’t limited to two duelists. If you didn’t defeat the enemy in front of you, you’d be defeated yourself, so you first had to do everything in your power to beat them. After that, you moved on to the next one...

Every decision was part of the flow of battle, both individual combat and the entire battlefield. One strike never ended with one strike. It couldn’t.

Deeproad wielded a two-handed sword while Abel’s blade could be used with one or both hands. Thrusting with a two-handed weapon was unique in many ways. Only by considering flow, for example, could you begin to see how truly extraordinary a two-handed thrust was. With a two-handed weapon, a swordsman could connect any diagonal slash, reverse diagonal slash, or horizontal slash with another, similar attack. With a diagonal slash, a swordsman could follow through to their opponent’s feet and then transition into a horizontal slash or a reverse diagonal one, creating several common combos.

But when a swordsman performed a thrust, they fully extended their arms, which meant they then had to retract their limb instead of performing a follow-up attack. In Japan, a technique existed to connect a thrust to a horizontal slash, but it required a swordsman to correctly guess the direction their opponent would dodge and angle their sword the second they finished their thrust. Moreover, it was impossible to put enough force into a horizontal slash with one’s arm fully extended. The technique couldn’t be used in a real fight without a great deal of practice.

Therefore, the only move to combo with a thrust was another thrust... In a way, it made sense—but it was complicated, requiring a great deal of speed to perform in rapid succession...

“Hope you don’t mind my saying so, but these back-to-back thrusts are pretty ballsy, Flame Emperor,” Abel said cuttingly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Flamm Deeproad refused to let his opponent’s sarcasm get a rise out of him.

Damn you for being so calm. Didn’t take you long to get your composure together—and damn you for not fighting like you used to.

Abel had no choice but to acknowledge a frustrating truth: Flamm had grown stronger. He’d been a monster before, and now he was even more skilled...

Abel sighed softly.

Flamm Deeproad, the Flame Emperor, wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed. While he had regained his composure, it only gave him the clarity to realize that Abel had become stronger.

What could he possibly have experienced in just these last few months? Did he escape a life-or-death situation? Did he face a formidable foe? Perhaps. Perhaps...yet that alone doesn’t explain it. Then again... He and I are both swordsmen, constantly risking our lives—yet growth seems to happen all at once. And with it, our perception changes.

Flamm frowned, the wheels of his mind turning while he continued to fight.

A person’s mindset changes when confronted with the existence of a swordsman of monstrous skill. Many are devastated by this reality, knowing they will never attain the same level of skill no matter how hard they try. But a truly strong person stands up when they are knocked down and looks to rise above. There is no logic to the inner workings of the heart. They simply realize that they must do it. I suspect that Abel encountered such a foe. Oh, I envy him.

Then the words flew out of Flamm’s mouth before he could stop them: “You must have either met a monster or witnessed a monstrous battle.”

Abel was momentarily surprised but quickly refocused on their fight. “Yeah, both, actually. I met a monster and saw monsters fighting. With swords and magic.”

He was remembering the battle between Ryo and the akuma, Leonore, on the way back to Lune from the royal capital. After promising not to interfere, he had witnessed a truly inhuman battle. After experiencing something like that with his own eyes...

“I realized I can climb even higher,” Abel explained.

“Oh? Then show me the fruits of your labor.”

“You’re on, Flame Emperor. I’ll drag you up with me.”

Abel had long forgotten his task of keeping the Flame Emperor at bay. It wasn’t a question of good and evil anymore, just a swordsman following his instincts...

On a mission to retrieve Abel, Ryo went to the barracks. When he arrived at the square, however, it wasn’t his friend who greeted him but a group of seven spectators watching Abel and the Flame Emperor duel.

“Hey! Did you just come out of the barracks?”

“You’re not wearing the battalion’s uniform or the city garrison’s, so you aren’t one of us.”

“Which makes you an enemy!”

“Wind, by your will, be the blade that cuts through my enemies. Air Slash,” chanted one of them. They must have been an air magician.

“Icicle Lance.” Ryo countered the spell with his own.

They began muttering aloud in shock.

“What?!”

“D-Did he just negate my attack with an ice spear?”

“Impossible...”

“He’s not wearing the infamous red mask and cloak, but...”

“The Red Demon Lord?”

“My men,” Ryo called out to them, “how I’ve longed to see you!”

It was exactly like something a certain pale blue dictator from a space battle anime would say—except Ryo’s melodramatic, contrived delivery made him sound like a third-rate actor rather than his usual carefree self.

“Damn you!” a nearby swordsman and lancer shouted, lunging at Ryo to close the distance. They knew the power of the Red Demon Lord and his magic. During their last encounter, he’d toyed with them, freezing them like popsicles. They must have thought they could get the drop on him by fighting at close range.

“5-Layer Ice Wall.”

Ryo repelled their sword and spear.

“Next up: Ice Bahn.”

They immediately tumbled backward, slipping and falling on the ice underneath.

“Demon Lord, you dastardly coward!” the swordsman cried out, unable to stand.

“Foolish humans. Don’t you know that being called a coward is the highest form of praise?!”

While Ryo played his part to the hilt and the swordsman and lancer continued sliding around, the four magicians behind them finished chanting.

“Fire Javelin.”

“Sonic Blade.”

“Stone Rain.”

“Twin Sonic.”

All four were offensive spells normally used to suppress an enemy or deny an area, but the magicians concentrated their attacks on Ryo. Moreover, each was the most advanced area of effect spell in its respective elemental category of fire, wind, earth, and air. That same air magician had probably cast Bullet Rain in their last encounter.

In short, no one could deny that the Flame Emperor’s subordinates were outstanding magicians.

Unfortunately, their opponent was Ryo.

“Drizzle.”

Ryo created a mostly transparent shield of high-density water. Because the shield’s water molecules were so closely packed together, it negated incoming magical attacks with bright flashes of annihilation. Drizzle was the refined and renamed version of Revamped Ice Shield No. 2, which Ryo had invented during his battle with Hasan, the leader of the Sect of Assassins.

Naturally, the four magicians couldn’t do anything. When their attacks reached the dense water shield, they vanished.

“Did that seriously just happen?” someone said.

It didn’t matter which magician said it because they were all thinking those exact same words.

While only Ryo understood exactly what had happened, the magicians did know one thing: Their spells had been annihilated by some overwhelming yet incomprehensible magic. If Ryo had used the same spell to counter them as he had before, they might not have been so shocked. At least then they would have understood why their magics had failed.

But this? This was different...

“Eventually,” Ryo muttered to himself, “I hope to use it like a sea mine. Something I can keep deployed for a long time. Ten seconds is simply too short.”

Ryo wasn’t satisfied with the spell. With a maximum duration of ten seconds, it had to be recast every time it was about to dissolve. And that was a serious pain in the neck.

“Ideally, the final version would move with me,” he continued. Since he was talking to himself, he used his normal tone of voice rather than the demon lord affectation.

Every single person—the four magicians, the shield bearer who’d yet to have an impact, the swordsman and lancer slipping on the ice—was stunned into complete silence.

“Oh.” Ryo blinked, suddenly coming to his senses. “I forgot why I even came here. I have to get Abel. Squall. Ice Casket 7.”

Seven pillars of ice once more stood in the city of Zimarino.

“Oh, just so you know, I’m not happy with the whole Red Demon Lord business. As you can see, I’m a water magician. I’d prefer something like Blue Demon Lord, The Water Tyrant, or The Ice Overlord. Please make sure to amend my legend based on those notes,” he said.

Even though they were frozen, they should have been able to hear him through bone conduction. Ryo tapped one of the ice pillars with a satisfied expression. Suddenly remembering that the soldiers of the independent battalion had him, Abel, and the Flame Emperor surrounded, Ryo turned.

“Ice Bahn.”

Needless to say, ice spread across the ground.

Needless to say, soldiers started to slip.

And, needless to say, that stumbling hell engulfed the entire battalion.

Afterward, Ryo noticed one man was left standing—apart from Abel and the Flame Emperor, who continued fighting. That man stood as still as a statue, knowing that any motion at all would make him tumble onto the ice. He must have had an amazing sense of balance and a well-trained core.

Ryo squinted and realized the man had short-cropped silver hair and green eyes.

“Ah, he’s the one who brought information to Gray Robe.”

Before his escape, he’d had Ryo dancing in the palm of his hand. His presence here likely meant he had a message for Flamm Deeproad.

Ryo began approaching the silver-haired man. Alone, he walked slowly through his field of frost, stepping past hundreds of slumped, motionless soldiers who’d given up trying to get back onto their feet. It was quite a poetic sight.

Noticing Ryo’s approach, the silver-haired man immediately drew his sword. He made no further movements. He knew if he shifted his balance even slightly, he would fall. However, if he let the enemy draw closer...

“I mean no harm,” Ryo said, his words echoing in the surrounding quietness. Only the clash of two skilled swordsmen dueling nearby disturbed the hush. All the soldiers lying on the ground didn’t make a peep. It really was like they’d given up on everything...

The silver-haired man seemed to hesitate for a moment, trying to decide how to respond. He ultimately thought better of making any moves. Still, he kept his sword drawn, just in case.

“My goal is to end that sword fight and retrieve my swordsman. I’m sure yours is almost identical, except you want to spirit the Flame Emperor away. Am I wrong?”

The man said nothing.

“All right, I’ll take your silence as a no. Which means there’s no need to fight. I promise that once the swordsman and I leave this city behind, I’ll free everyone. However, I have one condition.”

One of the man’s eyebrows twitched. If he found the condition unacceptable...

“May I have your name?”

The silver-haired man blinked, unable to conceal his surprise. “What?”

“Our assassin—well, former assassin—mentioned you two might be birds of a feather. Said something about being part of the information agency or saboteurs for the Federation. Or was it the intelligence agency? I’m sure you get the gist. So, would you tell me your name? I’m Ryo from the Kingdom of Knightley.”

“So,” the man said under his breath, “royal forces are already here.”

“No, not yet,” Ryo replied, overhearing. “I came here because your friend Gray Robe—Faust, I mean—laid his filthy hands on my disciples. When you people took control of Rednall, he took them prisoner even though they’re civilians. He even drained their mana, which might as well have been torture. For goodness’ sake, Luce is only ten years old!”

Ryo felt his emotions igniting as everything he’d learned came flooding back to him. His fury frightened the soldiers lying on the ground more than the silver-haired man himself. They worried about the misfortune that might befall them if a magician capable of freezing such huge swathes of land turned his wrath on them...

Ryo took a deep breath. “My apologies for losing control there. Now, tell me your name.”

“Odoacer.”

“Thank you, Odoacer. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to say where Faust and the Flame Emperor are going?”

“That information is classified,” he said, his expression stony. “I’m not at liberty to disclose it.”

“I thought as much,” Ryo replied with a shrug. “No problem, though. I’m guessing the battlefield in the Principality of Inverey, right? I’m heading there myself later.”

“What did you say?”

“I mean, it’s only natural after what Faust did to my students.” Ryo chuckled, but his voice was emotionless. “I still have a score to settle.”

Even Odoacer, who didn’t know him at all, understood that his laughter was a product of rage that had already boiled over.

Ryo finally glanced at the two men sword fighting. “Abel,” he called out. “Time to leave.”

He sounded like a parent trying to rein in his bratty child.

“Man, are you serious? Things were just getting good...” Abel replied like said bratty child.

“Well, I’m worried the city guardsmen will show up...aaand there they are.”

The garrison force that had been diverted to the other side of the city suddenly arrived on the far side of the plaza in front of the barracks. They looked shocked by the sight of the battalion soldiers on the ground.

“Ice Bahn.”

At Ryo’s command, the ice spread further, and the newcomers began slipping one after another.

“Sorry, Abel, but this is all your fault.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“If you had wrapped things up sooner, we could have left them in peace.”

“Wrap things up sooner, he says. Hello, did you forget that the Flame Emperor is stupidly powerful?” Abel said.

Ryo just shook his head.

A series of yells erupted out of the garrison force slipping and sliding on Ryo’s ice.

“Shit!”

“What the hell is this? I can’t stay on my feet.”

“Whoa! Gaaah!”

“Wait, I remember this!”

“The last time this happened, I swore to myself I’d never go through it again. But here I am...”

“Yeah, feels just like yesterday, huh...”

Apparently, Ryo’s Ice Bahn had left such an impression on these last three soldiers that they could now reminisce about the previous time they’d had to accept their icy fates.

“What a cruel, unforgiving world,” Ryo murmured—as if the cosmos were responsible for their fate rather than a lone water magician. Were those words even applicable to this situation? Who’s to say...

“Ha, guess I have no choice, huh?” Abel said. Then he deflected the Flame Emperor’s sword aside and leaped backward.

“5-Layer Ice Wall.”

Ryo instantly separated the two men with his ice wall.

Flamm thrust at Abel, undeterred.

Klang.

“Running away with your tail between your legs, Abel?!” Flamm shouted, his attack thwarted.

“Sooo sorry, Flame Emperor. We’ll have to finish this another time.”

With a shrug, Abel strode toward Ryo.

“The next time I see you, I will end you!” Flamm bellowed.

“Sounds good, man. Looking forward to it.” Abel lazily waved goodbye.

“Just so you know,” Ryo said, “even though we’re leaving, I think we’ll be going after these people later.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“Well, I didn’t get to kill Faust, the magician who kidnapped my students. And it just so happens that he’ll be accompanying the Flame Emperor to the main theater of the war. Obviously, I’ll be following so I can crush him.”

“G-Gotcha. All right, for now, why don’t we get outta here, yeah?” Abel suggested, overwhelmed by the intensity radiating from Ryo.

And then, sometime after the two of them left, the ice floor vanished.

◆

Thirty kilometers from the border between the Handalieu Federation and the Principality of Inverey, the Federation’s main force continued its advance south into Inverey. Chancellor Aubrey, the supreme commander of the Federation’s forces, personally led its army. Any expedition with a king or emperor at its head would be called a royal or imperial expedition, but he was neither.

As the name suggests, the Handalieu Federation consisted of many different nations. The Council of Ten, composed of the leaders of the ten core nations, had appointed Lord Aubrey as the Federation’s leader during times of peace and war.

In corporate terms, Lord Aubrey was the president and CEO, while the Council of Ten was the Federation’s shareholders. When he had been appointed ten years ago, the Council held the overwhelming share of power—largely due to their power to choose the Federation’s leader. However, over the last decade, the balance had shifted. Now, no one in the Federation could oppose Lord Aubrey’s authority.

How had Lord Aubrey weakened the Council?

For context, the Council’s members were the kings, grand dukes, and rulers of the constituent nations of the Federation. In the last decade, all but one of those council members had died. Some fell ill, others were killed by ruffians, and others found themselves at the end of a coup d’état. While there was no concrete evidence that Lord Aubrey had been behind these deaths, the new council members refused to defy him. Each one was content to submit to his will so they could maintain their positions at the top of their nations.

In the all-out conflict known as the Great War, which had taken place a decade ago between Handalieu and the Kingdom of Knightley, the Federation had suffered a major defeat. But with a thirty-year-old Lord Aubrey at the head of its army, the Federation had won many smaller battles. He was originally a man of war, not a man of politics.

The world’s great people are always given epithets that match their accomplishments and role, such as “Godking,” “the Genius,” “the Absolute,” “the Flying Dutchman,” or even “the Inferno Magician.”

Lord Aubrey was known simply as “the Tactician.”

“Your Excellency, that is the town of Crewe, which puts us thirty-five kilometers from Inverey’s borders. However, we’ve encountered no organized resistance at all. How could that be?”

“Lamber, the prince is waging a scorched-earth war. He’s determined to win, even if it costs everything. A foolish but terrifying strategy. Did you notice nothing was left in the towns and villages we’ve captured thus far? No people, no food. Nothing. Much to my surprise, he even destroyed the wells.” Lord Aubrey laughed faintly.

The Federation outnumbered the Principality twenty to one in terms of national power and fifteen to one in terms of military strength. Even though it had lost the Great War, the Federation had remained one of the three great regional powers. The Principality couldn’t hold its own against them in a fair fight, so it had to resort to extraordinary measures—such as scorched-earth warfare.

The scorched-earth strategy involved the defenders luring the invading army into its territory, all while attacking their supply lines, tiring them out, and counterattacking when the enemy force reached its limits. However, the huge, unavoidable problem with this strategy was that it required the defenders to allow the invaders to march into their territory. In short, the defenders had to yield much of their land and people to the enemy, even if only temporarily. All food confiscated, homes destroyed, and citizens that the country should have protected now under the enemy’s control, left to suffer a terrible fate...

Victory came at a terrible price... This strategy literally turned a country’s lands into scorched earth to ensure the country’s survival. However, in order to succeed, the defenders needed to do more than simply retreat—they also had to strike the enemy’s supply lines.

In other words, the Principality’s forces would attack the Federation supply lines somewhere between the front line and the Federation homeland...

Lord Aubrey knew it would happen, but where? When? Those were the questions needing answers. He could narrow down the where to areas with terrain suitable for an ambush. If the supply routes were planned well, only a few places would fit the bill.

However, the when was the real problem. The sooner the Principality attacked, the easier it would be to deal with. As more time passed, Lord Aubrey’s forces would become stretched and less alert, meaning more room for error.

How could Lord Aubrey bait them into attacking now? He could order the Federation’s mounted vanguard to advance on Inverey’s capital at a quicker pace. The imminent threat to the capital could spur the prince into attacking their supply units...

While taking the capital didn’t mean the Federation would end the war, a capital city was still the symbol of a country’s power. If the enemy captured it, the Prince of Inverey’s ability to unify his people would crumble rapidly. With morale already low due to his scorched-earth policy, the prince would then have to worry about the fall of the capital further eroding the number of lords and commoners willing to aid the resistance. So, Inverey would want to avoid the loss of its capital for as long as it could. A city capital was a major piece, much like a rook in shogi or a queen in chess, that must be sacrificed only in the endgame. If it was lost in the early game, one’s victory was uncertain.

“The prince has no intention of surrendering, even if his refusal means sacrificing everything. But do the nobility and proletariat possess the same spirit?”

Only Lamber heard Lord Aubrey’s monologue.

◆

In a room in the Principality’s Aberdeen Castle, the head of Inverey’s intelligence division, Giuseppe Salieri, delivered a report.

“Everything we feared is happening,” he said. “The Federation forces are advancing too fast.”

Loris Baggio, sovereign prince, had been frowning throughout. He didn’t allow his other subordinates to see such expressions. Usually, he carried himself with a dignified demeanor that seemed to say, I expected this. Be at ease. But when it was just him and Chief Salieri, whom he’d known for a long time, his true colors came out.

“Damn them... Their vanguard alone equals a third of our entire army...”

“Yes, they’re three thousand strong on horseback, knights and adventurers both,” Salieri said through gritted teeth before reining in his emotions. “Whatever troops the Federation positioned on the border between the Empire and the Kingdom are likely reserves. They’ll surely be sending their elite into this battle. ‘The Federation lives by the sword and spear,’ as the old saying goes. Their soldiers are just as powerful as the Empire’s. We can expect much from this vanguard...”

“I’m well aware. So if things go wrong, our capital could fall to their vanguard’s assault alone? Do I have that right?”

“Yes, my liege. Of course, the Green Storm won’t make it easy for them, but...”

“We don’t know what their weapons are capable of or how durable they are.” Loris sighed deeply, his face in utter anguish. “It seems we have no choice but to move up the timetable of the strike team.”

◆

On a highway in Inverey, twenty kilometers from the border, a Federation supply caravan of fifteen wagons and about sixty people traveled south.

As a hail of arrows and spells suddenly assailed them, the first large-scale battle since the war’s outbreak began.

“Ambush!” a Federation soldier shouted.

“So they’re finally here, huh?” the squadron’s captain said. “Deploy the wind jammers and light signal fires.”

The magicians poured their mana into the alchemical devices on their assigned wagons. Then, a thin membrane of wind unfolded to envelop each wagon. These were the wind jammers.

At the same time, smoke rose from the signal fires across the area, alerting nearby Federation forces that the supply caravan was under attack.

Naturally, the Principality’s strike team saw the smoke signals. They knew they had to raze the supply before Federation reinforcements could arrive. It was a race against time.

“Hurry! Shoot fire arrows. Magic corps, attack the wagons with fire magic,” the strike team captain shouted.

Flaming arrows and fireballs raced toward their targets, but something deflected them before they could reach the wagons.

“What the hell?!”

Baffled, the strike team captain looked at the captain of the magic corps next to him, silently asking for his opinion.

“That looks like a Wind Defense Membrane. It may have been recreated through alchemy.”

A tidal wave of despair washed over the strike team.

Wind Defense Membrane was the spell wyverns used to prevent physical and magical attacks from harming their bodies. Because the monsters maintained them constantly, it was unsurprisingly difficult to defeat them. However, items existed that could generate artificial versions of the Wind Defense Membrane, and those items were considered national treasures. A famous one existed in Whitnash, a city in the Kingdom. But...was there something like that here? If so, all ranged attacks, physical and magical, would be ineffective!

“Damn it. We’ll have to fight them at close quarters, then! We don’t have much time, so take them down fast.” Impatience was beginning to color the captain’s face.

The supply caravan’s wind jammers employed an alchemical technique that created a dome with a radius of five meters. Its surface acted much like a downgraded version of the Wind Defense Membrane.

The creator, of course, was Frank de Velde.

The national treasure in Whitnash could create a Wind Defense Membrane capable of blocking almost all magical attacks and long-range physical attacks as long as the magician continued channeling a small amount of mana into it. The similarities between that item and the wind jammers ended there, however. The “membrane” generated by the jammers lasted for one hour max, and its power was just one-tenth of the original.

Despite being a genius alchemist, Frank de Velde was developing an artificial golem in tandem. It was only natural that the jammers’ performance suffered as a result of how little time he had. However, since no modern alchemist had yet recreated this wind barrier, even at the most inferior level, his ability to so easily replicate the phenomenon could be called extraordinary.

With the wind jammers deployed, the caravan guards stood inside their respective domes. As long as they remained there, they didn’t need to worry about long-range attacks, leaving close-quarters combat the only viable option for the Principality’s strike team.

“Here they come! Focus on defending. If we can buy enough time, victory will be ours.”

Indeed, there was no need to defeat them. While they were distracted, reinforcements would surround and annihilate Inverey’s forces. In fact, the most annoying outcome would be if Inverey’s forces retreated before reinforcements arrived.

For a few seconds after the long-range attacks stopped, the escort captain prayed for Inverey’s strike team to stay and challenge him and his men to close-quarters combat.

Then a battle cry filled the air, answering his prayers. He smiled.

◆

Lamber hurried into Lord Aubrey’s tent. “Your Excellency!”

“What is it? Has Inverey surrendered already?”

“You know very well he would never,” Lamber said, taken aback.

“Well, that’s about the only thing that could shock us now, eh?”

“Right... In any case, I have news. Our supply unit was attacked twenty kilometers from the border. As per the plan, we surrounded and exterminated the enemy’s strike force. Our casualties are two dead and six seriously wounded. Over three hundred dead on the enemy side.”

The corners of Lord Aubrey’s mouth curled a little. “Heh heh heh... I live for the feeling of a plan that’s unfolded exactly as I envisioned. This victory severely limits the moves available to Inverey. He may try to target our supply caravans once or twice more, but that strike force unit was likely the crème de la crème.” Lord Aubrey lowered his voice, speaking only to himself now: “What will you do, Inverey, now that the situation is so much more difficult for you?”

“What do you suppose the prince’s next move is?”

“An excellent question. I can only think of one answer.”

“Request reinforcements from other countries?” Lamber inquired with a thoughtful nod.

“Indeed. More precisely, from the Kingdom. Of course, at the moment, Knightley lacks the capacity to send regular troops, including knights. It stands to reason that they will dispatch a volunteer army of adventurers. The government has already sent a number of them to the border from all over the country. And the force that departed from Lune is led by Master McGlass.”

“Ah, the champion reemerges... Truth be told, I can hardly believe it,” Lamber said with a frown.

Lord Aubrey’s smile only broadened.

“Ninety percent of a battle’s outcome has been decided before either force arrives on the field. Training, assembly, and deployment. Supply lines. Outstanding frontline commanders. That is all there is to it. The battle itself is simply a confirmation of those efforts.”

“It’s hard to take your words at face value. With respect, you turned the tables on the enemy many times during the last Great War...”

Aubrey chuckled at the exasperation in Lamber’s voice. “Well, I certainly can’t deny that outliers like myself exist—or others. Some battles were decided by just a few heroes.”

“I assume you’re referring to Master McGlass and the others?”

After nodding a few times in annoyance, Lord Aubrey murmured, “If the Kingdom’s adventurers are delayed at the border, all they’ll find when they arrive is Inverey’s corpse. The true battle has begun before the fighting even starts... So, Hugh, adventurers, what will you do?”

◆

After rescuing the children from Zimarino, Ryo and the others returned to Redpost, a city on the Kingdom’s border. Having worked with Ryo and his companions to rescue Nala, the bodyguard magician, Flora and the rest of The Dawn’s Border also left Zimarino, heading to another city in the Federation.

“They’re chivalrous thieves who help the weak and crush the strong,” Ryo said about their recently departed allies. Arms folded across his chest, he nodded arrogantly.

“Chivalrous thieves,” Abel repeated skeptically. “Whatever you say, man.”

“Abel, why is it so hard for you to accept the existence of heroic outlaws?” Ryo shook his head disapprovingly.

Abel had been critical of The Dawn’s Border for a long time. “Punishing bad guys should be left to the proper judicial channels, okay? One wrong move and suddenly, we have a lynching on our hands thanks to vigilante justice.”

“We plebs don’t have a choice. The bad guys are connected to powerful people. Chivalrous thieves punish people who try to escape their crimes using the influence of their money. Yes, indeed, all for the sake of us, the oppressed people!” For some reason, Ryo thrust his right fist in the air.

Ryo supported the existence of chivalrous thieves, while Abel opposed them. Different strokes for different folks.

“Well, as long as they don’t drag me into some mess, I don’t particularly care.”

“Aaand the truth comes out.”

“Can you blame me? I have so much on my plate. Anyway, I’m just glad the kids are safe now.”

“Fair enough.”

◆

Back with the kids, Ryo and Abel saw a familiar face.

“Max?” Ryo called out.

Max, captain of Gekko’s bodyguards, immediately walked over and bowed his head deeply.

“I’m so grateful to you for saving the children.”

“Oh, no, think nothing of it,” Ryo replied with a smile. “Any teacher would save his students.”

“But you saved the other children too, not just the water magicians.”

“Well, the kids are all friends, so that was always a given too.”

Not saving children just because they couldn’t use water magic? Out of the question. Ryo would never even think of it.

“Max, the fact that you’re here means Gekko was informed about the kidnapping too, right?”

“That’s right. He told me to round up as many of my men as I could and head straight to the border.”

Ryo nodded emphatically. Gekko, knowing that people were the foundation of a business, cared deeply for his subordinates.

“The kids are fine. Once things calm down a little, I’ll consider sending them to Lune, in the Kingdom’s south. I’ve got people I trust with my life there that’ll look after them.”

“Lune! What an amazing coincidence, because it just so happens that Master Gekko is in the process of opening a branch there. It will act as his hub in the Kingdom.”

“You’re joking...”

“Thanks to the Federation’s invasion, the Principality of Inverey has been utterly decimated. We desperately need supplies from the Kingdom for rebuilding, especially food, since Knightley is an agricultural powerhouse. With that, Gekko decided that having a base there would go a long way toward securing a stable source of resources. The southern region is the most politically stable as well, so the main branch will be in Lune and a secondary one in Acray.”

“I really shouldn’t be surprised. After all, this is Gekko we’re talking about,” Ryo said approvingly.

Gekko’s efforts would obviously do a lot for the Principality’s reconstruction efforts, but it would also increase his profits. A neighboring country’s postwar reconstruction leading to an economic boom was a tale as old as time. However, that economic boom was only temporary.

On Earth, with the conclusion of the First World War in 1918, America became the de facto exporter of goods and services to Europe for its reconstruction efforts, which led to a period of economic prosperity in the US known as the Roaring Twenties. Due to the destruction of its factories everywhere during World War I, Europe needed to rely on America’s imports, including daily necessities. For the US, Europe suddenly became a brand-new marketplace. Throughout the Roaring Twenties, the country couldn’t produce things at the rate it was exporting them—including both general goods as well as machinery for restoring factories and such.

However, once European factories became operational, countries no longer needed to continue importing en masse from the US. Unfortunately, the number of American manufacturing sites had ballooned in a rush to export goods to Europe. The changed circumstances created a surplus of products, productivity, and workers, which made goods plummet in value. Scarcity increases value, thereby increasing the value of money itself. And then the US fell into the Great Depression... That is one aspect of war and its consequences.

Ryo shook his head slightly, forcing his thoughts from Earth’s history back to Phi.

“So is Master Gekko still in Inverey?”

“He is. Since he’s responsible for the country’s commerce, he can’t leave yet. We’re due to return immediately now that we know the children are safe.”

“I see. Well, as I mentioned earlier, they’re fine. If you’re all right with it, I’ll send them to Lune to be placed in my friends’ care. If you relay that to the people at your new base, that would be very helpful.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And that was how Ryo got the process of guaranteeing the kids’ safety started...

Three days after their return from Zimarino, four carriages were prepared to depart the city of Redpost. The children working for Gekko’s company sat inside, the vehicles destined for Lune in the south of the Kingdom.

“All right, everyone, make sure you listen to these nice men and women. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master Ryo.” The children nodded with happy smiles.

It wasn’t just his five disciples calling him that now. Before anyone had known it, the other children they had rescued started addressing him as “Master Ryo” too.

An adult was assigned to each carriage. All but one were adventurers Ryo trusted very much.

“Ryo, is it just my imagination, or am I the odd one out?” Sherfi, the exception, sounded displeased.

“Sherfi, trust can only be built through action. Just do your best.”

“Right... Of...course...” Still unhappy, Sherfi nevertheless nodded in response.

Then Ryo turned toward the three people he trusted and bowed his head.

“Thank you in advance for taking care of the kids.”

“You can count on us,” Rihya replied.

“Yup, don’t you worry,” Lyn said.

Warren nodded silently with a smile.

Ryo entrusted the children to these three members of the Crimson Sword. They were, without a doubt, world-class leaders in the Kingdom.

“Right then, off we go,” Sherfi called out. He was the cabman for the lead carriage.

The children waved to Ryo.

“Master, see you soon!”

“You know it!” he called, waving back. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

◆

“There they go.”

“Yup.”

Ryo stood next to Abel, the only member of Crimson Sword who had stayed behind.

“Abel, are you absolutely certain you don’t want to go back with them?”

“Yeah. You’re stuck with me, pal.”

“I have a score to settle with Gray Robe—Faust—and I will, but there’s no reason for you to go to the battlefield with me, Abel.”

“I think the experience will be good for me. Let’s leave it at that.” Abel scratched his cheek idly.

Though Ryo didn’t want to believe it, he was finally coming to terms with the fact that Abel was the second son of Knightley’s current king, Stafford IV. The elder son and crown prince was a brilliant man, but he had a terribly weak constitution. If he ascended the throne, he would be unfit to lead the army on his own, which was why the monarchy had decided that Abel, as the second prince, would take on the role in his stead.

Abel had engaged in skirmishes and bandit hunting countless times, but never a large-scale battle. Knowing what the future held, he thought it was a good idea to head to the front lines, especially in light of the Kingdom’s intervention.

“The battlefield is unpredictable. Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Which is exactly why I wanna experience it for myself. Considering I’m gonna be sending my people off to war in the future, I’d better understand what I’d be getting them into, right?”

“Your people? You— Ah, so you’re sticking with the ‘king’s second son’ story? Abel, Abel, Abel... Aren’t you too old for fairy tales?” Ryo let out a dramatic sigh and shrugged his shoulders in exasperation.

Abel felt irritated just watching him.

◆

“Hey, Ryo.”

“What? It better not be about money again.”

“You know damn well I’ve never pestered you for money! Wait a second. Haven’t we had this conversation before?”

“You have to reuse bits from time to time. Thinking up new material takes a lot of effort.”

“Bits? Material? Do you think you’re some kind of comedian, Ryo? You know what, don’t answer that.” Abel shook his head, giving up. “Anyway. Last time you went to Inverey, you’d forgotten to withdraw money beforehand, right?”

“I did... I’ll have you know, it’s a sad memory for me. That was what led to the destruction of the assassins’ village. Tragic, very tragic.” Ryo shook his head mournfully.

Abel stared. “An assassins’ village exists?”

“It does. Well, did. In the eastern part of the Kingdom.”

“As in my Kingdom? You’re joking, right?!” Abel’s reaction was the opposite of calm. How else was he supposed to react to the knowledge of an actual village of assassins in his own country?

“You don’t have to sound so scandalized. They have lives to live too, you know.”

“Don’t you even start. You know that’s not the problem.”

“There’s no such thing as status when it comes to a job, so I don’t approve of looking down on assassins just because of their profession.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”

While chatting, they stepped into the inn’s dining room. Since it was still early for lunch, they decided coffee would do for their strategy meeting.

“All right, so... I know we’re heading to the battlefield to snuff the life from Faust’s eyes, but the question remains—how exactly do we accomplish that?”

“Yeah, especially when we have no information on how the war is actually going in Inverey. Hell, we don’t even know which city we should head to first.”

Ryo and Abel both sighed softly and shook their heads.

At that moment, a commotion broke out in the nearby foyer.

“Must be adventurers who answered the call for mercenaries. I know a bunch of them should be gathering from all across the Kingdom.”

“Looks like it. After all, a lot of adventurers, especially those in the vanguard, tend to be the boisterous type, hm?” Ryo looked pointedly at the swordsman across from him.

“Hey, is that a dig at me?” Abel said with a scowl.

“No. Why would you think that?” Ryo averted his eyes quickly.

“Abel, that you?” a voice rang out from the rowdy crowd.

Abel turned. “GuilMas?”

In the center of the noisy group was Hugh McGlass, master of Lune’s adventurers’ guild. Naturally, the people surrounding him were C-rank adventurers of the same institution.

A flurry of excited comments filled the air:

“Oh, hey, it’s Abel!”

“Why am I not surprised to see you at the border first?”

“I believe people’s overestimation of you has reached new heights, Abel,” Ryo said.

Abel scowled. “Yeah, maybe, but listening to you point it out is pissing me off.”

“Ryo, why the hell are you here?” Hugh said, studying them.

“Because I’d like to join the war efforts too,” he answered bluntly.

Hugh shook his head. “I distinctly ’member tellin’ ya in Lune that wasn’t gonna happen.”

Only adventurers ranked C and above could accept the country’s call for mercenaries. As a D-rank, Ryo couldn’t join no matter what he tried.

Ryo frowned, stole a peek at Abel, and glanced at the other C-rank adventurers. He thought for a few moments.

“I’m Warren,” he said solemnly.

Hugh McGlass blinked repeatedly. “Say what now?”

He couldn’t fathom why Ryo would say that, and he wasn’t the only one. The other C-rank adventurers did the same. They were all baffled, just like the sole B-rank adventurer among them: Abel.

Everybody sat in silence for a moment.

“I’m Warren,” Ryo repeated.

“Sorry, but I got no clue what yer on about,” Hugh said earnestly.

Everyone else nodded in silent agreement.

“I’m Warren, the shieldbearer. A member of Crimson Sword and a B-rank adventurer, which is why I can accept the mercenary commission.”

“Ahhh. I think I’m finally pickin’ up what yer puttin’ down.”

“Good, glad to hear it.” Ryo beamed.

“But it don’t change the fact that you’re Ryo, not Warren.”

Ryo frowned at the merciless guild master. “But why?!”

“B’cause yer deliberately misrepresentin’ yerself. Did ya really think I’d let that fly?”

“I see. That’s another way of looking at it.” Ryo promptly accepted the validity of Hugh’s reasoning. “Yes, but” was the basis of negotiating with difficult people. Acceptance first, then argumentation.

“But it’s only one way of looking at it. I’m Warren. Nobody can deny that. Why? Because I insist I am who I say. The only other person who can do so, aside from me, is another person named Warren, should they exist.”

“All right, lad, ya lost me.”

Ryo’s well-reasoned sophistry had failed to reach Hugh.

“In any case, I’m Warren, the shieldbearer. Since I’m a B-rank adventurer, I’m going to war!” Ryo had stubbornly dug in his metaphorical heels.

With a small shake of his head, Hugh looked at Abel. “Where’s the real Warren?”

“I’m Warren!” Ryo was like a dog with a bone.

“Yeah, sure ya are. Abel, let me ask ya again: Where’s your shieldbearer?” Having grown tired of being corrected, Hugh emphasized a different word.

“We actually just sent him off not too long ago. He’s driving one of the carriages holding the kids we rescued. They’re on their way to Lune.”

“Dammit, guess we missed ’em on the road, eh? Hold on. What’s this ’bout rescuin’ kids?”

Abel proceeded to tell him everything: why he and Ryo had come to Redpost in the first place, what had happened, and why Ryo was so hellbent on heading into battle. He neglected to go into great detail about Ryo’s demon lord performance, though...

When Abel got to this part, Ryo sat there with his arms folded, nodding along arrogantly.

“I’ve heard of this Red Demon Lord that supposedly lurks on the border,” murmured Sue, the scout of the C-rank party Switchback. “Wandering minstrels turned the tale into song. So it was about you, hm, Ryo...”

“Slander and misinformation, Sue. I clarified that because I’m a water magician, they should at least call me the Blue Demon Lord!”

“Oh, right... Of course.” Sue’s expression clearly said that he was focusing on the wrong thing, but she wisely kept quiet. When Ryo wasn’t looking, she shook her head in exasperation.

On the other hand, Hugh remained unconvinced. Naturally, as a guild master, he couldn’t overlook such blatant identity fraud by one of his own adventurers. “Look, Ryo,” he said, “I get why yer itchin’ to go to the front lines, but—”

Left with no other choice, Ryo used his final trump card.

“Hugh, may we talk alone, just the two of us?”

Without waiting for Hugh’s answer, Ryo dragged him to a corner of the dining room.

“Spit it out,” Hugh grunted.

“Hugh, Abel is determined to join this war. Be honest. You want to stop him, don’t you?”

“You pullin’ my leg?” The guild master studied Ryo sharply.

“I’m not. And you guessed right. I know who he is. Who he really is.”

“How?”

“Abel told me.”

“Did he now?” Hugh quickly accepted Ryo’s words as true. He knew the two young men had journeyed together from the other side of the Malefic Mountains, overcoming death itself. He knew such an experience could bond them. After all, as a former A-rank adventurer, he was sensitive to life’s nuances.

“If the worst happened to the second prince on the battlefield, it would be a disaster.”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’d rather Abel not go.”

“Abel was determined to, though, because the experience would be good for him.”

Hugh had arrived at the same conclusion when he’d first seen Abel in the inn. He’d been relieved to see the boy absent when he and his entourage left Lune, but he could never have imagined it was because Abel had already gone to Redpost ahead of them!

“I’m Warren. My shield exists to defend the sword that is Abel. If you let me stay by his side, I promise I’ll do everything in my power to protect him.”

“Ya swear on yer life?”

“I do. When Warren, Rihya, and Lyn left to return the children, I promised them the same thing: that I would protect Abel and bring him back to Lune safe and sound. So please let me fulfill my promise.”

“Hmmm...” Hugh lapsed into thought in the face of Ryo’s unwavering determination.

To put it bluntly, his number one priority was Abel’s safety, and he was willing to take any means necessary to ensure it.

“All right... Your name is Ryo Warren, and you’re an—uh, iceshieldbearer.” In the end, he compromised.

“Understood! Thank you very much! I’ll protect Abel, no matter what!” Delighted, he rushed back to the rest of the group and announced, “My name is Ryo Warren!”

A Defensive Battle in Aberdeen

Aberdeen, the capital of the Principality of Inverey, stood at nearly the exact center of the largest flatlands in the country, the Aban Plain. To its east flowed the Doniclus River, boasting one of the largest drainage areas in the Central Provinces. Because its location made it a commercial city first and foremost, it lacked strong fortifications capable of fending off great armies.

And Aberdeen was currently encircled by the Federation’s army. The main force, led by Lord Aubrey, lay to the north, with the remaining forces surrounding it in every other direction. Not even a mouse could escape the siege.

“I’ve returned, my lord,” announced Odoacer, captain of the reconnaissance unit.

“Very good. What of the Third?” Aubrey replied, referring to the Third Federated Independent Battalion.

“In position, as per your orders,” the silver-haired man answered, his expression impassive.

“I doubt you met much resistance from the Flame Emperor, but I assume Faust grumbled aplenty? After all, I didn’t give him much choice about his participation in this war. It’s no doubt his first exposure to the nuisance of having to follow orders.”

Aubrey chuckled. He had anticipated Faust’s reaction, which was why he’d sent Odoacer to enforce his order in the first place. The captain of his scouts held a high rank in the Federation military, which, along with his disposition, allowed him to stand shoulder to shoulder with the generals.

Odoacer inclined his head, silently confirming his theory.

Lord Aubrey, however, caught a flash of something on his face. That look always meant Odoacer had more to say. Sometimes, he’d even point out something that Aubrey himself had overlooked. “Is aught troubling you, Odoacer?” Lord Aubrey asked. “Tell me.”

“Truthfully, they were both engaged in individual combat when I arrived in Zimarino.”

“The Flame Emperor and Faust? They were the only ones fighting?”

“Yes. The rest weren’t in a position to interfere because they were surrounded by ice.” Despite his matter-of-fact tone, Odoacer was actually perplexed. He still wasn’t sure how to go about describing that situation.

“Hm. Hold on a moment... You said they were both in the middle of combat. I thought they were the kind of combatants who killed their opponents instantly, no? So who were they fighting?”

“The one fighting Master Flamm Deeproad identified himself as Abel of The Dawn’s Border.”

“That lot running amok in the Grand Duchy of Volturino, eh? If I recall correctly, they’re led by—”

“Correct, the grand duke’s daughter. Flora Leggiero Vigi.”

“I realize the premier of the Federation shouldn’t say this, but she and her Dawn’s Border are nothing but pests, no?”

Lord Aubrey didn’t take The Dawn’s Border seriously. If anything, the people seemed to scapegoat the group anytime anything went wrong, so the national government saw no need to intervene. Besides, each country in the Federation had the jurisdiction to deal with its own regional problems.

“It is as you say. Nevertheless, this Abel stood on equal footing with Master Deeproad.”

“Surely you jest? Has The Dawn always had such a powerful asset? Frankly, I find this hard to believe... Odoacer, you said Flamm and Faust were fighting. Was Faust’s opponent a member of Dawn’s Border too?”

“Most likely, but Master Faust didn’t catch his name...” Odoacer paused, thinking.

Aubrey had known him for a long time. He’d been the premier’s subordinate since his early days as a mere commanding officer, and it was a rare sight indeed to see Odoacer choose his words so carefully.

“Master Flamm’s subordinates called him the Red Demon Lord.”

“The Red Demon Lord? I’ve heard the rumors, and they’re particularly widespread near the western border. They’re absurd.” Lord Aubrey’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.

None of the rumors about the Red Demon Lord even made sense. An ice wall that repelled Bullet Rain, the most advanced air magic? Impossible.

Unfortunately, Odoacer’s face hadn’t shifted from its grim expression. Although he was usually stoic, and even now his face had changed so little that few people would even notice the difference, Aubrey could read him better than anyone. To Aubrey, his subordinate’s face was practically screaming, Do not underestimate this opponent.

“Did you fight this Red Demon Lord?”

“Only briefly.”

“And that was enough for you to determine he’s dangerous.”

“Yes.”

That one word surprised Lord Aubrey. As the captain of the reconnaissance unit, Odoacer was a professional scout. Nevertheless, he could also lead troops in battle, analyze the flow of a battle on a tactical level, and even manage the grand strategy of their forces. Not to mention his terrifying skill in close combat.

Excluding Aubrey, he was the closest to the perfect commander in the entire Federation military. Considering his mastery of the martial arts, Odoacer might even have surpassed Aubrey himself.

That was exactly why the premier normally stationed him on the border between the Federation and the Empire. The terrain on the frontier between the two nations was impassable by large armies but not entirely impossible to navigate. Throughout history, the side capable of maneuvering a large force through seemingly impassable terrain has always emerged victorious. Captain Odoacer oversaw this border region, which had a military force vastly outnumbering the Federation’s.

Aubrey’s trust in Odoacer was absolute. If he believed this mysterious man posed a threat, he couldn’t and wouldn’t ignore it.

“Very well. Once this war is over, you have my permission to conduct a thorough investigation into The Dawn’s Border. That includes both the Red Demon Lord and Abel.”

“Thank you very much, my lord.” Odoacer bowed his head deeply.

◆

“Your Excellency, twenty hours have passed since we issued the declaration to surrender,” reported General Lucien, commander of the Federation’s central army. “Despite the deadline lapsing, there has been no response from the other party.”

General Lucien was one of the select few trained by Lord Aubrey himself; he’d also accompanied the premier in several battles, making him a seasoned officer. His report was an unspoken request for Aubrey’s permission to attack.

“I expected as much. Fine. Do what you must,” Aubrey said. Lucien and the other commanders would take it from here, using their best judgment in the field.

Sometimes, I, too, ache to return...

A wave of nostalgia hit him at the thought of the front lines... Originally a soldier, he felt a sense of homecoming every time he stepped onto a battlefield. In a way, he could be considered a battle-crazed maniac.

So began The Federation’s offensive.

To ensure they could maintain control of the capital after it fell, the army attacked the city’s gates—which would be easier to repair—rather than its walls. A capital’s ramparts and walls were usually protected by defensive magic. Most of the time, this came in the form of alchemical devices that magicians of any elemental stripe could operate simply by pouring mana into. It also wasn’t uncommon to use an array of magic stones to store and enable the defenders to use the devices without needing magicians to constantly attend to them.

Aberdeen, as Inverey’s capital, was naturally equipped with a very popular air magic defense.

“Sir, one of the machines on the northern rampart isn’t responding!”

Garrison Commander Nigel flinched at the devastating news. While the alchemical devices and alchemy stones in the command center were operating without issues, the same couldn’t be said for the northern wall—which just so happened to be near...

“The city gates?”

How could that be the only machine malfunctioning?

“Damn those Federation bastards.”

They had obviously been sabotaged without the defenders’ knowledge. It had probably happened within the twenty-four-hour deadline they’d been given to surrender. Now Nigel was forced to make a decision. Soldiers and magicians alike had been positioned on the ramparts to protect the city. With their help, the capital might hold—or not.

Now, if the Tactician’s first attack broke through the city gates, which were vulnerable with the magical defenses malfunctioning, then all would be lost.

“Shit, we have no choice. I know it’s early, but activate Green Storm. And hurry!”

◆

“Your Excellency, the city gate’s defense has fallen as planned.”

“They obviously neglected to perform their last-minute checks. Even if they had, I doubt they would have been able to fix the issue in time, considering they’re a bit short-staffed to begin with,” Aubrey said.

“But this is the Principality’s capital. How could they not have enough people?” Lamber asked.

“That is the question, hm?” One side of his mouth curled.

“Now then...” Lord Aubrey murmured, his voice so low that even Lamber couldn’t hear him. “If they have a secret weapon, they will put it into play sooner rather than later.”

◆

“Sir, Green Storm has been activated. The enemy cavalry will be within range in ten seconds.”

“Good. Scatter the first salvo wide. Engulf as much of the enemy as possible.”

“Three, two, one... They’re in range.”

“Mow them down!”

At that moment, a green light emanated from a spire towering over the center of Aberdeen. With a flash, it swept away the unit of Federation cavalry advancing toward the northern wall. They were instantly torn to shreds and obliterated.

“First attack, successful.”

“Huzzaaaaaah!”

Cheers went up in the command center. Even Nigel, who had maintained his composure all this time, clenched his fist in triumph. They had performed test firings several times, but this was the first real bombardment. Despite the lack of rehearsal, so to speak, the weapon had performed its role brilliantly. He almost thrust his fist into the air like his men.

“Come at us, invaders. We’ll cut you down to size as many times as you want.”

His monologue was louder than he intended, because his second-in-command, Meredith, standing next to him, heard it. So did the others.

◆

The Federation’s main host saw a green flash of light, then the vanguard cavalry was wiped out in an instant.

“What just—”

Even Lord Aubrey couldn’t string together a sentence in his shock.

“Your Excellency— I— That— What?”

Lamber, his right-hand man and aide, was confused too. How had the Principality of Inverey concealed the existence of such a powerful weapon?

“An arcane weapon...” Aubrey said through gritted teeth, referring to high-output armaments that used alchemy.

In this age, there weren’t many weapons big enough to warrant that label. Manifesting a magical phenomenon on a scale capable of affecting an entire battlefield required highly advanced alchemy, metallurgical technology, and a deep understanding of magic. It was quite difficult to meet all these conditions, particularly the first and last, even for one of the three great powers. It almost went without saying that a nation would need the help of an alchemist of the same caliber as Kenneth or Frank. As far as understanding magic’s innermost secrets, most people in the Central Provinces believed spells were activated by chanting specific incantations. Nothing more, nothing less. That was magic. In a society like this, in a world like this, gaining a “deep understanding of magic” was terribly difficult unless you were a magic-obsessed eccentric like Hilarion Baraha...

Because these factors were difficult to overcome, nothing resembling a true arcane weapon existed. Some legends said the floating continent of the Supreme Empire of Babylon was equipped with numerous arcane weapons, or the holy sword Astarte, the Hero’s weapon, was an arcane weapon, but that was it.

Until now. Something that could be called an arcane weapon had just devastated the Federation’s cavalry. No one except Lord Aubrey and Lamber had been able to say a word.

An arcane weapon... Color me surprised. I knew that Inverey’s alchemy was advanced, but to this degree... Hm? Alchemy? I see, now that I think about it, artificial golems are also arcane weapons.

At this point, Aubrey gave Lamber his orders: “Summon Dr. Frank de Velde at once.”

“R-Right away, my lord.”

And with that, he ran off to do his bidding.

Dr. Frank de Velde, the genius alchemist who had succeeded in creating the artificial golem, roared with laughter as he surveyed the carnage of the battlefield. “Ha ha ha! Mwa ha ha ha ha ha! Fantastic! Marvelous!”

Those around him didn’t take him to task for his outburst. Instead, they gawked at the remains of the vanguard, speechless.

“Truly mind-boggling!” Frank said to himself. “Was that Vedra? It was Vedra, wasn’t it? Vedra... Whether that’s the final form remains to be seen, but it must be Vedra. Then what does this mean? Is Kenneth here? Has he forsaken the Kingdom as well? Has he defected to the Principality? No, not him. He loved his parents. He would never abandon them and go abroad... Then why is Vedra in Inverey’s capital? The only thing I can think of is that the research results were stolen... Hmm. Possible. Kenneth himself would never do something so moronic, but someone else? Very possible. Stealing the fruits of someone else’s labor...only scum would do that. In any case...”

He grinned.

“This just means I can test my beauties against Vedra.”

Lamber arrived under Lord Aubrey’s orders to find Frank de Velde cackling maniacally.

“Your Excellency, I brought him as requested,” Lamber said.

“I’m mobilizing the golems,” Frank de Velde said.

“We are in agreement, Dr. de Velde,” Aubrey replied. “However, I wish to know what that green light is.”

“Of course. That’s Vedra. Well, I suspect it’s an imitation of it, to be more accurate. In any case, I have no doubt it’s Vedra.”

“And what is that?”

“The Kingdom’s secret weapon,” Frank said with a sneer.

His words surprised Aubrey. Why was Knightley’s secret weapon in the hands of Inverey?

No, now isn’t the time. The fact that the good doctor seems so knowledgeable about this Vedra is proof that luck still remains with us. Since it is the Kingdom’s arcane weapon, either he or Baron Kenneth Hayward, the other genius, must have developed it during their time there. One way or another, the artificial golems may be able to counter it.

“Vedra uses air magic to produce shock waves so minuscule that they vaporize anything in their path,” Frank explained. “I’d like to test a theory of mine using the golems. We may lose one, but its sacrifice is within acceptable battlefield limits, right?”

“Yes. You’re the expert. I leave the matter to your discretion. I would have wavered had you said my soldiers had to be sacrificed to your trial, but do as you please with your golems,” Lord Aubrey replied without hesitation.

“Excellent.” Frank lifted a small alchemy stone to his mouth. “Deploy the first golem!” he said into the stone, using it to contact his subordinates on the golem team. He’d made the communication mechanism in the Kingdom, but he’d since created a separate magic stone to store mana, allowing people who couldn’t use magic to operate the device.

Frank de Velde was an alchemist, so he could use magic. Two elements, actually: fire and air. He hadn’t come up with the idea of using a magic stone inside another for his sake—or anyone’s, really. He had just done it because it was possible, and when he’d tried it, it had worked. That was all there was to it.

He wasn’t quite a mad scientist. If an invention threatened to cause trouble for others, he would hesitate to proceed—even if he’d usually go ahead with the attempt regardless. Still, he didn’t want to pursue his interests if it meant radically changing another person’s life. But if the situation wasn’t that dire and the urge to innovate struck him, he’d give in.

That was the kind of man Dr. Frank de Velde was.

◆

Shortly after the Green Storm’s activation, Meredith, vice commander of the city’s garrison, rushed to find Nigel.

“Sir, the enemy is on the move.”

She and Nigel immediately climbed up the nearest rampart.

“What is that?” Meredith whispered in awe.

Nigel suspected he already knew the answer.

“A newly developed artificial golem.”

Due to the nature of his position as commander of Aberdeen’s garrison, he was privy to a great deal of highly classified information. Chief Salieri, the head of Inverey’s intelligence division, had relayed one such piece of information pertaining to artificial golems, as its dissemination was seen as vital to the Principality’s defense.

The thing slowly approaching the city must have been such a specimen.

“We need to hurry back to the command center.”

Nigel rushed down the rampart, Meredith at his heels. Green Storm was their only hope against the oncoming danger, but this time, they couldn’t scatter the weapon’s fire as they’d done before.

But one thing bothered him. Why was only a single artificial golem coming toward them?

“Are they trying to gauge the situation?”

Even if that were the case, destroying it completely would result in a deadlock against their enemy.

Nigel resolved to find a clear solution.

“Concentrate its fire this time,” Nigel said after climbing up to the command center.

The gunner nodded in response.

Their elevated vantage point allowed them to see past the ramparts, where the lone artificial golem approached the northern wall of the Principality’s capital.

The way the light reflects off its exterior makes it seem metallic... Steel, maybe? Green Storm’s area-of-effect firing mode won’t work, as it’s better against groups of people. Concentrating Green Storm’s power into a single blast should let us easily pierce steel. The artificial golem is outmatched!

Nigel’s thoughts ran amok as he tried to reassure himself. Regardless of how often he’d been told “don’t worry” or “it’ll work,” seeing was believing when it came to cutting-edge technology.

“Enemy golem will be within range in ten meters,” a subordinate called out.

Nigel blinked, pulled back to the present.

“Three meters, two, one. Target in range.”

“Fire!”

A green light blasted from the spire again. Instead of sweeping across the area, the light coalesced into a single shard no larger than a human arm and sped right at the artificial golem’s trunk. It punched right through the steel, and then the light scattered and disappeared.

The golem slowly toppled backward.

“Enemy down.”

“Wooo-hooooo!”

Cheers echoed throughout the command center, louder than the successful first attempt. Their weapon had worked on the enemy’s secret weapon. The beam had landed a perfect blow.

The rank-and-file troops considered victory impossible, but Green Storm had naturally given them a chance. They were starting to hope.

Unfortunately, that hope didn’t last very long.

“The enemy has deployed additional golems,” the lookout announced, putting an immediate damper on the mood in the command center.

“How many?” asked Garrison Commander Nigel, the first to regain his composure.

“Approximately twenty.”

“So almost all of them, huh?”

According to Chief Salieri’s briefing, twenty artificial golems had been confirmed. The enemy had just deployed them all, which confused Nigel.

We just showed them we’re capable of taking down their weapon, so why send more? As secret weapons, the golems must be important, right? Since we only used a single concentrated beam, do they think they can push through using sheer numbers? Are they gambling on Green Storm’s being unable to fire in rapid succession? We’re up against Lord Aubrey, the Tactician. I can’t imagine his thought process would be so simple... This doesn’t make sense.

Despite his concerns, Nigel had no choice but to fire Green Storm.

“Prepare to counter with concentrated bursts. Gunners, wait until they’re in range. Then, fire at will.”

“Yes, sir.”

Allowing the gunners to fire at will would be more effective than having Nigel give the order each time. In reality, twenty golems posed a serious threat. Even if they were slow, they could still certainly reach and batter down the city gates.

The golems approached in four columns.

Hm... Green Storm’s already taken out the first rank of their columns. If its power holds up, we might be able to take down the second rank too.

If they could pull it off, the battle would be over in no time.

“Ten meters until golems in range,” the lookout announced, following the same protocol.

“Status update on areas apart from the north,” Nigel said, feeling uneasy about the situation.

“No movement on the east side.”

“Same on the south side.”

“No movement on the west side.”

The other lookouts had nothing to report? Nigel felt worse and worse.

This doesn’t bode well...

Premonition, discomfort, and worry weren’t just instincts—they were conclusions a brain arrived at based on the person’s experience and knowledge. As a man of the battlefield, Nigel couldn’t ignore his gut feelings. After all, they’d warned him on previous occasions, saving his life. However, in the present, he had no choice but to fire Green Storm.

“Three meters. Two. One. Targets in range. Firing.”

The instant Green Storm activated, Nigel saw a white light gleam in front of the enemy golem’s chest. When Green Storm’s beam reached its target, that white light flashed, deflecting its attack to the side.

“What the hell just happened?!” Nigel shouted.

“The attack failed,” the lookout reported.

A heavy silence fell across the command center.

“The golems are gaining speed. They’re running!”

“Damn it! Gunners, fire as soon as the weapon’s charged! Use flags to signal the units on the ramparts to take defensive action. Hurry!”

Chaos suddenly erupted. After issuing his orders, Nigel summoned Meredith, his second-in-command at the garrison, to an empty corner of the room.

“Meredith, this is it: the worst-case scenario. You handle the magic stones, just like we planned.”

“But, sir—” Meredith cried out.

“Meredith, this is an order! Stop wasting time and obey it. And if you see them taking over the ramparts, do your duty. Is that understood? The survival of our country rests on your shoulders,” Nigel said calmly.

“Commander...”

“My fate is bound to the capital’s. I’m counting on you.”

With that, he sent Meredith out of the command center.

After Green Storm’s first shot was deflected, the gunners fired three more to no avail. Each time, that white light flashed in front of the golems, and some invisible phenomenon made the green beam of light glance off to the side.

When the golems reached the city’s northern gates, they smashed through them easily, encountering almost no resistance. Once the main Federation force confirmed this, they deployed the remaining cavalry to invade Aberdeen through the other gates and capture the command center and spire.

It wasn’t long before the capital was lost to Federation forces.

When Aberdeen fell, Meredith was already on horseback, riding south.

“Commander... I’ll deliver this. Trust me,” she muttered, carefully clutching a bag containing a mysterious parcel.

◆

One after another, Lord Aubrey’s subordinates made their reports:

“The castle is completely deserted.”

“The spire’s arcane weapon has been destroyed.”

“Only five hundred or so civilians remain.”

He found each of them unsatisfactory.

Even if I anticipated it, both Inverey and his family escaping and the destruction of the weapon rankle me to no end. It is what it is, I suppose.

With a quiet sigh, he strode toward the plaza in front of the command center. His bodyguards hurried after him. Though they had occupied the Principality’s capital, there was no guarantee archers, magicians, and the like weren’t still hiding around the city. If anything happened to their leader, it would be their heads...

At Aubrey’s side, Lamber understood the bodyguards’ concerns as if they were his own. After all, he too was a victim of their lord’s whims. Nevertheless, Lord Aubrey’s behavior didn’t change, no matter how often Lamber cautioned him. “Yes, yes—I understand,” he would say every time, but the truth was, he understood nothing. Had Aubrey been a natural-born statesman, perhaps he would have been more mindful of his own safety. However, he was a soldier at heart. He might never have been an adventurer, but he was no stranger to battlefields.

Perhaps that explained why he’d grown to hold his life with so little regard. No matter how careful you were, death came for everybody. Blunt, yes, but Aubrey had arrived at that conclusion a long time ago.

After surrendering, the capital’s garrison had been forced to sit on the ground in the plaza. Nigel, the commander, was at the front.

Aubrey stood before them. “I am Aubrey Hubble Coleman,” he said, “one chosen to serve as the leader of the Federation. May I have your names?”

Nigel was genuinely shocked by the introduction. He hadn’t just been pleasant, but he’d also used his full name. While the Federation occupied this city, it was rare for an enemy to stand before captured soldiers and introduce himself, much less ask his opponents’ names. His impression of Aubrey was based on rumors of an outstanding general but an arrogant man—an impression that had become certainty before he even knew it. But this man in front of him... Was he simply putting on a performance? Whatever the case, he couldn’t ignore the leader of a country who had just introduced himself.

“I— My name is Nigel Madden. I was appointed commander of the city’s garrison. And these—these are the people under my command. I don’t care what happens to me so long as you spare them and the capital’s residents.” He bowed his head.

“Sir...”

Sniffles and murmurs rose from the garrison members around him.

“Hm. Lamber, are any civilians injured?”

“No. Per your orders, Your Excellency, we are forbidden from hurting the citizenry and looting the city. As of now, there are no reports of either activity. If we discover any of our soldiers have committed such acts, they will be beheaded on the spot, regardless of rank.”

“There you have it. I swear on my name that the people’s safety is guaranteed.”

“H-How can I trust you?” Nigel asked.

“Enough of your insolence!” Lamber snapped.

“Lamber,” Lord Aubrey said coolly, “I’ll handle this.” He looked at Nigel. “Your unease is only natural. However, I bid you to consider this: We intend to rule over this city. What good would it do us to earn the people’s enmity? And in the unlikely event that we did massacre everyone here, don’t you think word would spread to other towns and cities, thereby rallying resistance? It is not only out of mercy that we refrain from hurting the populace, but from a political standpoint as well. Be at ease.”

Even Nigel was relieved after hearing Aubrey thoroughly explain his reasoning.

“I only have one question,” Aubrey continued, “which I hope you can answer for me.”

“Depends on what you ask. I might not be able to. I have to think of my position too,” Nigel answered him with a grimace. Though he was grateful that his fellow citizens would be safe, there were some—no, many—questions he just couldn’t answer.

“Why are five hundred civilians still here?”

Nigel blinked, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

He’d thought the man would ask about the prince’s whereabouts or information on Green Storm, not about the civilians remaining in the capital. That being the only thing he wanted to know was—well, baffling, to say the least.

“I understand why the garrison remains. Right now, stalling for time is the Principality’s most important tactic. In which case, there is no need for any civilians to stay behind. I realize that most of the citizenry has already evacuated, but for whatever reason, more than five hundred still remain. While some are surely too feeble to move, wouldn’t you say five hundred is too many?”

Aubrey was genuinely curious. He didn’t need to inquire about purely military matters because most of the current situation was well within his predictions, meaning nothing particularly out of the ordinary had occurred. Moreover, a mere garrison commander wouldn’t know much about political maneuverings anyway, including the whereabouts of the prince and his family. In short, there was no need to ask about such things, which was why he asked the question foremost in his mind.

“Well,” Nigel said, “they would rather die here in the city than leave. Some are infirm, as you said, but most simply refused to abandon their home.”

“I see.”

Lord Aubrey, too, understood the sentiment. Before he’d even asked the question, he’d known there would be such individuals. He’d expected no more than a few dozen, however, so he was surprised to learn hundreds had remained instead.

“A great and beloved city, eh?” he murmured to himself. “Rest assured that your people’s lives, including those under your command, are safe. I wager you’ve burned any food supplies. If so, my army will feed you all. I hope you all will be docile captives, at least for the time being.”

Then Aubrey turned on his heel and left the square.

The members of the city’s garrison were left dumbfounded. Commander Nigel Madden was the only one with his head hanging. In a sense, he had been dealt a devastating blow by Lord Aubrey’s open-mindedness.

“That man may devour all of Inverey...” he said in a voice so soft that, thankfully, none of his men heard him.

Aubrey’s destination was the spire at Aberdeen’s center, which had fired the green light earlier. There, he would likely find the remains of the arcane weapon Dr. de Velde had called “an imitation of Vedra.” Despite the report of its destruction, he wanted to see it, just once, with his own eyes.

He passed several sentry checkpoints before arriving at the highest floor in the spire, where he discovered people were already inside. He should have expected as much.

“I suspected you couldn’t resist, Doctor.”

“Oh, it’s you, Lord Aubrey. I take it your interest was piqued too?” Dr. Frank de Velde said. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you say you have no understanding whatsoever of alchemy?”

Dr. Frank de Velde and his subordinates were currently investigating something.

“You have an excellent memory. Still, can you blame me for being interested in that green light? I wished to see it regardless of its current state.”

“Ba ha ha! The Tactician is definitely cut from a different cloth.” One side of Frank’s mouth curled. “Would you like to hear my thoughts on the matter?”

He had, in fact, wanted someone to ask his opinion on the weapon, but discussing the topic with an imbecile would have been pointless. A like-minded individual with a deep understanding of alchemy would have been ideal. Unfortunately, no such person was here...and his subordinates didn’t count, since he was far superior to them.

In that case, why not a man with an incredibly sharp intellect, his lack of knowledge on alchemy notwithstanding? Frank expected the conversation to be entertaining in its own right, at least.

“I would like that very much! Though if you could start by explaining exactly what Vedra is, I’d be much obliged.”

“Hm, you have a point. To put it briefly, Vedra is the Kingdom’s secret, arcane weapon that utilizes air magic. Kenneth designed it. It perfectly encapsulates the work of one known as a prodigy. However, it wasn’t yet complete when I was still there. The problem wasn’t his ability. No, it was primarily one of budget. And magic stones.”

“Magic stones?” Lord Aubrey parroted with a curious tilt of his head. On his climb up, he had gotten a brief glimpse of the weapon. As far as he could tell, no magic stones were embedded in it or the room around them. Not even fragments.

“This apparatus requires not one, but two fairly large air magic stones to function. Kenneth experimented with alternative means, like smaller magic stones and an interlocking network of magic stones. He may have succeeded by now, but...not this one. It’s using the old design.”

“Yet I see no magic stones anywhere.”

“Indeed. Someone must have taken them out...” Dr. de Velde replied with a small shake of his head.

“Likely a member of the garrison carrying out orders. The only reason to do so would be...” Aubrey murmured, thinking out loud.

Frank smirked. “Because they have another weapon somewhere else, eh?”

“The weapon has almost no special components. Acquiring two large air magic stones is the most difficult aspect to it... Its only other unique property is the magic formula. Kenneth’s formulas are extraordinary, to say the least, and quite distinctive. The one used in this one is no exception...”

“Then you confirm the formula is Baron Kenneth Hayward’s?”

“I do. His research must have been stolen. Poor boy.” Dr. de Velde frowned mournfully. Any researcher knew the theft of one’s work would be indescribably painful.

“Dr. de Velde, there are two more things I would like to know on this subject.”

“Oh? You’re free to ask me anything you want. After all, I am dependent on your patronage.” Frank burst into laughter. His attitude was completely unlike what a servant would usually show their master. Luckily for him, Lord Aubrey wasn’t the kind to care about something like that.

“First, what is this weapon’s firing range?”

“Ah... A difficult question right off the bat, eh? Frankly speaking, it depends entirely on the magic stones themselves. Having said that, if I had to venture a guess, a kilometer...give or take.”

“Understood.”

Aubrey needed to know this information in the event that another weapon existed. In all likelihood, it must have been located wherever Inverey had withdrawn to...

“My second question concerns how the artificial golems intercepted this mock Vedra’s attack.”

Frank narrowed his eyes, lips quivering into a sneer. “Do tell.”

“My magicians think it was some type of air magic. However...”

“You believe otherwise, Lord Aubrey?”

“No, I think they’re correct. However, it’s...different from normal air magic. Air magic that is almost akin to fire magic... Though I don’t know if something like that is possible, I must admit it felt off to me.”

In an incredibly rare turn of events, Frank’s eyes widened in surprise. “As I recall, you can’t use magic at all, my lord.”

“Correct. Seems I lack the aptitude for it.”

“And yet you detected such a distinction nevertheless... You are a man of many surprises, indeed.” With that, Frank executed a very polite bow. Unlike most of his mannerisms so far, this was a true sign of his respect.

“Is it truly so praiseworthy?” Aubrey asked, perplexed by the other’s reaction.

“Yes. What you did is exceedingly rare. You arrived at your conclusion using only your intellect and knowledge without any magical perception.”

Even the way Frank spoke to him had changed. That was how powerful the shock had been to him.

“You’re only half right about it being air magic. You’re also only half right about it being related to fire magic. For the golems, I would have to start by explaining their air magic defense, but it will take some time. Is that all right with you?”

“Go on. I don’t mind.” Aubrey said with a nod.

“Let me see... Please recall the alchemical tool that generates a protective barrier using air magic, named ‘carriage membrane’ for convenience’s sake. The same ones you had the supply teams carry.”

“Right, yes. Although... I must ask, couldn’t you have devised a better name?”

“What’s done is done. Besides, I wasn’t the one who named it.”

“Oh, bloody hell, don’t tell me it was—”

“If your guess is Master Lamber, you would be correct.”

Lamber was an extremely capable right-hand man, but his ability to coin a phrase was—

“I see... You’re right, it is what it is. He doesn’t mean any harm. That is just how he is...”

“Hmm...”

Grimacing, both men looked down. They were well aware that the troops who actually used the devices in the field had quickly renamed them “wind jammers” because their original name was so terrible... That was, in fact, a much better name...

“Right,” Frank continued, recovering. “The device, placed in the center of a carriage, generates a membrane. The closest analogy would be a fountain.”

Fountains projected a jet of water from their centers, which spread out as a thin umbrella around them.

“Easy enough to understand. The water is air magic, so it has no effect on those inside the membrane.”

“Correct. The item in Whitnash has the same basic mechanism. The carriage membrane is a downgraded version of the Wind Defense Membrane, which is completely different from the wyvern’s defensive membrane it’s modeled after.”

“Fascinating, utterly fascinating.”

Aubrey had never been an adventurer, but he had led knights and magicians on wyvern hunts when superiors ordered him to exterminate them. Even now, he remembered how terrifying and difficult the battles had been.

“A wyvern’s membrane works by expelling air all over its body, which is a completely different mechanism, though it may not appear so. Once you break through a carriage membrane, the entire shield disappears, offering no further resistance. That’s not the case with wyverns. Any attack, whether an arrow or a magic projectile, will continue to face a frontal, continuous stream of air magic even if the wyvern’s hide has already been struck. It’s like shooting into a headwind. Eventually, your attacks always lose momentum.”

“Yes...very true.” Lord Aubrey thought back to his own experience. “Ergo, the only path to beating a wyvern is to wear it down until it can no longer sustain its defensive membrane.”

“Now let’s discuss the artificial golems. As I just mentioned, there are two primary types of air magic defense. No, there were two types.”

Aubrey tilted his head slightly.

“You see, the artificial golem uses neither of those. Its defense is a mix of air and fire. How should I put it... Like small bursts of lightning. Yes, yes, that’s it.”

“Lightning?”

“Correct. That thing that lights up the sky. It shocks you when you touch it. When it strikes trees, it creates fire, yes? That lightning.” Dr. de Velde frowned, having trouble explaining the concept.

“Defending with lightning... Difficult to imagine. Nevertheless, an intriguing technology. Should I assume it has other applications as well?”

“You are a quick thinker, Lord Aubrey. My turn to ask you a question now. Even though their defenses were down, did you find it strange how smoothly we destroyed the city gates?”

“I did, actually. I imagine you used this lightning of yours to cut them down, eh?” answered Aubrey.

“Correct. Now, I trust my explanation has satisfied you. We’ll need a few magic stones, but...nothing particularly large, so I doubt it will pose any problems. Anything more would be much too complicated. Oh, we’ll need time to replace any parts and readjust the twenty units, considering how long we were operating them. Fortunately, we can return the first unit taken down by the initial hit to service relatively easily, with just a simple part replacement.”

And with that, Dr. Frank de Velde concluded his explanation.

◆

The last time Ryo stayed in Redpost, a city on the eastern border of the Kingdom of Knightley, he’d been escorting Gekko to the Principality of Inverey. Redpost was also where he’d helped former assassin Sherfi remove the tattoo from his chest. At one point, the city had been overflowing with refugees from Inverey. However, many had just used it as a waypoint into the Kingdom. Under the direct control of the royal family, Redpost had started moving refugees into the country, so the initial wave of refugees had calmed to a much more manageable trickle.

“The refugee problem is a difficult one...” Ryo muttered as he watched the scene.

He recalled the images of refugees he had seen on TV back on Earth, the host countries dealing with them, and various populations clashing over the issue... The refugee problem wasn’t something that could be fixed with pity. The ideal solution was supporting the refugees’ homelands so that they didn’t have to abandon them in the first place... Unfortunately, it was hard to find a solution after one’s country had already turned into a war zone.

Ryo shook his head and entered the inn’s dining room to find a familiar face already there.

“A B-rank adventurer swordsman with a fierce countenance, reading a book I don’t even know how he got his hands on...”

“Hey, I can hear you,” Abel snapped back, looking up from said book.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Uhhh, pretty sure I was reading until some water magician interrupted me.”

“You clearly have a long way to go if such a minor interruption is all it takes to ruin your flow, Abel.” Sighing and shaking his head, Ryo spread his arms dramatically.

“Oh, yeah,” Abel said, scowling. “That makes complete sense. Not illogical at all. Nope.”

“I wonder how long this meeting will last...”

“Good question. Until the day before yesterday, they were trying to figure out how to get to the capital, but now they can’t even decide whether to cross the border.”

The meeting had taken a turn once news of Aberdeen’s fall arrived. Of course, since they hadn’t actually seen the situation in that city, some people believed it was just propaganda meant to delay the Kingdom’s expedition. Including these folks, everyone had split into three factions: those still advocating storming into Inverey, those who thought they should no longer intervene now that Aberdeen had fallen, and the undecided.

Five days had passed since Ryo and Abel sent the children to safety. Recently, they had stopped going near the room where guild masters from each city—including Hugh McGlass of Lune—discussed the mission at hand.

“Honestly, why is it taking so long in the first place?” Ryo asked.

“Probably ’cuz the chain of command hasn’t been decided yet. There’s no clear leader either,” Abel answered. “Each guild has an unwritten hierarchy. At the top is, of course, the headquarters in the capital. The issue is that the HQ’s submaster, not its guild master, came to Redpost.”

“Ohhh, so if the guild master had come, they would be in charge?” Ryo blurted.

“Yup. Whoever holds that position is called the grand master in the Kingdom, since they sit on top of all the guilds here. The most powerful guilds after HQ are in the largest cities in the east, west, north, and south, plus Lune, the largest in the frontier. But because the grand master isn’t here, things are a mess right now.”

“Wow! So Lune’s guild is fairly high up in that hierarchy, huh!”

Ryo was happy that the organization he belonged to was well regarded. Most people were like that.

“Well, we have racked up a bunch of achievements. Unlike the other four big guilds, Lune’s is a meritocracy ’cuz it’s out in the sticks.” Abel sounded like he was bragging. He must have been proud that Crimson Sword was included in the guild’s stellar track record.

“The guild masters from the other four cities are here.”

“Oh, right. Landenbier is the guild master of Acray now,” Ryo said, referring to the largest city in the south. “I met him once when he was still with Kailadi’s guild.”

Goro, magistrate of Kona, and others had praised the man as the conscience of Kailadi. He had been promoted from that city’s submaster to Acray’s guild master.

“Yeah, he’s brilliant and a good guy to boot. But since the other three are also on the same level as him and Hugh...”

“They can’t decide on a leader.” Ryo sighed softly.

No wonder they weren’t making any progress. A meeting without a leader was doomed to stall.

“The master from the east and the submaster from HQ wanna charge in, but the north and west wanna play it safe.”

“Two against two. Wait, where’s the south in all this?”

“Landenbier and Hugh are neutral,” Abel responded with a frown.

“I heard that Hugh’s on good terms with the Principality, so I’m a bit surprised by his stance. I thought he’d drop everything and storm right in.”

“’Cuz this ain’t just ’bout me, lad,” said Hugh, suddenly appearing behind Ryo.

Anyone else would have been jolted by his sudden appearance, but Ryo and Abel had noticed Hugh’s approach, so they weren’t surprised.

“Dang, at least pretend like I scared ya,” Hugh said morosely.

“The lives o’ three hundred ’venturers are at stake. Not just your run-o’-the-mill ones either. All C-rank or above. The cream o’ the bloody crop. Losin’ ’em would threaten the very survival o’ the Kingdom.”

There were many forests and mountains within Knightley. On Phi, forests and mountains didn’t belong to people—they belonged to monsters. Adventurers had to exterminate the monsters that wandered out or go in to proactively thin them out to prevent outbreaks.

If elite adventurers ceased to exist, the monsters in the forests and mountains could surge out and engulf towns and cities everywhere. In fact, this exact phenomenon happened to many cities three centuries ago. Records indicated that even an entire country in the Central Provinces had been destroyed.

“So this ain’t somethin’ I can just decide on my own feelings. ’Sides, the Federation’s supreme command is Aubrey. Not an easy opponent to deal with.”

“Do you know him personally, Hugh?” Ryo asked.

“Yeah. We fought a few times during the last war.” He stared off into the distance, like he was remembering something from the past, before continuing. “Ya both are incredible fighters, but Aubrey is a right monster. Sure, his skill with a sword is impressive. More’n that though, folks call him a genius o’ war. Gonna be straight with ya—I didn’t expect him to take to the battlefield himself after becoming leader of the Federation... So maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to pull back right now.”

Abel and Ryo sensed how torn he was over the situation. That explained why he was remaining neutral.

The next day, the situation changed when a carriage arrived at the inn. On the vehicle’s door was a crest featuring a sword and a staff crossed over a shield, the emblem of the Kingdom’s adventurers’ guild. A magician in his mid-fifties climbed out. At 185 centimeters tall, he carried a staff that stood even taller than him. He surveyed the area with a sharp gaze and then entered the inn and strode into the meeting room.

The first to notice was Josiah Onsager, submaster of guild HQ in the capital. “G-Grand Master!” he called out.

Finley Forsyth was the grand master of guild HQ and the top man at the top of the Kingdom’s adventurers’ guilds. As he walked through the meeting room, the other guild masters stood to welcome him. After he sat at the head of the table, which had previously been occupied by his submaster, the others took their seats too.

“Grand Master, I, uh...” Josiah began.

Finley raised his right, silencing him. “I come to you now bearing a message from the government,” he said, solemnly addressing the group. “Cross the border and liberate the Principality.”

A momentary hush fell over the space.

“Aaaye!”

The HQ’s submaster and the guild master from the largest city in the Kingdom’s east suddenly cheered.

Meanwhile, the guild masters from the western and northern parts of the Kingdom looked on in bitter frustration.

As for Hugh and Landenbier representing the south, they just sat there quietly.

◆

“Your Excellency,” Lamber said, “we’ve received a report from Inverey’s western border. A group believed to be adventurers from the Kingdom broke through at six this morning. Our troops have abandoned the bridge there.”

Lord Aubrey tilted his head. “About time... It took them longer to make a decision than I’d expected.”

He took a sip of his tea.

“According to our spy’s report, a carriage with the official guild crest arrived from the royal capital a few days ago. Not long after, the decision to attack was made.”

“Must have been someone powerful. Grand Master Finley Forsyth, I think.” The corners of his mouth turned up as he chuckled.

“We shifted the Third Battalion out after they captured Rednall to make it easier for them to cross the border quickly... All our efforts wasted, considering they took so bloody long. Tell me, Lamber, what should our forces do now?” Lord Aubrey asked, as if testing him.

“We wait and see.”

“Why?”

“Our trump card is the artificial golems, but with the exception of Unit 01, they aren’t ready to be deployed to the front lines yet. Additionally, we haven’t yet identified where the prince of Inverey is hiding. However, his camp will most assuredly pass information on to the Kingdom’s adventurers. In short, if we monitor their movements, we’ll discover where Inverey is. We can then wait for them to join forces and wipe them out. That is why,” Lamber said, oozing confidence.

Then he looked at Aubrey and saw the malice glittering in his eyes.

“A-Am I mistaken, my lord?” Lamber asked.

“You are half correct. There is no need to wait for them to rendezvous. We can attack just before they do, or just after, in the chaos. Or we can surmise where Inverey and his men are from the direction the adventurers are heading. I already have an idea.”

“Do you really?!”

Even Lamber was surprised by Aubrey’s words. They hadn’t yet received any reports on the whereabouts of Inverey and his army.

“Most likely Fion, in the south. However, this is merely conjecture on my part. I’ve sent out scouts but have heard nothing yet. Once they provide confirmation, we attack at once.”

“I know I am a neophyte compared to you, Your Excellency, so I beg your pardon... But won’t the Kingdom’s adventurers pose a threat if they make it to the battlefield?”

“Precisely so, Lamber. That is exactly why we want them to pass through the border quickly and head to Inverey’s location without actually reaching him. You’ve wrung the full and honest truth out of me now.”

“I see. It’s all so very...complicated, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed. War is, without a doubt, complicated.”

Then Lord Aubrey drank the rest of his tea.

The Siege of Fion

The city of Fion, located in the Principality’s southern region, was under the direct control of the prince’s family. Loris Baggio, prince of Inverey, was currently in Fion’s magistrate’s office. Almost all the remaining military forces he’d mobilized were gathered in the city.

Originally, he’d planned to use Fion as a base for a counterattack after he’d exhausted the invading Federation forces through scorched-earth warfare. However, with the capital falling sooner than anticipated, the entire northern part of the Principality falling under Federation control, and Inverey’s attacks on the enemy’s supply lines repeatedly failing, Inverey’s forces were in a difficult position. Despite Inverey’s scorched-earth tactic, its enemy was hardly fazed.

Loris and the other leaders of Inverey’s military had assumed that the Federation would move to take control of other areas once the capital fell, but Federation forces had halted their invasion. This temporary suspension was unexpected. They had blitzed the capital and then came to a complete standstill... It simply made no sense.

“Why aren’t they moving?” Loris Baggio said through clenched teeth, glaring down at a map of Inverey unfurled across the conference room table of the magistrate’s office. “There is no merit in prolonging an invasion.”

His words were spot-on. The more time passed, the more likely nobles and commoners alike would rise up and oppose the invaders. There was no way Lord Aubrey, the man known as the Tactician, didn’t understand this simple fact. And this was exactly why the sudden cessation of aggression baffled and unnerved Loris and his generals.

Unfortunately for Loris, no one here had an answer for him. Long minutes passed in utter silence.

Then, Salieri, head of the intelligence division, finally spoke:

“Perhaps Aubrey plans to use his own people to colonize the capital and the north, solidifying the Federation’s rule.”

A collective gasp of surprise ran through every person in the room.

The government had evacuated as many of Inverey’s citizens as possible in preparation for the scorched-earth warfare, particularly in the villages, towns, and cities in the northern regions through which it had expected the Federation’s army to advance. Inverey’s forces had also burned down buildings and destroyed wells in many villages. In short, they had been as thorough as possible in their planned destruction to ensure the Federation had nothing to use. Soldiers had shed tears while sobbing villagers watched...

The inescapable reality was that their vast territory was empty, and it could now be repopulated by the Federation’s citizens... While Loris and his people didn’t think the Federation would be satisfied with just controlling the north and the capital, it was entirely possible that Aubrey would use those regions to establish a foothold at the very least.

“Salieri, have you received concrete information that lends credence to this theory?” Loris asked, still grimacing from the shock of the news.

“There have been no settlers yet, but construction has started on a road from the northern border to Aberdeen, on a scale normally unimaginable. It will be thirty meters wide, running in a nearly straight line, and it stands to reason there’s no need to lay down such a road for military use only.”

“I see.”

A road thirty meters wide was enormous. In modern-day Earth terms, it was equivalent to an eight-lane highway with four lanes for traffic in each direction... Not unlike certain oil kingdoms.

Once again, silence blanketed the conference room.

The next time the silence broke, it wasn’t because someone broached a sensitive subject; instead, it was due to the arrival of one of Salieri’s subordinates.

After scanning the report his subordinate had delivered, Salieri handed it to Loris.

Loris read the document twice and nodded emphatically.

“Listen closely,” he said. “Approximately three hundred of the Kingdom’s best adventurers have crossed the border and are on their way as we speak to rendezvous with our forces. Grand Master Finley Forsyth leads them. What’s more, Master Hugh McGlass, the champion of the Great War, marches among their ranks!”

The news practically sent a shock wave rippling through the conference room.

After a momentary hush, the room erupted in joyous cheers so loud they could have been heard from the heavens.

“Huzzaaaah!”

They had been fighting tooth and nail for so long, so naturally, this news sent their spirits soaring. Conversation buzzed in the room, with Master McGlass’s name the first on many people’s lips. Although he was a citizen of another country, in a sense, he was also a symbol of the Principality’s independence, which made him immensely popular in the country. You could say his involvement implied a certainty of victory.

The report also noted that Inverey’s intelligence agents had already contacted Knightley’s expeditionary force, and arrangements were being made to lead them to Fion. Though he knew this could very well be the final battle, Prince Loris had already made up his mind: As soon as Knightley’s army arrived, Inverey’s forces would commence their counterattack.

◆

The Kingdom’s expeditionary force of adventurers trekked through the forest in the western part of the Principality. Although this region of Inverey wasn’t completely under the Federation’s control, its main highways were, forcing them to travel using game trails or the forest paths that only locals knew of. Sometimes, they had to make their own route by cutting through the thick vegetation.

Grand Master Finley Forsyth was the supreme commander, but the army was separated into divisions based on which region of Knightley its soldiers came from. East Division led the way, followed by West Division, North Division, and Central, where the capital was located. South Division was at the rear.

“Does the Grand Master hate the people from the south?” Ryo asked.

“Ryo, you’re not supposed to ask that,” Abel hissed back, running beside him.

Hugh McGlass, running behind them, released a deep sigh. “It’s my fault. I’m the one he hates.”

He turned out to be the reason South Division was put in the rear guard. Chloe, a member of Inverey’s intelligence division and one of their local guides, ran beside him. Although all the adventurers were C-rank or higher—except for Ryo, of course—racing through the forest proved more arduous than expected.

“We’re starting to lag. Should we walk instead?” Ryo asked Hugh.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he replied. Then he put his fingers to his lips and issued a sharp whistle.

In response, all of South Division slowed to a walk. They didn’t stop completely since they wanted to arrive at their destination as quickly as possible. Abel, Ryo, and Hugh weren’t out of breath whatsoever, but Chloe sighed in relief as she switched to an easier pace.

“Here, Chloe,” Ryo said, creating a cup of ice and filling it with water. “Please drink it.”

Even though she looked gassed, she still croaked out a “Thanks.” Then she downed the entire thing in one gulp.

“I should have expected as much from the champion of the Great War and B-rank adventurers,” she muttered between gasping breaths, almost like she was talking to herself. “I was confident in my stamina and my ability to lead everyone through this forest. ‘Volunteer as a guide,’ I thought—but I now can barely keep up.”

“You’re doing just fine, trust me. Look, the others behind us are in even worse shape,” Ryo said, trying to comfort her. “These two aren’t normal.”

Chloe had short, chestnut-colored hair and eyes of the same color that were constantly scanning their surroundings. All in all, a pretty woman. She must have been around twenty years old. Two daggers, well cared for, hung from her hips. She stood a smidge shorter than Ryo but was still a tad taller than average. And as an operative for the intelligence division, she was competent at melee combat too. Inverey had dispatched other intelligence personnel to the expeditionary force’s other divisions, but Chloe was the only woman among them.

“Hugh doesn’t like men. Too filthy, he says,” Ryo said. “So long as they have some talent, he prefers women. South Division doesn’t have too many, though, so that’s why he brought you along as our guide, Chloe.”

His remark bordered on sexual harassment.

“Don’t go makin’ things up, boy,” Hugh growled.

Chloe huffed a laugh.

“Laughter really is the best medicine. It’s working out just like we planned, Hugh!”

“News to me. I damn well don’t remember havin’ a conversation like that with ya!”

Chloe’s chuckle evolved into full-blown laughter.

Watching her, Ryo nodded repeatedly in satisfaction.

“You sure can be thoughtful at times like these, Ryo,” Abel murmured next to them, genuinely impressed.

“So, Hugh... Why does the Grand Master hate you?” Ryo asked. Walking made conversation much easier than running.

“Yer really ain’t lettin’ it go, huh?” Hugh grumbled with a scowl.

“Sharing secrets builds solidarity. And I believe that in order to overcome death, it’s best to have a strong sense of camaraderie,” Ryo stated grandly.

“Well, to put it plainly: I turned down Lord Forsyth’s offer to marry his daughter,” Hugh said with a sigh.

Even as he continued walking forward, Ryo turned his head 180 degrees to stare wide-eyed back at Hugh. It made for a terribly surreal sight, to say the least.

Walking beside Hugh, Chloe stared at Lune’s guild master in surprise.

Abel continued walking, unfazed apart from his quiet sigh. Apparently, he already knew all this.

“Was the way she looks...”—Ryo hesitated—“uh, not to your liking? Or...” He had to be careful with his words.

Sexual harassment wasn’t treat the same way on Phi as it is on Earth. However, this wasn’t because of gender inequality. In fact, it was the exact opposite: Phi’s women had much more power than women on Earth. While men were often stronger physically, magic existed in this world, and research indicated that women possessed a slightly higher affinity for magic than men. There were also reportedly more female magicians than male. Since mortality was a real possibility in many professions, including adventuring, the knighthood, and the magic corps, society had naturally developed into a meritocracy. There was no discrimination or delay in promotion exclusively because of one’s gender. Thus, this was a world where women were also powerful.

That was why Ryo had to be careful with his words. The wrong one could lead right to his demise...

“Her looks, eh? Nah. Elsie’s considered one o’ the finest beauties, even in the capital.” Hugh seemed lost in his memories.

Ryo cocked his head curiously. “Then did your decision have something to do with the Grand Master’s pedigree? Did you think you were too far apart in terms of social status or something like that?”

“Lord Forsyth’s an earl. Any man who marries Elsie would inherit the position,” Hugh answered with a sigh.

Ryo only became more curious. “Oh, I know! Hugh, you aren’t Elsie’s ty— Ummm, I mean... Maybe she prefers someone leaner and aristocratic?”

“Actually, she’s got a thing for ferocious-lookin’ men like me. Ironic, ain’t it?” Hugh heaved an even deeper sigh.

At this point, Ryo had tilted his head so far to the side it was almost at a right angle.

“Then why did you refuse her?” He couldn’t fathom why a man would turn down such a tempting offer...

“All right, so... This all went down three years ago. I was thirty-six at the time and Elsie was eighteen. Plain and simple, I just felt sorry for a girl marryin’ a man almost twenty years older than her.”

What a stupid reason. Ridiculously stupid, in fact. Who cares about age difference if you have love on your side?!

Ryo was smart enough not to let his thoughts escape his mouth. Hugh McGlass was a guild master. In other words, he was Ryo’s boss, and Ryo knew a subordinate should respect their superior.

How wise I am, he thought to himself while nodding.

Hugh squinted at him. “Ryo, I’d bet ya good money ya were just thinking, What a stupid reason. I’m right, ain’t I?”

“How— What—”

Ryo was shocked to the bottom of his heart. Apparently, a champion’s intuition was the real deal.

“Oh, but the mayhem at the capital—” Ryo stopped, realizing it would be rude to finish that sentence. Since so many noble families were living in the city at the time of the incident, chances were high that something had—

“I know what yer thinking an’ ya don’t need to worry. Elsie just so happened to be in the west at the time. Twilightland, I think? In any case, she wasn’t in the capital.”

“Twilightland...” Ryo said, marveling at the name. It’d taken a single word to take his mind off Elsie’s safety. “Country of dusk... That sounds so cool...”

“That’s a new one. Never heard someone call it that before... Anyway, Twilightland is southwest o’ Knightley. Still a fairly young country, founded ’bout a century ago. Gotta say, pretty impressive they carved somethin’ out o’ nothin’.”

If “twilight” doesn’t mean the same thing as dusk here, then what does Twilightland mean? That also raises the question: Who in the world named that country in the first place?

Yet another unsolvable mystery was born in Ryo’s mind.

South Division continued marching, Ryo at the head.

Suddenly, he felt his Passive Sonar react.

“Hugh,” he called, “there’s fighting four hundred meters ahead.”

“Got it.”

Hugh let out a sharp whistle using his fingers. At his signal, all seventy members of South Division gathered around him. Acray’s guild master, Landenbier—entrusted with bringing up the rear—arrived last.

“There’s fightin’ four hundred meters ahead,” Hugh announced stoically. “Dependin’ on the situation, we may need to keep goin’ regardless. Figured I’d let ya all know now.”

Normally, soldiers might have protested, accusing him of abandoning their allies. All of South Division, however, knew that Hugh wouldn’t make a decision like that without a good reason. After all, the title of “Champion of the Great War” carried tremendous weight, especially on the battlefield.

“Yer prob’ly wonderin’ why. I’ll tell ya. Odds are good that the fight’s already started between the Federation and Inverey’s forces on the primary battlefield, ’n’ I wanna get outta this forest as fast as possible.”

Chloe’s eyes widened.

“At any rate, that’s our goal. We’ll take stock o’ the situation again once we get there. We keep goin’ in column formation just like we have been. Master Landenbier, I’m trustin’ ya with our rear. It’ll be the end o’ us if we find ourselves surrounded.”

“Understood.”

In an army, it was common sense to put your most reliable troops at the front and rear. Since any opposing force would want to crush their enemy as easily and quickly as possible, they’d naturally attack from the rear, right?

Meanwhile, Abel, the sole B-rank adventurer, was at the head of the group.

B-ranks were valuable. Despite all the adventurers from Acray, the largest city in the Kingdom’s south, and Lune, the largest city in the Kingdom’s frontier, gathered here, only one currently active B-rank party was participating in the expedition: Crimson Sword. And even then, Abel was the only member. Still, South Division was in a better position than the others. East and Central had one B-rank party each, while North and West had none.

No A-rank parties had joined the expedition, because there was only one currently active in the entirety of Knightley and they were based in the capital. According to another adventurer from there, the “higher-ups” had stopped them from participating.

This information had puzzled Ryo. He could understand stopping the knights, but why stop the adventurers? Was it possible that they thought this expedition would fail? Or perhaps it was simply because the annihilation of the Royal Knights meant the capital’s military power had decreased, so they used the A-rank adventurers to shore up its defenses?

It was one mystery after another.

A few minutes later, South Division reached the outer perimeter of the battlefield in a wide-open clearing within the forest. Remaining hidden, they assessed the situation.

“It’s a swamp...” Ryo whispered without thinking.

The adventurers were desperately fighting off long-range attacks from Federation forces. The ground beneath them had turned into mud.

“But this area isn’t a marsh...” Chloe said softly. She hailed from the western part of the Principality and had grown up near this forest, so she knew the region like the back of her hand.

“That has to mean this is a trap laid by the Federation,” Hugh said calmly. “They’d need at least thirty earth magicians to turn that much land into a swamp. Seein’ how it ain’t so easy to get that many together so quick, the ’venturers must’ve been lured here.”

The rest of South Division observed in the same dispassionate manner as the guild master. Although the trapped adventurers were on the receiving end of an onslaught, they had formed a tactical formation to protect their own magicians at the center. They would likely be able to hold out for a while.

“Ryo, search the surroundings. I wanna know the enemy’s positions ’n’ whether or not they have horses.”

“Roger that.”

Ryo focused on his Passive Sonar for a moment.

“They’re divided into two camps, to the north and south of the swamp. Each has roughly two hundred people. I count about the same number of horses on their respective perimeters. No riders, though.”

“No riders? They have no cavalry, then?”

“The people carrying out the long-range attacks must have traveled to the camp on them and left them there,” Ryo guessed.

“Then they must be using the horses for transportation only. Perfect. We’ll rush the southern camp from the flank ’n’ crush ’em. That should be enough for the trapped ’venturers to fight their way outta here. Afterward, we steal those Federation horses ’n’ ride to Fion, where what’s left o’ Inverey’s military is.”

◆

The city of Fion stood in the center of a basin, surrounded to the east and west by hundred-meter-tall mountains and to the south by the Malefic Mountains. The terrain meant a large army could only operate freely in the northern part of the basin. The mountain ranges converged in the north, however, creating a narrow pass that eventually expanded into another basin, which made the region resemble a calabash from above. Undoubtedly, this bottleneck made the land difficult to attack and easy to defend.

“Enemy attack!” a sentry shouted from the watchtower.

Then the bell rang, its call echoing throughout the whole city.

To Inverey’s top military leaders, including Prince Loris, this came as no surprise. Even so, it didn’t stop them from tensing at the news of a large, approaching army.

“Activate Green Storm,” said Meredith, captain of the guard, his order echoing throughout command central.

At the same time, Loris and Knight Commander Stanley arrived.

“Status update?” the latter asked.

“The enemy is just north of the choke point, including the cavalry. At the speed they’re advancing, they’ll be within firing range in a minute,” Meredith replied.

Captain Meredith had been the vice commander of the garrison in Aberdeen, the Principality’s capital. On Garrison Commander Nigel’s orders, he’d spirited the two air magic stones—which were used to fire Green Storm—out of Aberdeen and delivered them safely to Fion. His subsequent promotion to captain of this city’s guard and overseer of Green Storm could easily have seemed like an inevitable result of his deeds.

“Good. Once they’re close enough, wipe them out with an area attack,” the knight commander said casually.

Although Meredith was in charge of Green Storm, those higher up in the chain of command were the actual directors of its operation. On this particular occasion, it fell to the knight commander. Very little decision-making was actually entrusted to Meredith.

But after witnessing the fall of the capital with his own eyes, he couldn’t help voicing his opinion. “Lord Commander,” he said, “it will be dangerous if you allow them to draw too close.”

“While I sympathize with your sentiments, we have a duty here. By defeating a sizable number of them, we can scare them into withdrawing. Not doing so wastes this weapon’s utility.”

The knight commander was right. The enormous disparity in military strength between Inverey and the Federation meant the former’s only hope lay in using Green Storm effectively to turn the tide.

Neither man’s fears came to fruition.

The Federation’s forces halted within the mountain pass, right outside Green Storm’s firing range. Then the army parted down the middle, making way for something to slowly emerge.

“An artificial golem...” Knight Commander Stanley choked out, words barely audible. He had already been informed of how Green Storm’s concentrated attack had had no effect in the capital.

“Meredith!”

Prince Loris’s eyes bored into the captain of the guard, who understood what he left unsaid.

“Yes, Your Serene Highness. Those are the things that Green Storm could not damage.” Meredith had told them the devastating but unvarnished truth upon his arrival, but it bore repeating.

Loris switched his attention to the knight commander, the person in charge. “Stanley, what now?”

He considered their options with a grimace for a moment. “Knowing that Green Storm is ineffective, our only choice is to launch ourselves at them.”

“You believe that will work?”

“I honestly don’t know. But if the knights stake everything they have on this one battle, then perhaps we have a chance...” Stanley wasn’t sure either. Unfortunately, there was no other way.

“All right. I trust you, Stanley,” Loris said.

Then the knight commander bowed to him and left the command center to lead his order himself.

Three minutes later, the city gates opened, and the Principality’s army charged, led by the knights. The Federation’s forces unleashed a hail of arrows, but it didn’t stop or even slow Inverey’s army. In a little over a minute, the knights reached the artificial golems one kilometer away and used their tremendous momentum to shatter the front ranks of the Federation’s army in an instant.

Naturally, cheers immediately erupted in Fion’s command center.

Meanwhile, the Federation troops did their best to endure the aggressive assault. Unfortunately for them, the rest of the Principality’s army soon crashed into them, demonstrating just as much tenacity as the knights had.

Since the start of the war, Inverey had repeatedly retreated as part of its strategy, and thus its troops had never been allowed to engage in full-scale combat. All this time, their frustration had been building.

The command center had only been able to verify the presence of one artificial golem, which Inverey’s soldiers quickly overran in an excellent display of the adage “strength in numbers.” Once the golem was immobilized, the Federation abandoned it in the narrow passage.

Around two thousand of the Principality’s soldiers took part in the charge. Although they were only a fraction of the Federation army, they’d used their momentum and fury to overwhelm their enemy here in the mountain pass.

Inverey’s army eventually drove the Federation forces through the pass completely and back to the basin at the other side. They continued to advance, onward and forward, as their enemy retreated again and again.

After they’d chased the Federation army for some time, some of Inverey’s commanders came to their senses.

“Don’t they seem almost too weak?” someone asked, but the same thought went through everybody’s heads.

Most of the two thousand troops that had sallied out of Fion were already well beyond the choke point and now fighting in the plains to the north. What if a detachment of Federation forces got between them and the choke point, now to their south? The army would be trapped with no way to escape.

As their enthusiasm cooled and rationality returned, the frontline commanders lost the zeal to urge their soldiers to continue the assault. Their subordinates grew keenly aware of the change in their superiors. Even if they didn’t fully understand the worst-case scenario, they were certain their commanders were worried about something.

Morale on the battlefield could be a fickle thing.

Knight Commander Stanley, in charge, couldn’t shake off his growing doubts and finally gave the order.

“Fall back!”

Fortunately, the way through the pass remained open. Inverey’s army had plenty of time, but conducting a sudden retreat was much more difficult than a frenzied charge. Stanley’s soldiers didn’t fully understand why they were retreating, nor did they know how far they would retreat or even how.

Furthermore, the Federation forces were now advancing in an unusually orderly manner. Not forcefully or recklessly. Orderly.

Stanley led the withdrawal while fighting off the Federation forces advancing on the front line. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this battle.

Though well organized, this army’s movements lack sharpness and precision. Are they really being led by the legendary Tactician, Lord Aubrey?

The Principality’s forces steadily retreated through the mountain pass and began approaching Fion. They just might make it out safely.

Then, finally, Stanley himself emerged on the other side of the pass. Since he had brought up the rear, this gave Inverey’s army hope of a successful retreat.

At that moment, Lord Aubrey was observing the battle from afar. Unbeknownst to Stanley, Lord Aubrey’s lips curled into a malicious grin.

Despite Inverey’s withdrawal, fighting hadn’t abated. Both armies had come together in a disorganized melee, forming a blob that slowly drew closer to Fion.

Meredith, captain of the city guard, was the first to realize what was happening. As part of his job, he was responsible for remaining ready to order Green Storm to fire at a moment’s notice. However, the chaos of the current situation meant they would inflict friendly fire if they decided to discharge Green Storm. Even stranger, the confused melee only continued throughout the entirety of Inverey’s retreat through the narrow pass.

“Your Serene Highness, the jumble of enemies and allies means we can’t fire Green Storm.”

Prince Loris of Inverey frowned, confused. “I see no need to fire yet.”

“Yes, my lord, but if we fire, we could kill our own. If this continues, it effectively prevents us from firing until the enemy reaches the city.”

Loris suddenly finally realized the Federation’s true aim.

“A parallel pursuit!”

The city gates stood open to receive Inverey’s retreating army. The Federation’s goal, then, was to pursue Inverey’s forces so closely that they’d hesitate to launch long-range attacks from the city, allowing the Federation to invade Fion.

The strategy would effectively nullify Fion’s greatest combat asset, Green Storm.

Knowing Green Storm was ineffective against artificial golems, the Principality’s army would have no choice but to engage in close-quarters combat. The knights, the most elite and the last line of defense, would likely join too.

The Principality had been dancing to Lord Aubrey’s tune from the beginning. After luring them into the narrow pass, he’d baited them into retreating and then engaged in a parallel pursuit. Disengaging with them during their withdrawal had also been intentional. In fact, he had even purposely allowed their initial charge to succeed...

“Cunning bastard!” Loris ground out in vain.

◆

While the Federation forces pressed the Principality’s army back into Fion, South Division of the Kingdom’s expeditionary force continued its journey on horseback. It was no surprise that C-rank adventurers could ride, even if one water magician among them clung precariously to his horse.

Nevertheless, it was only that same water magician who realized something was amiss. Suddenly, he felt like he was passing through a tiny membrane of air.

“10-Layer Ice Wall Package,” he shouted, covering the entire division in walls of ice.

A split second later, stone spears began slamming into the barriers.

Thwak, thwak, thwak, thwak, thwak, thwak, thwak, thwak...

Under continuous ranged assault, South Division continued through the forest and emerged in a vast grassland. There, they found a force of about a thousand soldiers scrambling to set up an ambush, which they scurried to execute upon their enemy’s abrupt arrival.

Ryo just about tumbled off the horse he’d been clinging to. Beside him, Abel dismounted his own far more elegantly.

Both men stared at the familiar face they’d spotted among the thousands ahead of them. They’d silently decided they would be the ones to face this opponent.

“Hugh, go ahead with everyone else. Take a slight detour. Abel and I are familiar with the Third Federated Independent Battalion,” Ryo said, staring at the enemy. “We’ll handle them.”

“Gents, hope ya didn’t miss the fact there’s a thousand of ’em?” Hugh asked, astonished.

“GuilMas, Lord Aubrey was your nemesis in the Great War, right? Well, it’s the same situation here with me and Ryo. Besides, a thousand’s chump change for Ryo.”

“Abel, are you trying to stick me with the fodder while you deal with the Flame Emperor alone?” Ryo asked with a sigh.

“Yup. Don’t worry, you got this.” Abel grinned.

“Bleedin’ hell, boys,” Hugh groaned, his shock transforming into confusion. “Don’t tell me yer serious...”

The fact remained that the entirety of South Division couldn’t stop, not when the rest of the expeditionary force was struggling to make its way out of the forest.

“Fine. But ya nitwits better not die, ya hear? Don’t care how much o’ a mess ya make o’ yerselves, just make sure ya survive.”

“You got it, boss.”

“Will do.”

Satisfied, Hugh galloped away, the rest of the troops following.

“10-Layer Ice Wall.”

Using his calling card, Ryo blocked the hail of arrows Third Battalion shot at South Division. It was a weak attack considering the battalion’s powerful magicians refused to take their eyes off the two men standing in front of them.

Flamm Deeproad, ever true to his name, glared at Abel with fury blazing in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Abel looked back at him coolly. “To settle things with you, of course, Flame Emperor.”

“Here, Abel. 10-Layer Ice Wall Package. There, now you have space for just the two of you. No need to hold back. Feel free to fight to your heart’s content.”

“Have I ever thanked you for always looking out for me? No? Well, thanks. By the way, Ryo, you’re not seriously gonna fight a thousand people, are you?”

“Are you seriously asking me that now?! After I’ve already committed to taking down seven of the Flame Emperor’s subordinates, all thousand in the Third, and Gray Robe Faust? Unless you want to feel my wrath too, I suggest you finish your fight first, Abel.”

“Yeah, yeah, promises, promises. You just make sure you don’t die.”

“That’s a given. And right back at you, thanks very much.”

The fourth duel between Abel and the Flame Emperor began as Ryo prepared to fight Faust and the Third Federated Independent Battalion.

◆

“Why is the Red Demon Lord here?”

“I thought this lot was supposed to be adventurers from the Kingdom.”

“Does this mean the Red Demon Lord is an adventurer from the Kingdom?”

“Damn it, we’ve been deceived!”

Ryo casually listened to the conversation between the Flame Emperor’s seven subordinates. Apparently, they believed they had been tricked. However, in a world rampant with misunderstanding, the likelier truth was that they’d simply made the wrong assumptions...

“I can’t believe you actually followed us to the battlefield,” Faust called out with a laugh. He wore his usual gray robe. “But I suppose I should be glad for the chance to end this once and for all.”

“You hurt my disciples. Now it’s time you accept your punishment. Oh, and just so you know, I plan to defeat the Flame Emperor’s subordinates and the Third Battalion as well.”

“Oh?! Do tell!” Faust cackled harder.

His subordinates, however, continued to mutter among themselves.

“The entire battalion? How can he say that like a casual afterthought...”

“If we all attack together, we can manage it...”

“Lord Faust is here too!”

Despite their obvious frustration, the Flame Emperor’s subordinates seemed to have hope in the strength of numbers.

Krash.

A dull thump sounded from somewhere behind their forces.

“Ah, I almost forgot to mention,” Ryo said. “I’ve put an ice wall there to stop you from reporting back to your main host.”

“What?!”

“Well, it also means none of you will be escaping,” Ryo taunted, grinning.

It was one man versus a thousand, yet the water magician was so sure of his victory that he’d announced he wouldn’t allow any of them to escape. It defied anybody’s definition of common sense.

Faust and the Flame Emperor’s subordinates, knowing that the water magician before them was an extraordinary opponent and a fearsome wielder of magic, began chanting spells at once.

“Too slow! Icicle Lance 1024.”

Ryo suddenly launched a barrage of ice spears that was immediately followed by the clamor of hard objects colliding, the dull thuds of icy projectiles smashing into leather armor, and a wave of painful gasps across the battlefield.

Only a hundred people fell, meaning ninety percent of the battalion had survived Ryo’s first strike. Suffice it to say, they were an outstanding, well-trained group.

“Don’t underestimate us! Crush with the power of many,” Faust incanted, voice booming.

Then dozens—no, hundreds—of stones flew toward Ryo.

Simultaneously, the Flame Emperor’s subordinates rattled off their own spells. Each one was an area-of-effect attack that the caster had modified, concentrating its diffuse offensive force into a single target: Ryo. Previously, Ryo had blocked their attacks, but this time they timed their spells with Faust’s, so the numbers alone were overwhelming.

“Fire Javelin.”

“Sonic Blade.”

“Stone Rain.”

“Twin Sonic.”

“Drizzle,” Ryo said, countering with the same spell he’d used last time. Drizzle was an inexhaustible, almost invisible series of water shields. When two magical attacks meet, they collide in a brilliant flash of annihilation. The same phenomenon happened with Faust’s stones. The invisible but powerful thick shield of water vapor protected Ryo perfectly.

“Fine! Now it’s our turn!”

If magic didn’t work, then close combat it was. The Red Demon Lord was a magician, after all, and defeating a magician by forcing them into hand-to-hand combat was a tried-and-true strategy. Of the Flame Emperor’s subordinates, a swordsman and a lancer charged Ryo. The nine hundred surviving soldiers of the Third followed suit. They’d survived Ryo’s first strike, which made them the best of the best, capable of slicing through magic with their swords, spears, and such. With so many of them, there was no way that the Red Demon Lord would live to tell his tale.

“You’d be correct,” Ryo said with a faint smile. He drew Murasame and conjured its frosty blade. “Under other circumstances.”

Without hesitation, he rushed the two fighters charging at him.

He parried the lancer and swordsman’s attacks with two flicks of his sword, then used his momentum to plunge straight into the nine hundred soldiers of the Third Federated Independent Battalion.

“Impossible!”

A magician not only wielding a sword at close quarters but doing so competently? They were stunned. With the fight having only just started, they wondered if Ryo was out of mana yet... No, definitely not, especially when they considered how many large-scale spells he’d cast last time.

Smirking, Ryo spun through them like a dancer, swinging his sword relentlessly. His blade barely made contact, yet it knocked each soldier out one by one.

“Icicle Lance 4,” he incanted, using ice spears to deflect swords at point-blank range. Sometimes, the spears struck an enemy in the jaw hard enough to cause a concussion. With their brains so forcibly rattled, the victims couldn’t stand. They’d recover, in time, but the Icicle Lances were fast and heavy. Since force was the sum of mass and speed, those lances—even with blunted tips—were hard on the victims’ jawbones...

One by one, Ryo knocked his opponents unconscious, crushed their bones to render them unable to fight, or immobilized them with ice spears.

Now came the careful part...

“Ice Casket.”

Yeah, you read that right. Instead of using Permafrost to freeze the entire battalion at once, Ryo finished off each individual combatant by freezing them with Ice Casket. It was almost like he was deliberately flaunting his power.

Neither Faust nor the Flame Emperor’s subordinates could launch effective attacks on Ryo because the soldiers of the Third were constantly getting between them and him.

Just like he’d planned. While his movements seemed flashy, it was all carefully orchestrated. Just like the Federation’s parallel pursuit tactic, Ryo was using the enemy as a shield to discourage long-range attacks.

And Faust and the others had taken the bait.

Ryo had prodded them verbally to gain the mental advantage, but really, he had a lot of respect for Faust and the others under the Flame Emperor’s command. Even for Ryo, taking on a thousand soldiers at once was neither safe nor sound logic. Sure, he could win, but the real danger lay in Ryo’s battle fervor. While it usually stayed dormant, it occasionally seduced him into things like confronting a thousand enemies at once.

Or maybe that was just his true nature.

It took Ryo about three minutes to defeat the remaining soldiers of the Third Federated Independent Battalion.

“That quickly?!”

“But we had nine hundred survivors left...”

“The Red Demon Lord is a true terror.”

The Flame Emperor’s seven subordinates muttered among themselves.

Faust was silent, his sneer no longer occupying his face. He’d realized that even if he and Ryo were evenly matched in magical combat, there was a massive disparity in their physical capabilities.

“All right, folks,” Ryo started, turning to the eight. “As you know, I’m an adventurer of Knightley. This carnage was the consequence of your meeting with only one such adventurer.” He puffed out his chest, his expression brimming with confidence. “If by some mistake or other the Federation goes to war with the Kingdom, please inform your leaders of what you just saw so that they stop the war. Otherwise...” Ryo paused to laugh. “This will be the fate of all in Handalieu.”

The eight were completely silent.

Ryo had demonstrated his fighting prowess to such an extent in order to deter future wars. It was also why he’d left the Third alive instead of killing them outright. It hadn’t been out of kindness or optimism. Future generals could emerge from its ranks—some who could become leaders like Lord Aubrey—and Ryo had now instilled in them the fear of fighting the Kingdom. In other words, he’d ensured that news of this horrific experience would spread far and wide. Some might have called it advertising, while others might have called it propaganda.

Ryo didn’t want any personal infamy. He didn’t want tons of people to know about him. But he also knew that if or when they did, he should leverage his fame to the fullest—especially if it could prevent his country from becoming a war zone. He hid what he could without alerting people to his full potential. Once they knew, however, he had no issue dropping all pretense.

Strategies are always evolving. Today’s sound tactics might not be tomorrow’s, and people need to be ready to make that judgment.

Historically, there are two primary reasons a major power may intervene in a war between smaller countries: to test its weapons and to make a show of force. In the latter, the major power attempts to gain an advantageous position in subsequent peace negotiations and demonstrate its strength in the event of war.

War and diplomacy are two sides of the same coin. While both may be ways to resolve political issues, they have tragically different outcomes...

“Even a magician like me can wield a sword. So what do you think a professional like him is capable of?” Ryo pointed toward the battle unfolding within his ice wall between Abel and the Flame Emperor. “If you’re unsure, just watch closely...”

To these mortal soldiers, that duel was close to the apotheosis of swordsmanship.

◆

Let’s turn back the clock a bit.

The battle between Abel and the Flame Emperor was at full throttle from the get-go.

“Morarta, Flame Emperor Unleashed,” Flamm Deeproad said, summoning his magic blade before the fight even began.

Abel cursed internally.

Going with that right from the start, huh?

Because of course he did. Flamm’s weapon became extremely dangerous once unleashed to its full potential, which allowed it to slip quite literally through its opponent’s defenses. It also could materialize at a moment’s notice to parry an enemy’s blade. And it did all this automatically, as if Morarta had a mind of its own.

“Would it make any difference if I called you a cheater for using that?”

“No, because I know you too possess a magic sword, Abel.” The Flame glanced pointedly at Abel’s red, glowing sword. There was no sarcasm in his voice. He was simply stating a fact. “Go ahead and activate it.”

“Unfortunately for me, my buddy here hasn’t accepted me yet, so I can’t do that!”

“A swordsman of your caliber, still ignored by his weapon... Seems that blade is unusually prideful.”

“Is it really? The fact that it’s magical makes it unusual enough, and now you’re telling me it’s got its own sense of pride too?” Abel sighed deeply. He didn’t know anything about his weapon. He had needed one when he left the castle to become an adventurer, and it just so happened to be lying in a forgotten corner of the treasure vault. “Guess I should have listened when I had the chance, huh?”

It was too late for what-ifs, though. In front of him stood Flamm Deeproad, the other champion of the Great War, rumored to have killed a thousand people. What’s more, he had unlocked the full power of his magic sword, Morarta. Abel should have been done for at this point. The only thing left to do was accept his defeat and die.

“Screw it,” Abel said. “Let’s do this.”

Except Abel wasn’t the type to give up. He had fought Flamm three times so far. The first time, he’d lost. The second, he’d won. Their third match had been cut short. And now here was the fourth. So far, he’d seen Morarta’s power twice.

“Perish!”

The Flame Emperor closed the gap between them in a single lunge and swung his sword down. Abel knew if he tried to block Morarta like a normal sword, it would slip through his blade and cleave his skull open in one blow. With that in mind...

Klang.

“Preposterous!”

Abel had parried Morarta. More accurately, he’d parried it in its solid form. Those familiar with Abel’s swordsmanship would have noticed that Abel held his sword much closer to his body than usual—so close that his magic blade and head were almost touching.

“If it senses it’s about to slice through me, it will materialize, right?”

If he blocked Morarta too far from his body, it would slip past his weapon and resolidify before making contact with him to cut him. Thus, he’d kept his sword so close to his body when defending that he’d tricked Morarta into retaking its original form.

Or that, at least, was how Abel envisioned it had worked...

“Abel, you have my respect,” the Flame Emperor growled, glaring at him.

As a peerless swordsman, Flamm Deeproad understood the difficulty of blocking an attack at a point far closer to one’s body than they were accustomed to. One’s muscle memory should have rejected Abel’s positioning immediately, but he’d somehow deliberately suppressed that instinct. Logically, that was the only way to block Morarta... Even though Flamm understood all this, it didn’t change how shockingly difficult it was to pull it off, technically and mentally.

“Then all I have to do is crush your technique and your fortitude.”

And with that, the Flame Emperor began a barrage of attacks. Abel parried all of them, his sword practically touching his skin. If he made even one mistake, it would be over in an instant. As he deflected strikes uncomfortably close to his body, an uncommon dread filled him.

Nevertheless, he remained calm.

“How... How are you able to do this?” the Flame Emperor hissed, his voice strained. He truly couldn’t comprehend the situation. If he’d been in Abel’s shoes, he would have lasted ten strikes at the most, likely less. Regardless of how extraordinary he was or how astonishing his swordsmanship was, such a sustained defense should have been impossible!

“’Cuz I know what ultimate fear is.”

“And what is it?”

“A gryphon landing right in front of you. Nothing’s worse than that.”

“You dare mock me?!” the Flame Emperor spat.

His derision was only natural. Gryphons were creatures of legend. There had been no sightings in the Central Provinces for centuries. If such a creature were to descend in front of your eyes, you would undoubtedly be too terrified to move. It was truly the ultimate fear...

After some time, the Flame Emperor sensed something amiss. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but he knew something about the man in front of him, the man who continued to defend against his attacks, had changed.

“Is it just my imagination, or are you improving?” he said.

Through repetition, a person could optimize their technique and eliminate the extraneous. In other words, repetition refined them. And by this point, Abel’s defense was honed.

Skilled swordsmen perfected their defenses through constant repetition and muscle memory. It started the moment they picked up a sword in the form of kata, a sequence of positions and movements in martial arts, allowing them to eventually react without even needing to think about defending themselves. That was defense.

At the same time, though, there was no further evolution. It was one thread among many, including both offensive and defensive combos, that together formed the tapestry of one’s “swordsmanship.” It never needed to be more than that because defense didn’t defeat opponents—offense did.

But Abel’s defense was on the brink of evolving. Parrying Flamm’s sword at such an unnaturally close distance to his body defied normal experience. After all, in any other situation but this one—where he was defending himself against the magic sword Morarta—he didn’t need to change his defensive strategy. At first, Abel had to deliberately analyze the situation and carefully thrust his sword each time he wanted to block Morarta’s attacks.

However, at some point in the fight, that began to change.

He’d fought the Flame Emperor three times before; he knew his swordsmanship. Yet, after a while, keeping his sword close to his body came second nature. Why? Because he’d been swinging his sword practically every day since childhood. He never neglected the basics, the fundamentals, and that overwhelming effort had saved Abel’s neck on more than one occasion, including unusual situations such as this. Hard work never betrayed you. Although his defense might have kept him alive by the skin of his teeth in his previous fights with Flamm, he’d optimized it through effort, giving him some breathing room.

And now that breathing room had opened a window of opportunity for a counterattack.

“You... You... What the hell are you?” The words fell unbidden from the Flame Emperor’s mouth. Instead of anger, they were now laced with fear. He had realized he was facing something beyond his comprehension...

When one’s will wavered, so did their sword. An unsteady mind created unsteady strikes, and suddenly that window of opportunity grew a little wider.

And when that happened...

Skrrrsh.

The Flame Emperor’s sword scraped against his opponent’s. Abel had been simply blocking all his blows, but now he angled his blade and pushed. Stepping forward at the same instant, he slashed upward, slicing off Deeproad’s right arm. The limb went flying with Morarta still in its grip.

“Ngh!”

Flamm wasted no time drawing a dagger with his left hand, but Abel had anticipated that too.

Klang.

He sent the knife hurtling aside and pressed his blade against Flamm Deeproad’s neck.

“What are you waiting for?! Kill me!” he shouted.

Silent, Abel took a steadying breath. The reality was, he’d been fighting at his physical and mental limits. He longed for a glass of water, but Ryo, who always gave him said glass of water, was still battling his own opponent on the other side of the ice wall.

“Flame Emperor, you’re the commanding officer here, right? Of the Third Independent Battalion or whatever. We both know the leader can’t die until the denouement. They’re still duking it out over there, so don’t surrender just yet. That water magician has to finish taking down your buddy. Faust, was it? If you make me chase you now, things will get even worse. So let’s take a breather and enjoy the show, yeah?”

Meanwhile, the spectators watching the duel unfold from the other side of the ice wall muttered among themselves in utter confusion.

“This can’t be happening, right?”

“Lord Flamm... He’s...”

“What should we do?”

The Flame Emperor’s subordinates were stunned.

“Nothing for us to do,” said the gray-robed Faust Fanini. “They’re not our problem. Isn’t that right, water magician? After all, your intent is to kill us, isn’t it?”

“Nothing gets past you, huh, Faust?” Ryo concurred. After all, he had come all this way to punish the man who had hurt his students. Even if Abel defeated their commanding officer, that had nothing to do with his own agenda.

Listening to their conversation, six of the others sucked in a sharp, collective breath, looking gobsmacked. The seventh, a woman, was the only one who didn’t smile or give in to despair.

She stared resolutely back at Ryo.

“We’ll fight too! We won’t cower!”

She was a magician with long brown hair tied up in a ponytail. Ryo remembered her—the air magician who had cast Bullet Rain the first time he fought her superior, the Flame Emperor.

“But, Amelia, have you forgotten that Bullet Rain doesn’t work on the Red Demon Lord?” said a small redhead standing next to her.

If Ryo’s memory served right, she had used fire magic back then.

For whatever reason, Amelia’s gaze shifted to Faust. “I haven’t, Nilde. Which is why I’m going to use Tempest this time.”

“You mustn’t!” Nilde cried out, shaking her head vehemently. “Your heart will explode if you do. And it requires too much mana for one person to unleash. The spell is listed as a forbidden one in texts for a reason. Just because it’s theoretically possible doesn’t mean people can actually use it!”

Ryo cocked his head thoughtfully.

If no one can use it, how do they know the heart will explode?

Obviously, the fighting had stopped during all this. If all Ryo wanted was victory, he could press the attack and secure triumph. But success alone was meaningless. He had to force Faust to repent and make it unequivocally clear to the thousand soldiers of the Third Battalion watching from within their ice caskets that they absolutely did not want to go to war with the Kingdom he and Abel belonged to.

And that was why he was grateful that his opponents planned to use their greatest attack. Because when he inevitably repelled it, it would do wonders for his plan. He waited patiently for their conversation to end, but he honestly didn’t know how to feel about the magician using a spell that would cost her life... Not to mention the name of said spell...

“‘Tempest’ means storm, right? Also, the name of one of Shakespeare’s plays... First Bullet Rain and now Tempest. Whoever named these must have been a reincarnate...” Ryo muttered, voice so low that his opponents, busy arguing with each other, didn’t hear it.

“You’re right. One person’s mana isn’t enough.” Amelia responded, her eyes still fixed on Faust.

With a small shake of his head, Faust took something out of his robe and tossed it at her.

“Use it.”

It was a green magic stone, roughly half the size of a fist.

“Through alchemy, it’s been imbued with the equivalent of an individual’s mana supply. That should be plenty for your purposes.”

Amelia caught the stone and inclined her head in acknowledgment.

Faust looked back at Ryo. “I assume you arrived at some sort of understanding after what just transpired?”

“Of course. Now I have a theory of why you didn’t run out of mana last time. You have a huge stock of mana-infused magic stones inside that robe, don’t you? Some of them are probably as big as the one you just gave to her, but I’d guess most are small.”

Then Ryo showed him a small yellow magic stone pinched between his fingers: the same one Faust had dropped after their previous battle.

“The idea is simple but extremely effective. Many people should have already thought of it, but the lack of recorded applications must mean executing it properly is incredibly difficult, even with the aid of alchemy. I’d say it’s proof that you’re a high-level alchemist.”

Ryo’s admiration was genuine. Considering what Faust had done to his disciples, the man lacked any sort of humanity. But his estimation as an alchemist was a different matter altogether. Even Ryo understood that.

“Still, I can’t condone your actions.”

“Then what will you do?”

“What else? Destroy you. Even your own mother won’t be able to recognize you when I’m through with you.” A faint smile accompanied Ryo’s declaration of war.

Amelia had already started chanting the necessary incantation, which sounded as long as or perhaps even longer than the one for Bullet Rain. The other six stood on guard around her. They didn’t attack Ryo because they knew no matter what they tried, it wouldn’t work.

“I promise not to attack so long as you don’t.”

His words surprised them.

“But if you do, I will counter. When that happens, I’ll crush her too, and that will put a stop to her chanting, won’t it? So I suggest you watch meekly from over there. What do you say?”

The six people looked at each other. Then Nilde, the redheaded fire magician, nodded, acting as their representative.

“Excellent. All right, Faust, you’ll be kind enough to keep me company until she finishes her incantation and casts Tempest on me, yes?”

“Do my ears deceive me, or are you implying that you see fighting me as simply a means of killing time?”

“Care to prove me wrong?”

“Fascinating!”

Thus began the second magical battle between Ryo and Faust.

“Crush with the power of many.”

“Drizzle.”

Ryo countered Faust’s overwhelming onslaught of rocks with his drizzle. The light of annihilation sparked in the space between them.

“I know how powerful your offense is, but what about your defense? Icicle Lance 128.”

“Don’t underestimate me! Cover.”

Ice spears hurtled down on Faust from almost the entire sky, but he blocked them with a stone shield.

“You aren’t even going to try to intercept them one at a time?”

“Stop speaking in riddles! Say what you mean!”

“Fine. Your magical control is weak.”

The moment Ryo answered him, his ice spears stopped falling in straight lines and began weaving erratically around Faust’s stone shield.

“Damn you! Slam.”

Faust started generating a sequence of small earth walls to intercept each ice spear. The light of annihilation flashed in the space between them, sometimes driven by Faust’s offense and Ryo’s defense, other times by Ryo’s offense and Faust’s defense. Six of the Flame Emperor’s subordinates stood there with their mouths agape. Only Amelia remained focused on chanting the incantation for the Tempest spell with her eyes closed.

“See? You can do it if you put your mind to it. However, the density of your frontal assault has waned.”

“It’s about time I knocked you off that high horse! Smash.”

“Then I’ll just have to return the favor with another round of Drizzle.”

The sparks of annihilation burned even brighter now between them, searing the eyes of anyone watching. The whole time, Ryo relentlessly pelted his opponent with his Icicle Lance saturation attack, while Faust continuously rebuilt his earth barriers.

“Oh, look, the intensity of your frontal assault has fallen even more. I’m guessing you’ve reached your limit?”

“You bastard...”

“In that case, how about another switch between offense and defense? Abrasive Jet 256.”

“Ngh! Guard.”

While maintaining Drizzle, Ryo launched streams of water directly at Faust, who instinctively protected himself with walls of earth. Unfortunately for him, the abrasives in Ryo’s water jets meant they cut through earth fast. After penetrating several layers of stones, the water streams lost momentum and disappeared as they annihilated one layer after another.

Faust found himself depleting an astonishing amount of mana as he simultaneously defended against attacks from the front and above, but he could do nothing but continue protecting himself against the attacks with seemingly no end in sight.

The ensuing outcome was obvious.

“Blast it!”

The last stone walls vanished, and he couldn’t create a new one to counter Ryo’s ice spears. Faust collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, visibly at the cusp of mana exhaustion.

“Did you know that a small fraction of people get headaches right before they run out of mana? Looks like you’re one of the unlucky few. Your head must be pounding,” Ryo said blithely. Then he paused. “You’re experiencing the same pain you forced my students to endure. I returned the favor. Consider it your penance.”

“Why—” Faust gasped hoarsely.

“Yes?” Ryo prompted him, unsure what he was trying to ask.

“Why aren’t you out of mana?”

Faust had used up all of his mana and the mana in the magic stones attached to his body, yet Ryo stood there showing no signs of mana depletion, despite their drawn-out, head-on battle. This was extraordinary, even for a man known as the Red Demon Lord.

“You don’t understand the nature of magic.”

“What the hell are you—”

“There is no way to create using only the magical energy inside the body. There was a time when I myself believed it too. I also wondered if mana was the result of some interaction with a substance floating in the air. But neither explanation accounts for the fact that magicians can just create matter. For example, ice or stone. That reality means a breakdown in the law of conservation of energy and the theory of relativity.”

From Faust’s expression, you would have thought Ryo was speaking a foreign language. He understood the words, but he couldn’t make sense of them. But, really, who could have blamed him? If he didn’t know that energy equals mass times the speed of light squared, how could he even begin to understand what Ryo was talking about?

“Therefore, the only conclusion I’ve reached is that none of us, not me or you, produce magic using the magical energy in our bodies alone. While it’s possible some new theory emerges that doesn’t break the law of conservation of energy or the theory of relativity, I’m personally not there yet. What I have so far can’t even be considered a real hypothesis. It’s more like a hunch, really.”

At this point, Ryo felt the familiar surge of magical power that occurred before a user generated magic and remembered he’d left a loose end...

“I believe she’s almost done reciting the incantation,” he said, looking at Amelia.

Sweat beading across her brow, she continued chanting. Then at long last, she reached the final part.

“This rough magic I here abjure.”

“That’s a line straight from The Tempest,” Ryo muttered to himself. “I knew it. Whoever created that spell must have been a Shakespeare fan.”

“Tempest.”

The moment Amelia uttered the trigger word, a vacuum formed around Ryo.

A second later, it imploded.

“That’s—”

“Tempest...”

The explosion’s shock wave kicked up a storm of dust, obscuring whatever was happening within the dome-like vacuum from the spectators. Despite the inward force of the imploding spell, it didn’t take long for the aftershocks to hit them either. Eventually, however, the swirling cloud of dust began to settle...

“What is that?”

“A block of ice?”

“It can’t be...”

A block of ice the size of a person stood in the center of the dome, resembling one of the thousands of frosty coffins scattered over the battlefield.

Then the block melted, and a man in a robe emerged.

“I definitely didn’t expect that! You created a vacuum, no? Then compressed it with external airflow to make a sort of pseudo implosion... I’m familiar with the abilities of the giant pistol shrimp’s claws, but this is astounding in comparison.”

He approached the Flame Emperor’s subordinates with his usual nonchalance.

None of them stopped the robed water magician known as Ryo because, deep down, they knew they couldn’t.

“How are you still alive?” they murmured.

“So this is the true power of the Red Demon Lord...”

Five of them stared in shock while Amelia lay collapsed on the ground. The other, Nilde, knelt next to her, crying.

Ryo placed his right hand on Amelia’s abdomen. When he did, Nilde’s eyes widened in surprise. But Ryo only inclined his head, conveying his intention not to desecrate the corpse with a single, gentle nod.

“Her heart has ruptured,” he muttered.

Water made up sixty percent of an adult’s body. Two-thirds of that water was inside the cells. The remaining third lay in the body’s intercellular fluid and blood, which meant...

“As a water magician, I should be able to force the blood to flow...”

He circulated blood throughout Amelia’s body.

“It’s been less than a minute since her heart stopped, so her brain should be okay... I think. All that’s left is to... Um, Miss Red-haired Fire Magician?” Ryo said to Nilde, still kneeling next to Amelia.

“Huh? Yes?” She looked up, startled to find Ryo talking to her.

“Her heart has ruptured, but I’m using my magic to circulate blood throughout her body, so I may be able to revive her. A genius alchemist I know gave me an excellent potion, which I’ll pour directly on her heart. In order to do so, I’m going to cut through her clothes and skin. Is that all right?”

“Sh-She’ll come back to life?” Nilde asked in utter disbelief, glancing between Ryo and Amelia.

“I can’t guarantee it, but it can’t hurt to try.”

“Please. Do what you need to.”

Ryo nodded upon hearing her reply.

“Water Jet.”

First, he sliced open the clothing around her chest. Then, wielding the stream of water like a scalpel, he cut an incision from her nape to navel and then did the same to her sternum, the long, large bone beneath. Ryo was performing a median sternotomy, something he’d seen on a medical drama back on Earth. This way, he could reach the heart without damaging the lungs, expose the damaged tissue, and pour the potion accurately and quickly.

“Ice Creation: Chest Surgery Kit.”

Using a series of surgical tools made out of ice, Ryo shifted the bones and muscles, revealing the hole in the heart, which was coated with a thin layer of ice. Ryo took out the potion and poured half of it on the heart. A faint light pulsed, then the heart was repaired. But it refused to pump. Ryo placed his hands on his chest to find the rhythm of his own heartbeat, then focused. After a while, the icy film covering Amelia’s heart began to beat to the same cadence...

“It— It’s beating...”

“I declare the ice cardiac massage a resounding success,” Ryo said, beaming.

The only thing left now was to reverse the process. He closed the bones, sprinkled more of the potion, closed the skin, dripped a little more potion... Finally, he took Amelia’s pulse, confirmed she was alive, and nodded.

“She’s back with the living,” he said with a smile.

“Oh... Oh my goodness...” Nilde sobbed.

As if taking that as her cue, Amelia opened her eyes.

“I’m so glad... I’m so glaaad...” Nilde howled.

Meanwhile, Amelia looked at Nilde, her face crumpled as she wept. Then she looked at the Red Demon Lord, standing there smiling. From a distance, the other five of the Flame Emperor’s subordinates watched her with concern.

“Did Tempest...fail?”

“Nooo, you succeeded. You died because you succeeded, Ameliaaa!” Nilde explained tearfully.

But Amelia remained confused. If she’d succeeded, why was the Red Demon Lord still alive? Why was she still alive?

“Ah, that’s right. Ice Wall, Release,” Ryo said, dispelling the icy enclosure around Abel and the Flame Emperor. Then he stood.

Flamm Deeproad immediately rushed over. “Amelia!”

“Lord Flamm... I’m sorry...”

“Stop. Just rest.”

Evidently, the Flame Emperor was kind to his subordinates.

“I guess she wouldn’t have risked her life to cast that kind of magic if they didn’t actually care about him, huh?” Abel whispered to Ryo.

“Uh, time to consider our next move. For our group’s surprise attack to work, we need to stop these people. I can do that by freezing them...”

“You sure you should be doing that to someone whose heart just restarted?”

“Good point. Then why don’t I surround them with ice walls? If I make it about three hundred layers deep, we should be able to buy Hugh and the others quite a bit of time.”

“Wh-Whoa, you can do that many? Ten, sure, but three hundred?”

“I just have to create thirty of the ten-layer version. Simple, right?”

With that, Ryo enclosed the Flame Emperor, his seven subordinates, and Faust inside three hundred walls made of ice.

“I’ll free you later tonight, so I’d appreciate it if you quietly remained inside until then,” he said.

The Flame Emperor nodded in response. He had accepted defeat.

“It seems the swordsmen around here are quite gracious in their defeat,” Ryo hummed, pretending to talk to himself. “The mark of a real swordsman, don’t you think?” He glanced pointedly at Abel, confirming that it was no monologue.

“That last part is a jab at me, isn’t it?”

“Nooo. Why would you think that?”

“Yeah, yeah. So what if I’m a bad loser? That’s just how adventurers are.”

“Defensive, aren’t we? Very typical of you, Abel.”

“Dunno why. Maybe all the bullcrap that comes out of your mouth makes me feel like I’m losing my mind?”

“Well, maybe if you were actually a decent person...”

“Takes one to know one, right? Does that mean I should keep better company?”

“Anywaaay. I’m just glad this is settled. Done and dusted, once and for all.”

“Yup, for both of us.”

Then the two of them bumped their fists together.

Just when it seemed like everything was over, they soon realized things were only beginning.

“We’re linking up with the others.”

“I’m a little tired, so I suggest we power walk...”

“Is that code for run?”

They started heading toward the main battlefield to the south.

“Didn’t you just cut open that air magician’s chest?”

“I did. She used some crazy magic capable of making the caster’s heart explode.”

“Meaning she tried to kill you, right?”

“Yes, but... It would be one thing to defeat her in battle after she gave everything she had. However, killing herself with her own magic is another thing entirely. I don’t like that.”

Ryo knew he was just being smug, that this was the height of hypocrisy. What did it matter, though? In the end, life was just a series of self-satisfying experiences. So he didn’t think there was any need to worry about it.

“The fact that you poured a potion on an organ inside the human body tells me you know a lot about anatomy, huh?”

“When you kill monsters, you extract their magic stones, don’t you? You eat meat too, so you must know plenty about their bodies. It’s basically like that.”

“Except I can’t even imagine cutting open a person’s chest to save them,” Abel said with a shake of his head.

Ryo tilted his head slightly, “Well, I studied history, which means I read up on all kinds of things. It was only natural I’d know.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you researched the human body while studying history? Seriously?”

“History spans the entire scope of human experience, from humans’ first steps, the creation of the written word, and the present. It makes sense for medicine to fall somewhere within that, don’t you think? Plus, politics, economics, mathematics, and physics all fall under the umbrella of history too.”

“If you say so...”

“In other words, the entire universe is the subject of study. That’s history.” Though Ryo laughed, there was no doubt in his voice.

“And that’s also why I’m researching the ten-dimensional, simultaneous, second-order, nonlinear, partial differential equation.”

“What in the hell did you just say? I don’t think I’d understand that even if you wrote it down.”

“The most famous is Professor Einstein’s equation for gravity. If I use that as a stepping stone, I think I can discover what magic—no, mana. I believe I can discover the true nature of mana.”

“Mana’s true nature, huh... Old man Hilarion’s been researching the truth about magic his whole life, but I’ve never heard anyone studying mana. Got any clues yet?”

“Not yet. Someday, though. Someday,” Ryo said, excited.

He had originally wanted to go into theoretical physics, but serendipity had led him to study history. As a lover of both science and social studies, he didn’t consider them that different, but he certainly hadn’t expected he’d wind up running a business instead.

Then Abel blinked like he’d just remembered something. “What are you gonna do about the thousand or so people you froze?”

“Should I free them at the same time as the Flame Emperor and the others? Since the plan is to let them go by nightfall, they should have plenty of time to recover with Extra Heal.”

“Ohhh, right. You can undo your ice even from a distance.”

“It is a strange phenomenon, isn’t it?” Ryo cocked his head thoughtfully. “I’ve always wondered about that, you know. My Ice Casket spell is easy to understand, but once I use it to freeze someone, they remain frozen even if I move far away. It’s almost like some magical tether connects it to me... Perhaps that means mana is being supplied the entire time, which lets me thaw a casket from a distance?”

“But even you must have some kind of maximum range, right?”

“Of course. Right now, it’s about four hundred meters. My target has to be within that range when I cast a spell. That discrepancy’s why I became curious about the relationship between magic and distance in the first place.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

The fact that his spells, which could only activate on targets within four hundred meters, could sustain themselves after he’d left the original range limit was a mystery for the ages.

“Which brings us back to the ten-dimensional, simultaneous, second-order, nonlinear, partial differential equation.”

“Right, the thing I wouldn’t get even if you wrote it out for me.”

“Simply put, it’s an equation that unifies gravity, space, and mass. In the standard E=mc2, mass and energy are different forms of the same fundamental thing. From this, we can derive a new equation that expresses the relationship between energy and gravity instead. But I can’t solve my grand theory myself. Let’s work on it together, Abel.”

“No, thanks.”

“Why not?! If we solve and understand it, we’ll be one step closer to illuminating the depths of magic...”

“Solving it only gets you a step closer? That’s it?” Abel sighed, imagining the length of the road ahead. No achievement was easy.

“Yes. In my opinion, an expression of the equation that describes the relationship between energy and gravity wouldn’t factor in mana. Why? Because here, we’re working with four properties, not three. If only Professor Einstein had lived a little longer... Ah, well, it is what it is. Solving this equation means discovering a new solution, and that means etching our names in history. That’s what’s at stake here.”

“Now I’m even more determined not to touch any of that with a ten-foot pole.”

“When I reach the hypothesis stage, I’ll teach you about mana. On that day, I’ll make you eat your words, Abel.”

“Back to speaking a foreign language, huh? Fine. When that day comes, just make sure you dumb things down so I can understand what the hell you’re talking about, okay?”

Finally, Earth’s theoretical physics and Phi’s magic were beginning to overlap...

Assault on the Main Host

At the time, Lord Aubrey and the other Federation commanders were directing the main host’s operations on the plain north of the choke point. He sensed something off farther north, in the army’s rear guard, but he heard neither screams nor any other commotion. But as a veteran of many battles, he knew to trust his instincts. He should have been hearing noises and voices, but where were they?

No one else noticed anything amiss, but split-second decisions could make the difference between victory and defeat in war.

Something’s not right, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. This is a battlefield, so if something’s amiss, it must be because of an enemy attack.

Having arrived at his conclusion, he stood up from his chair and shouted.

“Enemy attack! Assume defensive formation!”

At Lord Aubrey’s command, his subordinates immediately sprang into action. These particular captains had been fighting under his command before he’d become the Federation’s chancellor a decade ago. They exited their tents surrounding the main encampment and gave orders to their troops.

They didn’t understand exactly what was happening or what would happen, but Lord Aubrey’s words were enough. If he believed the enemy was on the move, then they would attack from somewhere, and the main host would be embroiled. Since they didn’t know where it was coming from, they had to be ready to intercept in all directions.

◆

With Hugh McGlass and the guide Chloe in the lead, South Division of the Kingdom’s expeditionary force rode south on horseback. The Federation forces weren’t nearly as concentrated in this direction, likely because the elite Third Federated Independent Battalion was deployed there. Still, that didn’t mean a complete absence of the enemy, so they advanced without delay, eliminating as many foes as they could as quietly as possible.

But there was a limit to how much they could do.

“Enemy attack!”

The shout came from ahead.

The moment South Division heard those words, it broke into a full-speed gallop. Now that its surprise attack had been sniffed out, it was a race against time.

Its target was the enemy’s main encampment—more specifically, Lord Aubrey. Everyone understood that there was no other way to turn the tide. Perhaps the Federation wouldn’t withdraw from Inverey even after Lord Aubrey’s defeat, but they could maneuver more effectively if the enemy didn’t have its supreme commander. Never mind them being hopelessly outnumbered... That was just how absolute Aubrey’s presence was.

Just as absolute as McGlass, the Kingdom’s champion. And so, South Division began engaging in full-scale combat.

After finishing their fight against the Third, two men went off in pursuit of South Division.

“Abel, the fighting has started.”

“Well, yeah. It is a battlefield.”

“You’re late.”

“And you aren’t?”

“Honor is bestowed upon swordsmen who lead the charge. Those who arrive late to the party are worthless.”

“Thanks for sharing. I’m safe, then, since I led the charge against the Flame Emperor.”

“Always ready with a retort, aren’t you? Just so you know, no one likes smart-aleck adventurers.”

“And just so you know, people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones!”

While bantering, the pair continued their brisk jog south. Then, out of nowhere, they saw a figure hurtling through the sky.

“Huh?” they said in unison, surprised.

The person didn’t look like they were flying of their own volition; in fact, they’d almost certainly been blasted into the air. The person was Rah, a vanguard swordsman from the C-rank party Switchback who boasted an intimidating physique over 185 centimeters tall. Watching him soar through the air was an absurd sight, to say the least.

Ryo and Abel ran toward the spot Rah landed. There was no one around the unconscious man. His comrades had surrounded the enemy who’d sent him flying.

Abel forcefully poured a potion into Rah’s mouth. Observing from the side, Ryo briefly worried that it might end up in his windpipe... If it had been a normal drink, that would have been a huge problem. Thankfully, they had nothing to worry about since it was a potion, which the body could absorb regardless of where it was applied. The important thing was to get the liquid into the body.

Or not.

Two seconds later, Rah woke in a fit of coughing... Apparently, it had flowed down his trachea instead of his esophagus.

“Rah, can you hear me?” Abel asked, showing no indication that he noticed Rah choking.

Ryo was initially amazed by Abel’s nerve, then realized Abel had likely just overlooked Rah’s hacking. After all, his friend had been an adventurer for a long time, and these things happened.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Abel... Wait! The others!”

“They’re fighting not far from here,” Ryo answered.

He looked aside where, a short distance away, the rest of Switchback and another party were confronting something.

“Please, help them. I’ll be there as soon as I can move again.”

“You got it,” Abel replied, and the two of them headed toward Switchback.

“What is that?”

From the waist up, it looked human, with two arms and a head. Below, however, it had four legs. It was obviously an artificial something.

“Abel... I don’t even recognize you...” Ryo wailed, covering his eyes.

“I’m standing beside you, asshole,” Abel snapped.

The idea of four legs and a humanoid torso might conjure the image of a centaur. Unfortunately, the artificial thing in front of them was decidedly not that.

The thing’s limbs resembled an arachnid’s legs rather than the legs of any quadrupedal animal. If it had had eight, Ryo might have pictured Arachne from Greek mythology, a woman with a humanoid upper body and spiderlike lower body. However, this artificial creature was nowhere near lifelike, its surface seemingly metallic and incredibly hard.

Sue, Switchback’s scout, noticed them approaching. “Abel! Ryo! You went after Rah, right? How is he?”

“He’s fine. We gave him a potion and he woke right up. He’ll be back soon. More importantly, this is—”

“Almost certainly a golem.”

Acray’s guild master, Landenbier, and that city’s C-rank party Six Flowers, which consisted of six people—as its name suggested—faced the creature alongside Switchback. In other words, even with ten of them, they were struggling to fight it off.

But that didn’t concern Ryo, who was far more concerned with what Landenbier had said: a golem. Ryo had seen a wild golem before. In fact, he’d fought several of them with Abel in the Forest of Rondo. No matter how you’d cut it, though, those things had been nothing more than rocks. However, the thing in front of them reminded Ryo of a robot or some other type of lifelike machine in spite of its four legs.

“Abel, it’s completely different from the rocks we saw. Now this is what I call a golem!”

“Just this once, I get where you’re coming from and actually agree. They say there’s an army of artificial golems in the west, powered by alchemy.”

No one could miss how Ryo’s body visibly trembled. The expression on his face was a mixture of excitement and, for some reason, regret. He was thrilled to see an artificial golem with his own eyes, but why the regret? Well, he’d been beaten to the punch. What punch? Being the first to create a golem in the Central Provinces! He hadn’t actually believed he’d been on the cusp of creating one, but he’d been close enough, albeit unaware of it. Of course, objectively speaking, with the level of his alchemy, that goal had been a long way off anyway... Let’s just keep that a secret.

Ryo took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Even Kenneth said that it was impossible to create a golem...”

Ryo regarded Baron Kenneth Hayward, one of the Kingdom’s genius alchemists and the chief researcher at the Royal Center for Alchemy, as his mentor.

“I bet. It’s different from normal alchemy. Having said that, I’ve never heard of anyone in the Central Provinces successfully making one.”

“Does this mean we’re already falling behind in the information war?” Ryo shook his head in despair. Then, he scrutinized the golem before him, paying close attention to its four legs.

Had it been difficult to make one that walked bipedally? Even on modern Earth, bipedal robots require highly advanced technology to maintain balance. Perhaps this was where the creation of an artificial golem differed from normal alchemy. Making the sensors and gyroscopes needed to balance the body wasn’t easy, even with the magic that existed in Phi, so making it quadrupedal instead of bipedal made much more sense.

“Hey, Abel, how about you avenge Rah and challenge it to a duel?”

“Why is it always me? Besides, this isn’t something you can fight one-on-one.”

“And you have the audacity to call yourself a B-rank adventurer?! Aren’t you the least bit upset that Rah was blown away? Don’t you have any pride as a swordsman?”

“Yes, no, and no.” Abel completely ignored Ryo’s provocation.

It was easy to imagine the specimen’s strength, seeing how it had blasted a fighter of Rah’s caliber away. And, honestly, anyone would avoid fighting it at melee range.

Ryo surveyed his allies surrounding the golem. Acray’s Six Flowers was a very unusual party comprising a swordsman, a shield bearer, a priest, and three magicians who excelled at ranged attacks. What’s more, the former B-rank adventurer and Acray’s current guild master, the fire magician Landenbier, was also present. Apart from its scout, Sue, Switchback also included the air magician, Tan, and the priest, Nuda. With so many magicians, the fight had become a mini siege, so it made sense they kept the golem at a distance.

However, they should have had an arsenal of offensive spells on their side, but Ryo came to a realization that Ash, the fire magician of Six Flowers, soon confirmed.

“None of our magics work...” she murmured, looking back at the golem. “It’s blocked everything we’ve thrown at it: fire, wind, and earth—all our offensive spells.”

“Specifically, it used a Magical Barrier to do so, an incredibly tough one,” Landenbier added. “It even blocked my Fire Javelin.”

Ryo didn’t know what a Magical Barrier was, but he got the gist from context.

“Meaning the only thing we haven’t tried yet is water magic, hm?” Ryo nodded to himself. “Here I go, then. Icicle Lance.”

An ice spear flew toward the golem.

Krak.

It struck an invisible wall in front of the golem, and the spear and wall disappeared with the usual flash of annihilation.

“Ugh... I can’t penetrate it,” Ryo said, frustrated.

“No, but...the Magical Barrier vanished,” Nash, air magician and middle sister of the trio in Six Flowers, pointed out.

A second later, however, the Magical Barrier reconstructed itself.

“Well, that was quick. I really shouldn’t be surprised, though,” Ash remarked.

Ryo couldn’t see it, but some experienced magicians could sense the presence of this particular type of barrier.

“Maybe we shouldn’t ignore this...” Nash murmured.

“At first glance, it doesn’t seem like it can attack from a distance... But the moment you turn your back, it strikes,” Landenbier said, bringing up the most pressing problem.

“So we need to keep it moving somehow. And by somehow, I mean water magic,” Abel said suggestively.

“I don’t understand your implication...”

“You immobilized a thousand people.”

“I was just helping them rest. They needed a breather. A bit of compulsory humanitarian aid, so to speak.”

“Now look who’s spouting complete crap.” Abel shook his head, not even bothering to try making sense of Ryo’s nonsensical explanation.

While lamenting the complexity of language, Ryo mulled over his friend’s suggestion. He might actually be good at slowing things down.

“All right, I suppose I’ll give it a try... Ice Bahn.”

Ryo usually stopped something with Ice Bahn, a versatile ground-freezing spell that could be used against land targets lacking long-range attacks. The ground froze over, and the golem’s feet slipped. It couldn’t move even if it wanted to. However, its four legs prevented it from outright falling. If it had been normal ice, it could have possibly moved by hooking its sharp toes into the ice, but Ryo’s special ice was as hard as his Ice Wall—which meant it was very hard.

Rah finally made it back to them. “Oh?” he hummed.

The entire group exchanged glances that said, We can do this! Then, for some reason, everyone started inching away from the golem. Ryo did his best not to take his eyes off it, which was why he noticed something suddenly appear in its open palms.

“Electrical discharge?” he muttered.

The next instant, the golem stretched out its arms and shone the white light between its hands on the ice under its feet. Then, the ice began to melt.

“No way...”

Even though it was happening before his eyes, Ryo couldn’t believe it. He had never seen Ice Bahn broken or melted before. It’d happened to his Ice Walls lots of times, but Ryo didn’t think far enough ahead to make that connection at that moment. The only thing on his mind was warning his allies, who were creeping backward.

“The golem is moving! Run!”

Hearing his voice, Six Flowers and Landenbier looked at the golem, then started running. Not a single person in Switchback had looked back.

“Ice Wall.”

Ryo created a barrier in front of the golem to buy time while running away. Abel followed right beside him. Ryo glanced back and, sure enough, the golem was melting the ice wall with the white light between its hands. The light had no ranged attack power, yet it nevertheless melted through each layer of ice one by one, chipping away at the distance between it and Ryo’s comrades so slowly that they were able to put some distance between it and them. It would catch up with them eventually, but until then, he’d focus on making sure the others didn’t get too sluggish.

Such was the rude thought that ran through his head.

I really wish I could get my hands on that golem...

◆

“So this is the main camp, eh?” Hugh McGlass muttered.

He was alone. Just a few seconds earlier, Coffee Maker, the last party in his unit to arrive, had joined the fight against the Federation soldiers, who were likely Lord Aubrey’s personal guard. Although Coffee Maker had only just been promoted to C-rank, its members had plenty of experience as bodyguards and escorts, so they let Hugh ride ahead as they engaged the enemy.

After finding the tent, Hugh slipped inside with his sword in hand.

“So,” he said, looking at the man sitting within, “we finally meet, Aubrey.”

It was Lord Aubrey, supreme commander of the Federation forces and leader of Handalieu.

“You arrived much faster than I expected, Hugh McGlass. Impressive.”

“High praise from the Tactician himself. Guess I should be honored.”

Even as they exchanged verbal jabs, Hugh, ever vigilant, drew closer to Lord Aubrey.

“Frankly speaking, even if you defeat me now, it will not change the course of the war. I’m sure you’re already aware.”

“Yeah, I am. But if we wanna save the Principality, this is our only way to turn the tables. All our other choices are pointless. Takin’ ya out now at least gives Inverey a chance of survival. One in a million, sure, but better than nothin’, right? ’Course we’re gonna take it.”

“You’re lying.” Lord Aubrey’s voice was flat, one side of his mouth twisting in a sardonic smile. “This isn’t for Inverey’s sake, is it? If we successfully annex the Principality, the Kingdom of Knightley will then share a very long border with the newly expanded Federation. Your nation already shoulders a heavy burden with the threat of the Empire. So tell me true, Hugh: This is for Knightley’s sake, is it not?”

Hugh could only stare back at Aubrey.

“No one is criticizing you. As a matter of fact, I applaud your decision. It’s natural to intervene in a war when its outcome will affect your people.”

“Confident, ain’t we? Got any basis for that?”

“If the famous Hugh McGlass had come alone, perhaps I could believe it had been solely for the Principality’s benefit. But leading his subordinates and fellow adventurers? Another matter entirely. After all, you can’t ask your comrades to go to their deaths for another country.”

“Yeah? Is that how it is?”

“Yes, it is. Even a warmonger like me abhors the thought of sending my people to their doom.”

“That don’t sound like the kind o’ thing the infamous Tactician would say.”

“Military men have more reason than anyone to despise war,” Lord Aubrey stated unequivocally. “Only soldiers know the true horrors of the battlefield. No one would willingly send the men they’ve nurtured to a place like that. Those who seek medals and fame have ample other opportunities for such things outside the battlefield.”

“I hate to admit it, but ya may have a point.”

Hugh nodded in agreement as Lord Aubrey continued to wax poetic. He was only entertaining this long-winded exchange to gather information. The man before him was the leader of the Federation, one of the three major powers in the Central Provinces. People rarely found themselves one-on-one with his ilk. The reality was that a lot had gone wrong at the heart of the Kingdom over the past few years. While it was hard to imagine that the Tactician was involved in all the nefarious plots, surely he’d had his hands in a few.

The man in question grinned, as if he’d seen right through Hugh.

“Heh heh heh. I’m impressed by your acuity. Indeed, collecting intelligence is vital. Say, why not become a minister in my administration instead of serving as the guild master of some backwater town? I’ll see to it that you’re well compensated.”

“No, thanks. Ya know the info I want. Why not just tell me before you die?”

“Unfortunately for you, I have no intention of dying. I know not what you seek, Master McGlass. However, if I had to venture a guess, I would say it must concern the unrest in the royal capital, eh? Half of the Kingdom’s recent chaos—including that turbulence at the capital—was my doing,” Lord Aubrey readily admitted.

Hugh remained silent, but he continued to stare expectantly. He knew there had to be more to it.

“I wasn’t responsible for the trouble in the east, such as the collapse of the Lowe Bridge, though I do take credit for Whitnash.” The corners of his mouth curled. “I only discovered later that they used the same organization as I did. A very useful lot. They’d do anything as long as you have the coin.”

“Considerin’ I’m a guild master myself, it don’t take a genius to figure out what kind o’ organization. I’ll be sure to give ’em their just deserts later.”

Hugh’s intelligence network had already sniffed out that the Sect of Assassins was the organization this mystery third party had hired. He assumed that it’d been the Empire, but what Aubrey said next threw him for a loop...

“Your phrasing tells me you don’t know what happened to them. That organization’s base was wiped out. When my people arrived, they found no bodies. However, the entire village was frozen. We theorized that perhaps an individual or group from the Kingdom was responsible. To my chagrin, though, we were wrong.”

If Ryo had been there, of course, he might have told Aubrey, No, you’re right! Obviously, he’d been the individual from the Kingdom who’d wiped them out.

“The entire village? Frozen?”

A suspicion suddenly sprouted in Hugh’s head and grew rapidly. It made him think that it had to have been one of his adventurers. In fact, the face of a certain robed water magician lingered, but he pushed it out of his mind.

“W-Well, that sure sounds like a lotta trouble...”

“Oh? Hugh, you know something, don’t you? Your expression betrays you.”

“Nope, not a damn thing. Looks like ya got an overactive imagination, eh, Aubrey?”

Hugh was a terrible liar, but Lord Aubrey chose not to press further.

“Well, there you have it. That’s all the information I can give you.”

Then Aubrey stood from his chair and drew his sword.

Although Hugh had been waiting for his opportunity, he couldn’t find one even in Aubrey’s rise to his feet. It just went to show the prowess that a life spent on the battlefield could instill. Hugh was genuinely impressed, but he couldn’t waste time. He had to defeat this enemy.

When two masters face off, in both eastern and western swordplay, it’s difficult for either to make the first move. Choosing to attack first leaves you open to a counterattack, gifting an opportunity to your opponent. If you opt to go on the offensive, you must defeat them with one blow. If you’re not a master swordsman, you can easily gain the upper hand with simple techniques, like feints, tricky footwork, and a clever shift of the angle of your blade.

Tipping the balance with such amateur moves was impossible at Hugh and Aubrey’s level. It would take something a bit more, like the something that suddenly thumped against the ground beside them. Unfortunately, they had no time to check what it was. The two moved in unison, and a fierce sword fight began.

As their blades clashed for the tenth time, they finally realized what had crashed to the floor near them: a person encased in a block of ice.

While Hugh wouldn’t say he was familiar with the sight, he could guess who was responsible. The same couldn’t be said for Lord Aubrey. As a military commander, his basic understanding of water magic told him that it was impossible to outright freeze a person—so what had fallen so close to him defied common sense.

For the briefest moment, he was shaken by what he was seeing. But in a duel like this one, even a split-second hesitation was decisive.

Hugh didn’t miss his opportunity. With their swords locked together, Hugh shifted his center of gravity to the left to dodge Aubrey’s next attack. At the same time, he removed his left hand from his sword—

“Combat Skill: Total Impalement.”

—and punched Lord Aubrey in his right abdomen.

Such a move was unthinkable in Japanese kendo or swordsmanship, but the difference here lay in the swordsman’s fighting style and in the nature of the fight itself. A normal punch would have had no effect on Lord Aubrey’s custom-made leather armor. Unfortunately for him, Hugh used a Combat Skill, multiplying his punch’s force by ten.

Unsurprisingly, it sent even Lord Aubrey flying. The moment before he slammed to the ground, he took a defensive stance to dampen his impact and tucked into a roll. He landed on one knee, allowing him to immediately counterattack—as one would expect of a skilled soldier.

Then he spat a mixture of blood and saliva onto the floor and realized his internal organs were damaged.

Dammit, Master McGlass, how monstrous your swordsmanship is... Or should I say, how monstrous your fist is? You never fail to entertain me!

Although the odds were overwhelmingly stacked against him, Lord Aubrey laughed, his thoughts defiant. He knew the tide would turn very soon in his favor...

Then, as if on cue, six guards slashed through the canvas of the tent behind him.

“My lord!”

See? The tide had turned.

Just a few seconds ago, Hugh had been deciding how he’d finish off Lord Aubrey...but now it was extremely difficult to make any kind of move. Hugh could have easily maintained his advantage if the newcomers had been any old soldiers, but these were Lord Aubrey’s personal guards. Luck was not on his side.

They’re probably well trained, eh?

Hugh sighed softly. He knew he could win against them, but it would take too long and demand too much from him. He likely wouldn’t come out the other side unscathed.

I’ll have to sacrifice an arm, at least...

Of course, with high-ranking priests like Rihya on his side, he could repair any missing parts. Even so...

Bein’ on the business end of a sword hurts like hell.

“Apologies, Hugh, but it seems victory belongs to me.”

“Color me shocked. The great Tactician, calling a fight before it’s actually ended...”

Hugh concealed his unease with bravado. He had a bad feeling about this. His surprise attack had only worked on the infamous Tactician because it had defied all his expectations. But something like this only happened once every ten years, if that. He would never have another opportunity again in this war.

Still, there was no reason for Lord Aubrey to be so assured of his victory. Had Hugh missed something? He attuned his eyes and ears to his surroundings, ensuring his guard stayed on high alert.

Aubrey, however, took Hugh’s focus on his surroundings as an invitation.

Before Hugh knew it, Aubrey had produced a bottle in his right hand and quickly downed its contents.

“Ain’t no way...” Hugh couldn’t think of anything else to say.

After finishing his drink, Aubrey grinned broadly at him.

“That’s right. A potion. It healed my injuries.”

At that moment, Hugh realized his plans were crumbling around him. Fighting six personal guards would have been difficult but possible with the necessary sacrifice. A recovered Aubrey, however, meant there was no longer a path to victory.

His opponent had bragged about his triumph to trick Hugh into focusing on his surroundings, thereby diverting his attention from Aubrey for just a moment. Using a potion to heal himself while his enemy was distracted would create a situation where victory was assured. And Lord Aubrey had succeeded.

“Now then, Hugh McGlass. Might I suggest you surrender?”

Hugh didn’t need to think about his answer.

“The hell I will,” he replied.

No idea on how to break this impasse came to him, but he wouldn’t yield. The impact of Champion McGlass’s surrender would be too great, too devastating.

“So what will you do? As you can see, I have six excellent subordinates. Who do you have, Hugh?”

No one. He had no one. It was a hopeless situation.

But then... The tables turned for a third time.

“Oh, this is where you were, Hugh!” a familiar voice called out from behind Hugh. “I have big news. The enemy has golems!”

A robed water magician and a B-rank swordsman suddenly ran into the tent.

“’Course you boys would choose now to make yer grand debuts!” he muttered.

Then, like a villain unable to suppress their evil cackle, he laughed.

“Bwa ha ha!”

“Sorry, Aubrey, but it looks like I win,” Hugh said, radiating confidence.

Doubtful, Lord Aubrey stared first at him, then at the newly arrived magician and swordsman.

“We still outnumber you... Yet you truly believe you can win?”

“Damn right. Surrender now ’n’ I swear to escort ya back to yer homeland unharmed. Whaddya say?”

“How dare you mock us?!” one of the guards shouted.

Aubrey remained silent, suspicion still in his eyes. Perhaps he was wondering whether Hugh was bluffing.

“What happened to those thousand men?” Hugh asked, referring to the Third Federated Independent Battalion.

“We took them down and stopped them in their tracks,” Abel reported, drawing his sword.

“Why ain’t I surprised?” Hugh said with a shrug, more resigned than impressed. Even at a glance, the Third had seemed like the cream of the Federation crop. “They must’ve been strong, right?”

“Yeah, they were. Get this, though: Their commanding officer is the Flame Emperor.”

“Wait, you mean the Flame Emperor who slew a thousand men in the Great War?”

“Yup, that guy.”

During the Great War, Hugh McGlass had been a hero of the Kingdom, and Lord Aubrey a hero of the Federation. However, Handalieu had had a hidden hero: Flamm Deeproad, also known as the Flame Emperor. Hugh had, in fact, crossed blades with him during the aforementioned conflict, so he should know his face...

“The Flame Emperor was basically a kid ten years ago...” Hugh muttered.

“Sixteen, right?” Abel replied. “He’s the same age as me.”

Despite chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world, both were alert, their swords at the ready.

“It defies belief that the Third could be defeated so quickly,” Aubrey interjected, “and by an ambush, no less. They should have been able to take evasive measures.”

“You can thank these two for their loss, Aubrey.”

“Are you— You’re saying it was just these two?”

“Bull’s-eye. That’s why I told ya to surrender.”

Waving the white flag was their most efficient and effective option now—far more effective than killing Lord Aubrey. Frankly, Hugh didn’t know if executing him would even win them this war. Aubrey had already outlined how this would all play out. But if he surrendered, the fighting would end immediately, and both sides would move toward a ceasefire. Depending on the negotiations, it might be possible to draft a treaty favorable to the Principality and Kingdom. That was why Hugh was so intent on Lord Aubrey surrendering.

“Not only was the Flame Emperor there,” Aubrey asked, “but Faust should have been as well, yes?”

“Yes, and I crushed him,” Ryo answered.

“I believe you’re a magician?”

“I am. I destroyed him fair and square in magical combat.” Ryo’s voice didn’t waver.

“Ya got some kinda grudge against this Faust guy?” Hugh asked, picking up on Ryo’s attitude.

“He hurt my students. So I faced him head-on, drove him to the point of mana exhaustion, and squashed him like the bug he is!” Ryo nodded in vigorous satisfaction.

“Uhhh...” Hugh, in turn, was overwhelmed by the mysterious force he exuded. “Good for you. Ya get it now, Aubrey? These boys are right powerful.”

“I do. It seems you weren’t bluffing after all, Hugh.”

“Time to surrender.”

“For only the pair of them to defeat the Third, their strength must be undeniable. I will certainly acknowledge that.” Then Aubrey beamed.

That smile sent alarm bells ringing through Hugh’s head. Something wasn’t right.

“You’ve been flappin’ your jaw for a good, long while now. Why?”

Instead of answering, Aubrey allowed his smile to widen.

“Son of a bitch. You were buyin’ time.”

“Very good, Hugh. Listen carefully now,” Aubrey advised.

Hugh, Abel, and Ryo did exactly that. Although they were on the battlefield, in the proverbial lion’s den, they could hear something in the distance if they strained their ears.

“Whatever that is sounds heavy,” Ryo said.

“Is it just me, or is it getting closer?” Abel ventured.

“This ain’t gonna end well,” Hugh said, grim.

Ryo, Abel, and Hugh were warriors who had survived plenty of life-and-death situations. They all possessed a well-honed ability to sense danger that alerted them to situations that had gone awry.

But now, before they had time to act, disaster struck as the nearest wall of the tent came crashing down.

“Artificial golems...” Ryo murmured with a grimace.

“Damn it. Five this time?” Abel groaned, scowling.

“I’d heard the reports, but...” Hugh saw the real thing for the first time.

“You boys mentioned somethin’ ’bout seein’ these things elsewhere?”

“That’s right. One of them sent Rah hurtling in the air,” Ryo said.

“We had over ten people fighting one, and we still couldn’t take it down,” Abel replied.

“Ba ha ha ha!” someone cackled. “Lord Aubrey, I hope I’m not late to the festivities.”

That someone, of course, was responsible for bringing said specimens onto the scene.

“Excellent timing, Dr. de Velde.”

“Seems your aide, Lamber, summoned me in the nick of time. You’ll be happy to know that repairs are complete, and these five are ready for action again. I must say, I’m feeling quite pleased with myself for coming to your rescue. Quite pleased, indeed.” Frank nodded in satisfaction, then looked at the three people facing him and Aubrey.

“One wields a holy sword, another bears a magic one, and a magician? An interesting combination for a strike team... Oh? Don’t tell me that holy sword is Galahad?” Frank asked, fixing his attention on Hugh’s weapon. “The same one wielded by the master swordsman, Julian. Inherited by Hugh McGlass, a hero of the Great War. Well, well, fancy meeting you here.”

“I think I’m startin’ to see the light myself. Only one person in the Central Provinces can create an artificial golem. I heard Earl Frank de Velde disappeared, but to think he’d actually defected to the Federation...”

“The Kingdom’s politics are in utter disarray. Researchers such as myself have no choice but to emigrate when the economy worsens and our budgets are cut. It’ll lead to a decline in the country’s power and its eventual downfall. That’s why there is no place for chaos in politics. The people in charge determine a country’s course. Cause and effect, you see.”

“You’re right, but what the hell do ya think I can do about it?” Hugh responded with a frown.

“You are the master of an adventurers’ guild, aren’t you? So why not lead a rebellion with your finest adventurers and kill the treacherous worms surrounding the king?”

“Have ya lost yer marbles, man?”

“Revolutions, rebellions, and civil wars arise to eradicate the corruption at the heart of both politics and governance. And only a military force can achieve that. But you may ask, ‘What about the Royal Order of Knights? The Bureau of Magicians?’ I say, ‘Bah.’ Both organizations swear fealty to the royal family and the country, so they’re nigh useless for rooting out evil. That leaves the adventurers in Knightley, eh?”

“Can someone explain how in the bleedin’ hell we got on this topic? Anyone?” Hugh sounded baffled.

“Researchers don’t care about methodology; we just want results. So in a way, we are insane.” Frank cackled gleefully.

“The Federation has allocated a generous budget to the good doctor’s research,” Lord Aubrey chimed in with a smile. He’d been all too happy to watch the Kingdom allow brain drain to deprive itself of its most valuable mind. As the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Frank shifted his gaze from Hugh to Abel. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“What is that magic sword?” he asked.

“Just something I picked up,” Abel said, disinterested. From his perspective, it was true.

“You just ‘picked up’ a magic sword, eh? Fine, but I have to say—that one is odd. Most certainly not normal.”

“No magic sword is normal,” Abel retorted.

“No, that’s not what I meant. You do know I’m an alchemist, yes? Holy swords and magic swords represent the pinnacle of alchemical devices, and in a sense, they are one of my areas of expertise,” Frank said with a wry smile. It must have been interesting for him to realize things existed that he couldn’t understand just by looking at them, even if they were part of his specialty.

“Sooo a magic sword is an alchemical device, hm? Next time, please let me study yours thoroughly, Abel.”

“The thought of you ‘studying’ mine kinda scares me,” Abel said, concerned.

“Why?!” Ryo cried out in protest.

“You,” Frank de Velde interrupted. “The magician over there.”

Ryo looked around, but he was the only magician in the vicinity.

“Yup, he’s talking to you, Ryo.”

“You never know. Haven’t you ever thought someone was calling out to you, so you answer, only to find out they meant someone else nearby?”

“I mean...yeah.”

“Of course, you have. And it’s embarrassing, isn’t it?” Ryo insisted.

“You, the robed magician from the Kingdom.”

“Th-That’s definitely me, I suppose. What can I do for you?”

“Are you an alchemist?”

“I see alchemy as more of a hobby,” Ryo answered, his tone brazen.

“A hobby?” Frank inclined his head, surprised. “An expensive hobby, surely.”

“Yes, very expensive.” Ryo nodded vigorously, imagining magical copper ores, manuals, and other alchemy accoutrements worth fistfuls of gold coins. It really was an expensive hobby.

“Alchemical research is expensive. Most join government institutions or laboratories operated by high-ranking nobles. Few work independently, which shows that you must mean business.”

“Well, I do love alchemy,” Ryo said with a smile.

Intrigued, Frank let a smile flicker across his face, then his features returned to the expression of an all-seeing, all-knowing first-rate alchemist.

“So, do you have a teacher?” he asked.

“Kenneth. Baron Kenneth Hayward.”

“Well, well, well.” Frank looked at Ryo with the warmth of a grandfather meeting his grandchild’s friend. After a moment, he nodded. “You have an excellent teacher.”

“I know. He’s the best.” Ryo’s voice rang with pure conviction—even if he was the only one who considered Kenneth his mentor.

“I dream of creating a golem. Kenneth didn’t laugh when I told him.”

“That is the kind of man he is: a genius who nurtures those around him. A rare talent indeed. However...” Frank paused, glancing at the artificial golem beside him. “Creating a golem is a difficult endeavor. The goal is a lofty one, and the path is long.”

“I understand,” Ryo answered, looking Frank in the eyes. “I intend to defeat one and take it home for research purposes.”

“Hmm,” Frank hummed, smiling ruefully. “That poses quite the problem for me, eh?”

“Ryo, even if we manage to take out a golem,” Hugh interjected, “we can’t bring it back to the Kingdom.”

Ryo’s eyes widened in shock and despair. “B-But why...”

“Anythin’ we defeat or claim becomes Inverey’s property. That’s how mercenary work goes. Just give it up.”

“I...” Ryo paused. “Well, I technically haven’t accepted a mercenary commission.”

“True, but since yer working with us, that makes you a mercenary by default,” Hugh replied, his tone brooking no argument.

“B-But it’s so fascinating! Look, it has this amazing mechanism that emits plasma—er, small lightning bolts—from its hand. Do you know how many applications this could have?” Ryo tried to persuade Hugh, but the champion wasn’t budging.

“Did he say ‘lightning’?” Lord Aubrey asked, glancing at the alchemist.

Frank nodded in confirmation.

“Magician,” Lord Aubrey said, “I see you possess some compelling knowledge.”

Ryo gave a small start. “Did I say something to catch his interest?” he whispered to Hugh, standing next to him.

“No clue,” Hugh replied, not bothering to lower his voice, “but looks like the great Tactician has his eye on you now.”

“I most certainly do,” Aubrey said. “Magician, defect to the Federation, and I’ll give you one of those golems. What say you?” His expression was enigmatic, making it hard to decipher whether his offer was a joke or serious.

“Um...” Ryo found himself wavering, seriously considering it.

“Ryo, you little shit. Don’t you dare let him tempt you with stuff like that.”

“Abel, even you must admit what a captivating construct these golems are. That much plasma—I mean, lightning... I’d love to learn the energy source and magic formula driving its generation. It’d be impossible to do with run-of-the-mill magic stones...” Ryo tilted his head, deep in thought.

“Dr. de Velde, I believe it’s time,” Lord Aubrey said meaningfully.

“Right you are, right you are,” Frank answered with a nod.

“We’re taking the three of you prisoner,” Aubrey declared.

“The hell ya are,” Hugh grunted, voice blunt. “We’re gettin’ outta here, that’s what we’re doin’.”

“Do you truly think I’ll allow you to escape?” Aubrey asked without hesitation. “Capturing a war hero would inflict immeasurable damage on the Kingdom, creating ripples that will affect the Principality’s future.”

Hugh, Abel, and Ryo stood on the side of the Kingdom while Lord Aubrey, his six personal guards, Frank, and five artificial golems stood on the side of Handalieu.

“Do you understand the disparity in strength? You must realize you can’t win.”

His guardsmen split to the left and right, clearly intending to cut off the trio’s escape route.

“Hey, Aubrey, did ya know that bogeymen are real?”

“The Great War taught me that all too well. One of them even goes by the name Hugh McGlass.”

“I ain’t talkin’ ’bout me!” Hugh shouted, his left hand flashing.

Two daggers suddenly lodged into the necks of the guards closest to him. Simultaneously, Abel flung two coins into the eyes of the guards near him. In a second, the two swordsmen closed the gap between them and the two pairs of guardsmen and cut all four down with a single stroke of their swords apiece.

“Ice Bahn. Icicle Lance 256.”

The ground on which the five artificial golems, Lord Aubrey, and Frank stood froze over, then 256 spears of ice pelted them from overhead.

“Shield us!” Frank shouted.

The golems raised their arms into the air. A white light emanated between their palms, spreading and melting all the ice spears.

“Icicle Lance 256.”

Another salvo of ice spears assailed them from the front, this one aimed solely at Lord Aubrey. With their palms raised, the golems couldn’t melt the ice beneath their feet. When they tried to move to protect Lord Aubrey, they began to slip, revealing just how calculated Ryo’s attack had been. But then...

“Storm, rage with all your might,” Frank chanted, creating a swarm of wind blades that intercepted Ryo’s new barrage of ice spears. The sparks of annihilation flashed in rapid succession, illuminating the area.

“Retreat!” Hugh said, voice ringing loud.

“10-Layer Ice Wall.”

Ryo bought them enough time to fall back with his spell.

“Shall we pursue them, Lord Aubrey?”

“No, it’s fine, Dr. de Velde. I fully understand the need to curb my greed. Destroying the Principality takes precedence. We’ll leave the Kingdom to its own devices. For now.”

And so, the trio from Knightley successfully escaped.

Lord Aubrey and company heard a sharp whistle from the direction Hugh McGlass had disappeared. It was the signal for adventurers to regroup and fall back.

“Haaa... Those few seconds of terror must have taken years off my life,” Lord Aubrey muttered.

“That water magic astounded me,” Frank replied, having overheard Aubrey. “To have mastered it at such a young age... Incredible.”

“You are no less talented, Dr. de Velde. You have my thanks.” Lord Aubrey praised Frank, impressed by his powerful spell that had required no long incantation.

“I am an alchemist, after all, and alchemists are also powerful magicians. Creating our devices requires a deep knowledge of magic too.” Frank chuckled.

“I just remembered. Captain Odoacer reported an encounter with a powerful water magician in the city of Zimarino. He must have been the one involved.”

“Did he now? And the vaunted Odoacer called him ‘powerful’? In his eyes, even the earth magician Faust is weak. We were lucky to have survived our encounter with that water magician.”

“It is as you say.” The corner of Aubrey’s mouth curled. He was glad his usual companion, Lamber, was working on the remaining artificial golems and not here with them. “He is utterly useless when it comes to swords and magic.”

Then, a soldier rushed toward him, practically stumbling to a halt.

“Your Excellency, the Principality has begun unleashing those weapons.”

“What did you say...”

You never knew what would happen on the battlefield. Even its worst-case scenarios remained veiled. Lord Aubrey understood this fact painfully well from experience. And this time, the worst thing he could have possibly imagined had emerged from the fog of war.

◆

It was Meredith, captain of the city guard, who’d noticed that Federation soldiers were running alongside Inverey’s retreating forces. He’d reported this to Prince Loris of Inverey, the highest-ranking official present, and it’d become clear that the enemy intended to invade the city in parallel pursuit.

Yet, for a full five minutes, the command center issued no orders—because Loris found himself unable to. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the enemy infiltrated the city.

Not only could they not fire Green Storm, but the city gates had also been opened to accept their retreating comrades. Everybody, Loris included, knew that this was bad. Very bad. But what could they do? Their people were outside, and they weren’t just regular soldiers they could discard—that army was the Principality’s last elite unit, which included Knight Commander Stanley.

Even if they did the gates, unleash Green Storm, and wipe out both forces, Inverey still had no chance of turning the tide. Plus, who would follow a ruler who’d made such a decision?

Loris steeled himself for the decision he’d soon need to make: He would let the enemy, along with his subordinates, into the city and attempt a final resistance through urban warfare.

Just as he was about to give the order, Loris turned, and his eyes fell on his wife and two daughters... His children. The eldest wasn’t even ten years old. They were praying to God with all their heart. What would happen to his girls if he allowed the enemy to enter the city?

Loris changed his mind at the very last moment.

The castle gates were shut, and Green Storm unleashed an area attack, massacring the enemy—and his comrades.

“How heavy are our losses?” Lord Aubrey asked.

“Around two thousand...”

“Tsk!”

He couldn’t help but click his tongue at the news. The Federation’s expedition had suffered the most casualties at the siege of Aberdeen, when the Vedra imitation had eliminated a few dozen of their soldiers. But now, it seemed like the death toll was skyrocketing.

“First that, now this... I underestimated the likelihood they would fire the device again, overcome with fear as they were. So perhaps it’s my fault...”

In the wake of the attack, the death of Knight Commander Stanley and the Principality’s elite soldiers had been confirmed—but so had the Federation’s massive losses.

Lord Aubrey let out a profound sigh and then fell silent, creating an uncomfortable silence in the room. His subordinates waited anxiously in this charged atmosphere, as if waiting to see who would break the quiet first. The task unwittingly fell to...

“I have returned,” Lamber, Aubrey’s undisputed right-hand man and aide, announced.

“Well done,” his leader said with a nod.

“The remaining thirteen golems have all arrived.”

“Finally, some good news. Splendid, just splendid. I’ll make the final adjustments right away.” Frank headed toward the golems.

“This is terrible,” Lamber murmured.

“I was too optimistic,” Lord Aubrey said with a small shake of his head. His tone had already returned to normal. Though Inverey’s elite forces had been annihilated, his headquarters had been ambushed, and his strike force had suffered enormous casualties, he had come to terms with all this.

“We’ve overplayed our hand. We’ll push forward with a larger army and more powerful weaponry. Henceforth, our advance will be a steady one.”

The battle to capture Fion was approaching its final phase.

Retreating from the raid on the Federation’s main camp, South Division of the Kingdom’s expeditionary force hid in the forest beside the plains north of the narrow pass. Although comprising elite adventurers C-rank and above, it had lost six of its soldiers. Several were seriously injured, but they’d been saved by the clerics.

However, the priests and priestesses were all nearing their physical limits. While they were able to recover their energy thanks to Ryo’s special mana potions and store-bought ones, they couldn’t replenish all the stamina that their light magic had depleted. It was extremely tiring, as you might imagine. The best recovery method was a long rest.

At long last, the four other divisions of the expeditionary force broke through the forest and rejoined the southern division. When Hugh updated them, they realized they were too late for the action, and their disappointment was clear on their faces.

The only one whose expression remained unchanged was Grand Master Finley Forsyth.

“Understood,” Finley said. “Well done.”

His taciturn response surprised Hugh. He had anticipated being accused of acting on his own or being blamed for the failure of the surprise attack, but Finley had mentioned neither.

Did the Grand Master think less of him now? Hugh expected some kind of punishment, but East and Central Divisions were assigned to the vanguard, North and West in the middle, and South at the rear. In the end, nothing had changed.

Hugh was a little disappointed, but after visiting his division’s rest area, he realized he might have misunderstood. The clerics, especially, were still exhausted from the ambush. If they’d been entrusted with leading the vanguard in this state, it could have been a disaster. Only a handful of adventurers didn’t look quite as tired...

A certain magician, for example, showed no signs of fatigue. “‘Don’t work so hard you tire yourself out,’” he said, explaining something to a B-rank adventurer and swordsman who looked similarly tireless. “My dad used to say that to his subordinates all the time. When you’re tired, you make mistakes. That’s why business management involves motivating your staff so they don’t exhaust themselves.”

“Manage— What?”

“Basically, maintaining high morale among your subordinates.”

Hugh smiled ruefully as he listened in on Ryo and Abel’s conversation.

That makes me a complete failure, then, considerin’ my people are dead on their feet.

A leader needs to guide those under their command without tiring them out. Fatigue breeds mistakes, and mistakes cost them in time, effort, and resources. That’s where management comes in.

“Okay, so, why are you giving me this little lecture?” Abel asked Ryo.

“Because you insist on this pretension of being the king’s son. Once you ascend the throne, you’ll have lots of subordinates, right? You’ll have to make good use of them then. If you can, that is!”

“You still don’t believe I’m a prince, do you? Besides, I’m the second son, so I’d end up as a knight or something instead.”

“So not a black company, but a black knight. A black knight sounds kind of cool.” Ryo seemed pleased. “Since exhaustion is the problem, an unfeeling golem would make the perfect subordinate.”

Fifteen minutes later, the Grand Master’s message arrived at the exhausted South Division’s encampment.

“The enemy is on the move,” he announced. “Remain alert as the rear guard.”

“Roger that. In other words, don’t move.” Hugh shooed the messenger away with a wave of his hand and sat down on the grass to listen to the conversation between the magician and the swordsman.

“We can’t see the front lines from here. If we go up to that narrow part of the cliff, I think we’ll have a fairly expansive view of things.”

“No, that won’t work. No way can we— Well, hmm... It’s almost impossible to climb up, but maybe going down in an emergency is more doable?” Abel initially shot down Ryo’s suggestion, then seemed to reconsider.

Huh. That may not actually be a bad idea.

Though he’d been told to maintain their position in the rear, Hugh was still concerned about how things would pan out. If the Federation forces launched another attack on the city of Fion and deployed their main host, they might be able to ambush Lord Aubrey again... Despite knowing that the other man wouldn’t make such a mistake twice, he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility. In which case, he needed a better grasp of the overall situation, which he couldn’t get from here.

However, the cliff above the narrow pass would give Hugh a panoramic view of the battlefield. Plus, it looked like it might be viable in an emergency. They could go down the cliff and enter the narrow pass, or exit on the north or south side of the pass.

My orders are to stay alert at the rear, but I can do that up there too. If I get dressed down for it later, I’ll figure out how to talk my way out then. ’Sides, can’t imagine Lord Aubrey leavin’ such an important location unguarded.

“I spotted five lookouts,” Ryo said, relaying the information he’d gleaned from his Passive Sonar to Hugh.

“Okay. Neutralize ’em like we planned.”

At Hugh’s order, five scouts, including Sue from Switchback, disappeared into the forest. A minute later, they heard a bird call.

Success.

Hugh and Abel took the lead and, after a bit of walking, found five Federation soldiers on the ground, gagged and tied up. Still alive.

“Nice work,” Hugh said.

The scouts bobbed their heads happily. Normally, parties operated independently, and in any party, there was only one scout. It was rare for people with the same job to work together like this, so these five had grown very close during the expedition.

Rah, Switchback’s swordsman, had been glancing at Sue while she chatted cheerfully with a male scout for some time now, but it wasn’t jealousy. Nope, not at all! He was just worried that the other guy’s party might try to poach her! It wasn’t personal—he just wanted what was best for the party!

“I knew it. The view from up here is excellent.”

From the forested outcrop on the cliff, they could see the entire battlefield below them. They determined that anyone hiding in the woods would likely be invisible from the cliff base and battlefield. The Federation forces had marched through the narrow pass, preparing to advance toward the basin where Fion was located.

“Damn, whoever’s at the front is built like a brick sh— Wait, four legs?” Hugh said. “Are those the golems from earlier?!”

“They have an intimidating presence even from a distance, hm?” Ryo had a smug expression, like he wanted to say, See? You want one too, don’t you?

Hugh glanced at him. “I don’t care how much you want to get your hands on one of ’em. It ain’t happenin’, boy.”

“Grr...” Smugness replaced by frustration, Ryo pantomimed wiping tears away.

Abel gave them a sidelong glance and shook his head in exasperation.

“The golems are drawing closer.”

“They’re not gonna hold back, huh?”

“Goin’ at their opponents head-on leaves the Principality no openings to exploit.”

Ryo, Abel, and Hugh hadn’t witnessed the parallel pursuit attack, so it surprised them to discover that the infamous Tactician was seemingly relying on brute force. And of course, they were unaware of the secret weapon installed in Fion.

At that moment, a powerful green light flashed from the city’s tallest spire. A single ray of magic sliced across the battlefield like a swing from the Grim Reaper’s scythe. It should have taken thousands of lives in that single slash, but the golems thrust their hands into the air. A white light glowed, forming an aegis shield that blocked the ray and caused a green explosion to burst outward in all directions from the artificial creatures.

“What in the hell just happened?” Hugh said what everyone watching from the cliff was thinking.

Only one person seemed to have an answer.

“That’s an arcane weapon,” Abel began, “but...”

After the mayhem in the royal capital, his elder brother, the crown prince, had summoned him to disclose a number of state secrets. As part of his lecture, he’d given Abel documents on the arcane weapon named Vedra, currently under development by the Royal Center for Alchemy. Abel had found that piece of information particularly impressive since the head of the project was his old friend, Baron Kenneth Hayward. However, he also knew that the weapon was currently under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Domestic Affairs, and its development had stalled due to a lack of funds. Furthermore, the air magic stones used in Vedra were the same ones he and Ryo had sold. Needless to say, Abel had broken into a cold sweat while listening to his brother.

That was why he understood the abnormality of the situation before him. Vedra was, so to speak, the Kingdom’s secret weapon. Why did the Principality possess an arcane weapon that seemed to operate on the same mechanism?

“That was an air-attribute attack executed with a weapon refined through alchemy, yes?” Ryo asked Nash, an air magician in Six Flowers. She should have been able to sense air magic attacks even if an alchemical device had been used.

“Correct, though I don’t know what kind of magic formula it is.” Nash frowned and shook her head.

“I see...” Ryo frowned too, then nodded once.

“That weapon is far worse than you can imagine,” said Rah, the swordsman of Switchback. He’d wandered over without them noticing. “Thousands of soldiers died in that single sweep while we were launching our surprise attack.” He had witnessed Green Storm’s ruthless attack ordered by Prince Loris of Inverey.

“Are you...” Ryo trailed off in shock, joining everyone else who’d been rendered speechless.

“Then what happened to the golems, since they can deflect it?” asked Ash, the fire magician of Six Flowers.

“Good question,” Hugh said with a thoughtful nod, his gaze returning to the battlefield.

While they were talking, the Federation forces continued their perfectly coordinated advance. Then the green light once more surged from the spire in Fion. This time, instead of sweeping across the plain, the light formed a concentrated beam aimed at a single golem in the center. Again, a white light appeared in the golem’s hands, creating an invisible barrier that blocked the green light from reaching the golem.

“An electromagnetic arc?” Ryo murmured to himself.

Hugh, Abel, Landenbier, and the entirety of Six Flowers all overheard and looked questioningly at the water magician.

“Ryo, you know what’s goin’ on?” Hugh asked on behalf of the group.

He was thinking of the giant, ocean-dwelling pistol shrimps that had knocked him unconscious with their plasma shock wave. Back on Earth, pistol shrimp live in Japan’s coastal waters. When they snap their claws, they create cavitation bubbles that generate shock waves when they burst. The bubbles can even generate plasma capable of reaching temperatures as high as 4,400 degrees. The shrimp use these shock waves to hunt and communicate; some species even use them to dig holes in coral reefs. Humans use a technique called plasma arc welding for underwater welding, but research on Earth has been conducted to see if pistol shrimp plasma could be a viable replacement.

However, what Ryo was witnessing was happening on land, not underwater. Cavitation bubbles only worked in liquid, after all. So what was this phenomenon, then? It was still plasma. In particular, it fell under the aforementioned plasma arc welding category.

When Boeing patented a method of creating shock waves via electromagnetic arcs, it became well-known among a subset of enthusiasts for its resemblance to the plasma swords wielded by the knights in a certain sci-fi franchise. Fortunately, Ryo happened to be one of those enthusiasts.

This technology is supposed to protect people and cars from the shock waves of explosions by generating plasma through arc discharge and other methods, causing changes in temperature and air density that make it harder for shock waves to travel. Ryo felt that this was probably what the golems were doing, but how was he supposed to explain all of this to the others?

“The small amounts of lightning generated in the golems’ hands warp the air and prevent the air magic from reaching them,” Ryo explained.

He wasn’t lying. Besides, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for any of them to prove him wrong anyway, regardless of how bare-bones his explanation was.

“I see,” the men said in unison.

Hugh, Abel, and Rah nodded solemnly. They didn’t actually understand; they just pretended to out of pride.

The three sisters of Six Flowers and Sue saw right through them, however. They said nothing, looking at the men with pity in their eyes.

About fifteen golems marched in the front rank. Behind them, the Federation forces followed in formation. Green Storm ignored the golems and aimed for the people, but the golems’ electromagnetic arcs could still block the attacks.

“The city’s screwed at this rate, ain’t it?” Hugh said.

Ryo and the three sisters nodded.

“GuilMas, got any ideas?” Abel asked.

Hugh blinked. The question was so vague that even he hadn’t expected it. “How the hell should I know?” he replied.

“At this rate, Fion will fall. And when that happens, Inverey and his family will have to escape, right?”

“’Course they will. They must live if there’s any hope o’ restorin’ the Principality.”

Prince Loris had no sons, only two young daughters, meaning he needed to survive to ensure the country maintained stable leadership. That was Abel and Hugh’s assessment, anyway.

“So where will they escape from, and how will they get out of that basin?” Landenbier, guild master of Acray, asked. He had snuck up on Hugh without him realizing it.

“As for where, I’m sure they already have an escape route. The real problem is how, eh? Even if they manage it, the next question becomes where they’ll go after.”

“The Kingdom. Isn’t that the obvious answer?” Abel answered Hugh.

“Well, that’s the most realistic option. But will Knightley accept ’em? That’s not even mentionin’ how long it’ll take the bureaucrats to make a decision. In that case, we’d need a place to hide Inverey, his family, ’n’ the rest o’ his people, huh?”

“At this point, maybe we should try another surprise attack on Lord Aubrey,” Rah suggested.

Hugh slowly shook his head. “He’s part o’ the force marchin’ on Fion.”

“Really? No way...”

Common sense dictated that an army’s supreme commander shouldn’t be in the vanguard of his army, but Lord Aubrey, a veteran of countless battles, felt at home in the thick of combat.

“Yeah, ’n’ that’s why East Division can’t make any moves.”

From the cliff, they couldn’t confirm the whereabouts of the other units in the Kingdom’s expeditionary force. Regardless, they knew it was only a matter of time before Fion fell, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.

“Maybe Lord Forsyth has given up on the city,” Hugh murmured, but nobody heard him.

Let’s rewind about a half hour and visit the Federation’s headquarters.

“Your Excellency,” Lamber reported, “we’ve lost regular communications from the cliff top.”

They employed a simple method of communication: Their agents used a mirror to reflect sunlight toward the HQ. They were supposed to report every ten minutes, but so far, their people on the cliff had missed two check-ins. Something must have happened.

“They must have been attacked by the Kingdom’s adventurers,” Lord Aubrey said, remaining exceedingly calm. In fact, he even seemed slightly relieved.

“My lord, what do you suggest we do?”

“Leave them. There’s no need to lift a single finger.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Aubrey’s instructions were a surprise, even to Lamber.

“I do so hope the occupiers are Master McGlass and his men... But beggars can’t be choosers, eh?”

Unbeknownst to him, Aubrey had already gotten his wish.

“Forgive me, but why?”

“Calm yourself, Lamber. It is simply better to know where our troublesome enemy is than have no knowledge of their position. Would you rather they be anywhere in the forest or on a cliff, where we must carefully account for any possibility?”

Guerrilla forces were such a threat precisely because they were elusive. Once they occupied a village and became immobile, the invading army was free of the fear of never knowing when or where they would be attacked. That was what Aubrey had meant.

“Speaking of the forest, is Odoacer on the move?”

“Yes. He is conducting his investigation.”

“Good, good. The only thing left to do is join the host’s advance myself and ensure we aren’t attacked.”

With a chuckle, Lord Aubrey threw himself and his main host into the front line.

Conclusion

“It’s no use,” Garrison Captain Meredith said in anguish. “Green Storm isn’t working.”

This came as no surprise to Prince Loris of Inverey. He’d just watched the enemy deflect every one of the weapon’s attacks.

“Commence our assault from the city walls,” he said in a lifeless voice.

His resignation was understandable. His orders had led to the loss of his most elite troops and his most trusted military general, Knight Commander Stanley. There was no longer any hope of turning the tide. He knew that, no matter how much the truth pained him.

“Your Serene Highness,” a voice whispered behind him, startling Loris out of his jumbled thoughts.

He turned to see his grand chamberlain standing there.

“Escape the city, leave the country, and restore the Principality from abroad.”

“B-But—” He couldn’t help but hesitate to abandon his nation, his people, and the soldiers who had followed him to the end—to flee like a coward and bring shame upon himself.

“As long as you are safe, hope remains. However, if aught were to happen to you, who would lead the nobles in hiding when the time comes to rise up?”

If he survived, he would give hope to the oppressed who dreamed of reviving their nation... Those words gave Loris the courage he needed to make up his mind—to take his family and flee. But was it actually possible?

“Master Gekko has prepared an escape route from Fion. It leads into the forest at the edge of the basin. He suggests you hide in the woods for some time. We shall fake your death here, allowing you to escape while the enemy’s surveillance is relaxed.”

“Gekko, eh...”

Gekko, a merchant from the Principality of Inverey, had brought supplies to the city of Fion, readied it as a base for a final counterattack, and even prepared an escape route in case of emergency.

“Is he gone already?”

“Yes. As you instructed, he left the city just as you arrived and is likely hiding near the Kingdom’s border as we speak.”

“We’re only adding to his burden.” Loris let out a deep sigh. “I understand. We will flee.”

And so, Prince Loris of Inverey, accompanied by his family and retinue, escaped from the city of Fion.

Loris and his companions traveled a kilometer west through a long underground tunnel. When they emerged, they found themselves in one of the forests scattered across the Plains of Fion. They could still see the city through the trees. In this twilight hour, the battle for Fion continued to rage. However, the gates had already been breached, and it was only a matter of time before it fell.

Even from this distance, Loris could see smoke rising from all corners of the city, then fading into darkness. He refused to avert his eyes from those fighting to allow him to escape, those who refused to accept the destruction of their country, and those who’d simply decided the city would be their final resting place.

He, who should have been responsible for all of them, was the first to leave. Intellectually, he knew that his role was to survive. But knowing something rationally did not help his heart accept it.

“Your Highness, it’s not yet safe here. Lord Gekko has left a message, suggesting you move as quickly as possible to a shelter deep in the forest,” urged Giuseppe Salieri, head of the Principality’s intelligence division. They were still too close to the city.

“I know. I know, but...” Loris’s lips quivered, perhaps from frustration and his own incompetence. “Just a bit—a bit longer...”

Nevertheless, Salieri was right: This place wasn’t safe.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the forest. “Prince Inverey,” he said, “I demand your surrender.”

“What in the—” Loris began, speechless.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of his guards shouted, defiant to the bitter end.

“My name is Odoacer. I am the captain of the Federation’s reconnaissance unit directly under His Lordship’s command. We have you surrounded. If you surrender, I will personally guarantee your safety and that of your family and retinue.”

Federation soldiers materialized around them as they stepped into the clearing, forming a semicircle around the prince and his men. Not counting his family or the other noncombatants, Loris had only twenty men capable of fighting. In contrast, his enemy numbered roughly a hundred.

Loris drew his sword. He knew the power differential was too great to overcome. It was hopeless. He also understood that if he surrendered quietly, his family would be spared.

Yet he drew his sword nevertheless. Perhaps the image of Fion’s fall had been seared into his memory.

“I cannot surrender,” he said, his voice strained, touched by sorrow.

“Then you’ve made your choice,” Odoacer replied.

And so the battle began.

As dusk gave way to night, it became impossible to tell friend from foe, even inches away, in the thickness of the forest. In this chaos, a fierce battle unfolded.

Inverey’s twenty men weren’t just riffraff, but personal guards who’d pledged their lives to the prince and his family, swearing to follow him wherever he went. Their spirit was unwavering and overpowering.

However, the opposition were no pushovers. As Odoacer had mentioned, the reconnaissance unit was directly under Lord Aubrey’s control—and that man tolerated no weakness. The unit was led by Odoacer himself, said to be the most skilled close-quarters fighter of Aubrey’s subordinates. The unit’s soldiers were so powerful that calling them scouts was an insult to their roles and capabilities. On this occasion, they also had the numerical advantage.

Like a well-oiled machine, the reconnaissance unit began cutting down Inverey’s personal guard, one by one...

Even Loris, no expert in combat, could tell that defeat was imminent. “This is terrible...”

He knew there was nothing more they could do...

Minutes later, with less than half of Inverey’s personal guard remaining, a shout rang out through the forest.

“The Kingdom’s South Division has arrived!”

A certain water magician had decided to announce the arrival of the reinforcements to avoid friendly fire in the darkness.

The warning worked, and the few remaining guardsmen, stubbornly clinging to life, cried out in relief.

“It’s Master McGlass!”

“The great champion came to our rescue!”

South Division’s vanguard charged in. The magicians and clerics in the back lines couldn’t join the battle since it was too difficult to distinguish between the Principality’s men and the Federation’s forces at night. Long-range magical attacks were out of the question, as they could hurt their allies too. Instead, the troop of nearly thirty decided to move closer to the prince to protect him and his family. Meanwhile, the remainder of South Division would cross the dangerous battlefield to engage the enemy in melee.

Amid this chaos, Ryo used his sonar to locate the prince and his entourage. Upon learning they were engaged in battle, he’d joined the fray to lend his support, proving himself useful, all things considered. His sonar could discern one member of South Division from another, but it couldn’t distinguish a soldier of Inverey from one of Handalieu. Ryo seemed a tad dissatisfied, but then he detected someone familiar...

“Hm? I know those moves—and I know which enemy they belong to!”

At that moment, Ryo laughed.

Ryo ran toward his adversary and put all of his momentum behind Murasame. Then he struck.

Klang.

“Well, well. We meet again, Odoacer.”

Odoacer, captain of the Federation’s elite recon unit, looked surprised. “You’re the water magician from before.”

As one of the commanders, Odoacer hadn’t personally charged into battle. Instead, he’d opted to stand back and mobilize his troops to secure victory. As a result, neither Loris’s personal guard nor the Kingdom’s expeditionary force had encountered him. And yet, despite the darkness of night, this water magician had just struck at him with eerie precision...

“Targeting the leaders of your enemy’s forces is common in war,” Ryo said with a smile.

“You are correct. As a leader, I trust you understand why I can’t allow you to do that,” Odoacer replied, regaining his calm expression.

Ryo swung his sword down and then followed it with a quick reverse cut, but Odoacer dodged gracefully. They switched offense and defense, then Odoacer thrust twice and kicked.

“Nothing orthodox at all about your fighting style, hm?” Ryo muttered. “You’re definitely a scout.”

Odoacer remained silent.

Their weapons clashed fiercely as they continued to take turns attacking and defending. Odoacer wielded a single-edged straight sword that might have looked like a Japanese uchigatana if it had been curved. Like the uchigatana, the blade was less than seventy centimeters long. He primarily used his right hand to control it, placing his left on the blade when their swords were locked and pushing against each other. Because it was shorter than Ryo’s Murasame, it was easier to handle with one hand. He also threw in some martial arts techniques, like kicks and holds. At one point, he even tried grappling with Ryo, probably intending to throw him or put him into a joint lock.

“You are one terrifying opponent,” Ryo murmured, his words genuine.

“Then why are you smiling?” Odoacer asked, skepticism written all over his face.

Ryo hadn’t even realized there was a smile stretching his lips. “I’m just using it to hide my fear.”

“Liar. You’re a battle maniac, and that is the truth,” Odoacer snapped back.

He abruptly took a huge leap backward. Ryo rushed to pursue him, but something suddenly appeared before him.

“Gah!”

He wrenched his head to the side to avoid it and simultaneously jumped backward out of reflex.

“10-Layer Ice Wall.”

Klink, klink.

Two metal objects caromed off the ice wall.

“Throwing knives?” he said, confused. “Just like the ones I dodged before.”

Ryo understood what had happened, but how had he done it? Odoacer’s right hand still held the sword, but his left hand had barely moved. That meant he must have been capable of throwing them with tremendous force.

“You are a serious thorn in my side.”

He couldn’t cut through the knives when he got close, and the moment he moved away, the throwing knives hurtled his way. Ryo had never faced such an attack before, which was perhaps why—

“See? You are smiling.” Odoacer pointed out the huge grin on Ryo’s face.

After deploying his Ice Wall once, Ryo continued fighting without magic—but it wasn’t out of choice. He just no longer had the luxury.

After dozens of sword clashes, Ryo began to understand Odoacer’s fighting style. When they fought at extremely close distance, Odoacer would unleash high and low kicks as well as palm strikes with his left hand. When they stood farther apart and a single step could put Ryo into reach, Odoacer would attack with his single-edged straight sword instead.

Despite being the captain of a recon unit, he was far more powerful than the average swordsman. Actually—maybe he was too powerful? Was his technique on Abel’s level?

At farther, mid-range distances less than three meters, Odoacer would flick throwing knives at Ryo. These sharp weapons, fifteen centimeters long, rocketed toward him even though Odoacer barely moved his hand. If Ryo deflected the projectiles with his sword, he gave Odoacer the opportunity to close the gap in an instant, shifting the fight back to close quarters. This fighting style, with the man constantly moving in and out of range, was surprisingly tricky.

I’d love to do something about the constant changes in distance, but...I’m having a hard time. No surprise there, since that’s the key to his fighting style.

Ryo was struggling.

Meanwhile, Captain Odoacer’s expression hadn’t changed much, so it was hard to tell from the outside. Deep down, however, he was extremely anxious.

Who is this man? No matter how aggressive I am, he refuses to yield. He seems like a magician, but I find that hard to believe. If he is, how is he such a powerful fighter? I keep varying the spacing to make combat difficult for him, but it’s only a matter of time before he counters me. What do I do? What can I do? I haven’t faced such a dangerous opponent in the last ten years...

Odoacer excelled at one-on-one combat more than any of Lord Aubrey’s subordinates. As a scout and captain of the chancellor’s personal reconnaissance unit, he was used to entering dangerous areas alone. He had a wealth of experience gathering intelligence, sabotaging operations, and even performing assassinations. His background in combat was unmatched by anyone in the entire Federation. Yet he still found Ryo’s defense extraordinary. Even though Odoacer drew on all of his experience, Ryo was unbreakable and unwavering. And he was a magician, no less...

That was when he shifted his mindset.

The fact that he’s a magician has no bearing here. It’s obvious he refined his perfect defensive style through extensive training and countless near-death experiences. All I must do is look at him to know he’s a more formidable opponent than anyone I’ve ever encountered.

The change in Odoacer should have been slight. He had simply shifted his mindset. Nevertheless, Ryo picked up on it.

It’s time to make a move.

Ryo had thought of ways to block his advances, but he still hadn’t figured out how to reach the final stage of their duel. It couldn’t be helped.

“Combat is a living thing,” Ryo muttered, leaping back to put some space between them.

The distance now widened to mid-range. Naturally, Odoacer threw knives at him. Ryo had no idea how many of them he even had on him.

“Active Ice Wall.”

His usual frozen barrier appeared—and then moved, barreling right toward Odoacer. He threw another knife. Klang,klink. Of course, it bounced off the wall, which continued rushing toward him.

He dodged frantically.

“Active Ice Wall.”

A second wall charged Odoacer. He gave up on his throwing knives, evaded the ice wall, and closed the gap between them in a rush, transitioning to melee combat. With his mid-range attack pattern nullified, he could no longer rely on it to alter his spacing so easily.

Ryo had been inspired by Floating Stone Wall, a spell used by Hasan, the former leader of the Sect of Assassins. The technique itself was adapted from one used by Faust, the earth magician he’d fought a while ago. Finding an existing build and tweaking it to make it your own was key to shortening construction times.

Now that Odoacer couldn’t weave in and out of range so freely, Ryo could concentrate completely on his melee fighting style. It was the exact situation Ryo had wanted and the exact situation Odoacer had tried to avoid.

In terms of pure swordsmanship, there was no real difference between their talents. As they continued dueling, however, Odoacer noticed something odd: a gauzy layer of water, thinner than mist, was floating in the air.

“What is this?”

The haze was so thin that it didn’t even feel moist against his skin.

“Is he doing this?”

Then he noticed that the aerosol was, in fact, jetting out of Ryo’s body. He was baffled, having never heard of a phenomenon like this. Simultaneously, he noticed his opponent’s defense had become even more fluid—as if he’d eliminated all waste from his movements, creating even more room for maneuvering.

His opponent was now faster, more powerful, and more precise.

The results came all at once.

Up until now, Odoacer had been the faster striker—but when he swung his sword, Ryo deflected it with the hilt of his blade, stepped diagonally to his right, and sliced open Odoacer’s abdomen with a one-handed slash.

A wound now gaping across his right side, Odoacer wordlessly collapsed.

“Phew...”

Ryo took a deep breath, steadying his body and mind.

“Nice show you put on, Ryo,” Abel said, having arrived at his side without Ryo noticing.

“Oh, were you watching?”

“Yeah. That last block was pretty crazy. Where’d you learn that?”

“In a video from the All-Japan Kendo Championship I watched a long time ago. A lot of people can do it, but when it lands, it’s incredibly cool.” Ryo was delighted at having executed the move perfectly.

“I have no clue what this All-Japan whatever is, but I have to give you kudos for pulling that off with your hands spaced out like that.”

“As you should. Because if you tried, Abel, you’d more than likely slice off your right pinky.”

“Well, thanks for that image.”

They chatted so casually because they knew the battle was drawing to a close. While the Kingdom’s South Division held off the Federation’s recon scouts, Inverey’s remaining guards escorted him and his family to safety.

“Is their captain dead?” Abel asked, glancing at Odoacer.

“Sadly, no. My aim was perfect, but my blade didn’t reach his spine. Maybe he dove sideways just enough at the last second. What a stubborn man, don’t you think?”

“You’re not gonna finish him off?”

“Our role is to stop them in their tracks, isn’t it? So there’s no need to kill them. Besides, it won’t be long until—”

“Fall back!” a voice rang out. It was the signal for South Division to withdraw.

◆

Prince Loris of Inverey and his entourage took refuge in a massive cave that had been meticulously designed. The winding twists and turns at the entrance made it impossible for any light to reach the spacious interior chamber, which contained enough food and other supplies to support twenty people for over a month. It just went to show how competent Gekko was.

Presently, people approached.

“Stop!” shouted Loris’s talented guards, halting the would-be intruders in their tracks. “Identify yourself!”

Though only five guards remained, they’d all sworn fealty to Loris. Strength rang in their voices.

Then they saw the face of the leader of the approaching group.

“Master McGlass!”

The guards bowed their heads in respect. They knew that it was thanks to the Kingdom’s adventurers, led by Master McGlass, that they had managed to escape from the Federation soldiers’ encirclement.

“May I meet with His Serene Highness?” Hugh asked.

Loris had already emerged from the cave. “I’m here,” he said.

“My lord,” Hugh replied, bending down on one knee in a customary bow to royalty.

“Raise your head, Master McGlass. You have my deepest gratitude for the aid you and yours provided. Earlier today, I received a report that you led an assault on Lord Aubrey’s headquarters with a few of your men. Though my country is lost to me, I can’t thank you enough for your efforts. With that out of the way, may I assume you’re here now to discuss our future?”

“Ya assume correctly, Your Highness. I’d like ya to consider seekin’ asylum in the Kingdom.”

Of course, this wasn’t Hugh’s idea, but an order from Grand Master Finley Forsyth, leader of Knightley’s expeditionary force of adventurers. Finley had opted not to make this visit himself. On account of Hugh’s reputation in the Principality, the grand master had decided that sending a champion of the Great War instead would cause fewer problems.

His plan was about to pay off.

“Well, considering our circumstances, I was beginning to think we’d have no other option.”

Then a woman’s voice rang out from the darkness: “There is another way.”

No one had expected that—not even Ryo. He’d been using Passive Sonar to keep watch, but he hadn’t noticed her approach.

The fact that I didn’t detect her until she got this close makes her abnormal, to say the least... Wait a minute. What’s happening?

Four men and women emerged from the forest, led by a beautiful woman with fiery red hair. Her expression radiated resolve, leaving an extremely dignified impression.

Behind her, at her right, walked a white-haired man with a face Ryo would never forget.

“The Inferno Magician...” Abel muttered.

“Princess Fiona, it’s been too long,” Hugh said. “Not sure if ya remember me, but the name’s Hugh McGlass, guild master of Lune, at yer service. Last time we met was in Whitnash.”

“Hello, Master McGlass. Of course, I remember you. Abel too.” She paused to smile, then continued. “Ah, and how could I forget the water magician who tried to freeze me?”

Be very afraid when a woman smiles like that...

“I apologize for my rudeness back then,” Ryo said. “However, at the risk of adding insult to injury, I’d like to get it on the record that it was entirely the fault of the fire magician behind you.”

In contrast to his insolent words, Ryo’s bow was extremely polite.

Oscar Luska, the fire magician, appeared to remain impassive.

However, a closer inspection revealed a suspicious twitch in his cheek. Jurgen and Marie, his and Fiona’s aides, clearly saw Oscar’s cheek twitch. The Kingdom’s adventurers couldn’t see him at all in the darkness under the forest canopy.

Those two seem experienced as well... So if things go wrong, I suppose both sides are evenly matched, hmm?

The image of a tiger and a dragon locked in a never-ending battle popped into Ryo’s mind. He, Champion McGlass, and Abel versus these four imperial citizens... Without a doubt, the fight would be fierce.

“We come in peace,” Princess Fiona said, immediately disabusing Ryo of his wild fantasies. “I’m here to deliver a letter to you, Prince Loris of Inverey, on behalf of Emperor Rupert VI.”

“What could His Imperial Majesty possibly want with me?” Loris asked, puzzled.

Nevertheless, he accepted the letter and read through its contents. A moment later, his expression shifted into a mixture of surprise, confusion, and doubt. He read it three more times, and then quietly blurted, “Is this true?”

“Yes. My father penned it himself. Every word is true. Our empire formally extends an offer of asylum to Prince Inverey, his family, and the entirety of his retinue.”

Hugh, Abel, and even Ryo looked stunned.

“H-Hold on just a dang minute. Knightley’s got a stake in—” Hugh cut in hastily.

“Oh, so the Kingdom has also made an official decision on this matter?” Fiona interrupted sharply. “As is apparent, the Empire’s decision carries His Majesty’s approval. We’ve even come here to deliver the letter personally. The same can’t be said of the Kingdom, though, hm? Do your leaders continue to deliberate, even now, in the royal capital on whether to grant asylum?”

She spoke the truth. The Kingdom was by no means united, so there was still every possibility of its government refusing asylum to the Principality’s survivors.

Hugh knew that, and so did Prince Inverey, with his powerful intelligence division, which explained why none of them was sure the Kingdom would accept them. However, believing himself out of options, Loris had made up his mind to head to Knightley. Now another path had appeared, leading to exile in Debuhi—and the emperor himself had approved of the decision. Now, he had no reason not to choose the Empire.

One thing still concerned him.

“Your Highness, how will we reach the Empire from here?” Loris asked Fiona.

The Principality and the Empire didn’t share a border. Even the road to the Kingdom, which was currently under Federation control, wasn’t easy to travel. The journey to Debuhi would be even more difficult.

“Fear not, my lord,” Fiona replied.

She glanced at Oscar behind her. He gave her a slight nod, then whispered into something he was holding.

Two minutes later, Ryo noticed that the sky had darkened. Despite the late hour and the clouds obscuring the stars and moon, they could still make out something floating in the sky. Passive Sonar revealed a man-made object over one hundred meters in length.

“No freaking way... A flying battleship?” Abel blurted out. He had noticed too and looked up at the same time as Ryo.

“If I wasn’t seein’ it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it... But there have only ever been rumors!” Hugh was shocked.

“They do, in fact, exist. However, even the Empire could only build one. Yet here it is now, right before our eyes...” Loris had known of the existence of flying battleships thanks to his country’s powerful intelligence network.

“Indeed. His Imperial Majesty has given special permission to use this one for the safe transport of you and yours, Prince Loris. Have I allayed your concerns now?” Princess Fiona ended with a graceful bow.

With that, Loris chose refuge in the Empire.

As the jet-black imperial flying battleship faded into the darkness of the night sky, Hugh and the others stood motionless. They had been completely and utterly outsmarted by the Empire. The shock of the knowledge was greater than they had expected.

Maybe this is for the best, after all. I hate to say it, but Inverey’s very existence could be deadly poison. Right now, Knightley just ain’t in a position to deal with him politically.

Hugh was trying to convince himself. If Prince Inverey remained in the Kingdom, the Federation would extend its tentacles in all kinds of ways. He doubted the Kingdom had the power to repel them, so it was better for Loris to be somewhere far away instead... Yeah, somewhere like the Empire. Handalieu wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on him so easily then.

Yup, this is for the best.

He repeated the thought again and again until he’d convinced himself, but of course, someone just had to make him doubt himself all over again.

“I sure hope the grand master won’t be angry with us,” Ryo muttered.

When Grand Master Finley Forsyth heard the news, however, he merely uttered, “I see.”

His expression remained unchanged, neither angry nor astonished. Even Hugh couldn’t read him.

Finley also understood the situation at the heart of his country’s statecraft. As the grand master of Knightley’s adventurers’ guilds, he was closer to the politics than anyone else here. He was aware of the high risks of inviting Prince Inverey and his family to the Kingdom under the current circumstances, but he’d had no choice but to offer asylum to Loris.

Fortunately, the Empire’s intervention solved the problem entirely. Although no one knew it, Finley was immensely relieved.

The three of them left Finley.

“He wasn’t mad at all, was he?” Ryo said.

“Why the heck do ya sound a tad disappointed, boy?” Hugh responded with a sigh.

“Oh, because Abel planted the idea in my mind.” Ryo casually fanned the flames he himself had lit, waving the smoke in Abel’s direction.

“Hey, you better not drag me into this. I swear...” Abel grumbled.

Ryo wasn’t done, though. “You’re so heartless, Abel.”

“Elaborate, you jerk.”

“You didn’t even try to help me, your adorable junior.”

“That’s ’cuz my adorable junior is trying to take me down with him. Any smart adventurer would shake off the arm clawing at him and run away as fast as possible.”

“Gasp! Where is your conscience?!”

“Dead and buried. Otherwise, you’d take advantage of it, Ryo.”

“How rude!”

Thus, Abel and Ryo continued their silly bickering.

◆

“Your Excellency, I come bearing news,” Lamber said, his gloomy expression betraying the fact that his report was anything but good.

“Tell me, have they found Prince Inverey’s body?”

“No... Last night, we received reports of an imperial flying battleship traveling near Fion toward the Kingdom-Federation border.”

“Preposterous!”

Even Lord Aubrey couldn’t contain his surprise. He knew that the Empire possessed a massive, floating battleship. Supposedly, Debuhi had only succeeded in building one thanks to an enormous magic stone from an ancient dragon. The rumor hadn’t been verified, but the Empire apparently considered the battleship an extremely valuable asset. If this flying battleship had been active near Fion, there was only one possible explanation.

“Prince Inverey has taken refuge in the Empire...”

Aubrey had considered the possibility, but he’d ultimately decided it wasn’t feasible for Loris to safely travel to the Empire. Loris’s far more likely course of action would have been temporary asylum in the Kingdom first, then exile in the Empire.

Unfortunately, the reality surpassed all of his expectations. It was stunning to think that the Empire—that the emperor himself—would mobilize such a valuable asset to a battlefield that had nothing to do with the safety of his own country.

“What a frighteningly cunning man, Rupert. I’d long since accepted that I am no competitor of his in the political arena, but I’d never thought he would best me even on the battlefield.” A corner of Aubrey’s mouth turned up in a self-deprecating smile. “Now the Empire has justification to interfere with the Federation whensoever it pleases. While Inverey himself may be difficult to deal with, his daughters are another story entirely...”

Lamber didn’t hear that last part.

“Lamber, I trust that isn’t all you have to report?”

“Quite right, my lord. The next update concerns the Kingdom’s adventurers. Evidently, they’ve already left the Fion Plains, though we have yet to receive any reports of them crossing the border.”

“I see. That leaves us little room to intervene further, hm? Better this way. I won’t risk any more casualties on our side.”

The Federation’s occupation of Inverey was only just beginning. Aubrey had to allocate military resources to maintain public order, so he wanted to avoid losing even a single soldier.

“Good grief... War will ever remain a clumsy solution. No one wants it, after all.”

“My lord?” Lamber said, blinking. He had never expected the Tactician himself to oppose war.

“Soldiers despise it the most, and for good reason. Winning without a fight is the greatest victory, you know. Lamentably, this is impossible for our Federation because of the damage we suffered ten years ago. In an ideal world, I would love nothing more than to resolve political conflict without resorting to bloodshed... Alas.”

The next day, the Handalieu Federation declared the annihilation and annexation of the Principality of Inverey to the rest of the Central Provinces. This was an annexation, not a colonization, meaning all former citizens of Inverey would be granted the same rights as citizens of the Federation.

Further, for the next ten years, the former Principality of Inverey would retain all its laws and tax rates. In other words, for the region’s citizens, nothing would change but who collected their taxes... Furthermore, any nobles within the Principality who swore allegiance to the Federation within a month would be allowed to continue to rule as before. However, like the commoners, they would now pay taxes to the Federation.

Occupied lands with lords who had been eliminated would be divided up according to the governing authority of each country, led by the Council of Ten, the Federation’s core government. The exception was Aberdeen, the Principality’s capital, which would remain under the direct control of the Federation government.

This announcement was broadcast all over Inverey. As the nation’s new ruler, the Federation seemed intent on conveying its desire to treat the people fairly. This was welcome news for many. Huge swathes of the population had fled to other countries before and during the war, leaving only the destitute and immobile. One couldn’t even become a refugee without a certain amount of financial security.

After a month, most of the remaining citizenry accepted the Federation’s rule.

◆

Emperor Rupert VI sat in his study in Markdorf, capital of the Debuhi Empire, and listened to Premier Hans Kirchhoff’s report.

“Loris, prince of Inverey, his family, and their attendants have safely arrived at the castle. Tomorrow, we shall hold an audience and announce their exile, after which they will be relocated to another manor for the duration of their stay.”

“Well done. Relocate them quickly, before those foolish nobles start clamoring. The sooner Inverey and his people have peace of mind, the better.”

Of course, Rupert didn’t say this out of kindness. Still, he wasn’t so cruel as to immediately try to take advantage of those who had just lost their country. He would allow them to focus on recovery, then put them to work once they were strong again.

Overwork them when they’re weak, and they may die before they’ve achieved sufficient results. Much like fishing.

Rupert recalled a long-ago fishing trip in his youth with a friend.

“I would also like to report on the economic situation across the Empire.”

“Do tell. Things are going well insofar as the grim outlook, I hope?”

Though unsure how he felt about using the word “well” to describe things, Premier Hans nodded. “Yes. Activity has remained stagnant for over a year in all industries. However...”

“However?” Rupert prompted.

“Some officials have said they wish to petition Your Majesty...”

“Hm, who could it be... Ah, I wager it’s Lorenz Kush. Am I right?” Rupert said with a grin.

“On the mark, my liege!” Hans was quite surprised.

No wonder too. Lorenz Kush was a young official in the Department of Finance, still in his twenties. Although he hadn’t accomplished anything noteworthy, he performed his work diligently, negotiating with his colleagues and the public to compile budgets. He often traveled outside the imperial castle to see the situation with his own eyes and made various proposals. That was why Hans had taken a liking to him and was training him to be a leader for the next generation.

Rupert wore the crown of a vast and powerful empire. To put it bluntly, he was in no position to waste his time or attention on trivial matters. Even so, he knew the name of a simple but talented young man, and even went so far as to guess that he was the one who suggested petitioning the government for more resources. It would be odd for someone not to be surprised by Rupert’s guess.

“So, what does he want? Stimulus measures and the like?”

“Yes. The economic downturn has lasted too long, and the people are suffering...”

“Huh. Mayhap I should explain it properly to him once. Bring him by tomorrow.” Despite his hectic schedule, the emperor was making time to see the bureaucrat.

“Understood.” Hans was grateful. “Then, for the time being, we maintain the current recession?”

“Yes. However, see to it that we continue to provide the people with basic necessities. Food, clothing, shelter.”

Hans nodded at Rupert’s instructions.

Now that he’d confirmed his economy’s persistent and steady decline, Rupert nodded in satisfaction. Then he said, “A nation should be creating and maintaining a thriving economy. If we fail to understand this fundamental issue, the whole country will fall apart. Most people don’t complain when the economy is good. And above all, public safety improves. Naturally, the inverse occurs when the economy is bad.”

“I couldn’t agree more. That is reason enough to foster an economic boom.” Hans nodded vigorously.

“When the government cuts taxes to encourage growth and continues to undertake projects, where do the funds come from?”

“Ah, yes. Where do they come from, Your Majesty?” Hans joked, already knowing the answer.

“Nowhere, of course.” Rupert smiled mildly. “How do you make up the revenue lost when you cut taxes? Certainly not by raising some other tax. After all, that wouldn’t be enough to drive growth since there are no alternative revenue sources. The answer is government bonds, which are issued to cover the costs when it must create an economic boom quickly and increase revenue.”

“Ah, but issuing too many government bonds is bad for the country’s credibility,” Hans said with a chuckle, and Rupert laughed too.

“The question then becomes, what is a country’s credibility based on? Its power and its neighbors’ perception of that ‘power.’ Certainly not the amount of debt it has.”

“Power, you say...”

“Yes, power. Military and economic power. And I suppose scientific and technological power, and even alchemical. Countries implement domestic policies to protect their various apparatuses of power projection. In some cases, those policies hinder free competition. But I say, so what? Surely that’s better than a free market at the cost of widespread discontent? I would rather not put the cart before the horse, thank you.”

“And that is what the Empire’s domestic manufacturing subsidies are for, yes? To prevent factories from moving abroad.”

“Exactly. We are a great power. Our wages are high. Naturally, trading companies would look to set up factories in other countries with low labor and supply costs. Our government can then import those products, allowing us to cheaply provision our people and ultimately raise profits. But suppose something happened and those goods could no longer reach us. The people would revolt. Ergo, the government must provide subsidies even in peacetime to ensure domestic manufacturing remains more profitable for trading companies than overseas production. That is what makes a country strong. Domestic manufacturing is related to military power, economic strength, and scientific and technological prowess.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Hans nodded along.

“Another thing to note is that these combined efforts create a surplus, which affords the Empire the ability to respond quickly and effectively when a problem arises, even in peacetime. Some might consider such a surplus waste, but this ‘waste’ will save the people in an emergency. Alas, no matter how hard I try to explain it, I simply can’t get this across.”

Maintaining a surplus, which appears to be waste in peacetime, is incredibly difficult. That’s because the masses, who don’t know any better, always cry out, “Eliminate waste!”

“You couldn’t be more right, my lord... The younger officials are especially guilty. And yet, they only panic when something drastic occurs...”

“Unfortunately, there is no changing human nature. It’s particularly impossible when they have no experience or imagination. I firmly believe they will understand once they see for themselves how a surplus can save people during a crisis. However, that is its own challenge. Then again... Mayhap the wording is the problem? Should we call it ‘stockpile’ instead of ‘waste’? But then there are issues associated with that too. Would I then say ‘stockpile is high’ or ‘stockpile is low’ to make my point? This bears more thought, eh?” Rupert smiled ruefully.

“As you say, Your Majesty...” Hans shook his head in response.

“In any case, let us return to the topic of a country’s credibility. Frankly, if a country is strong, its credit won’t plummet no matter how many bonds it issues.” Rupert took a breath. “It’s not easy to maintain a country with all these factors. Should the people overseeing the government become complacent, the country’s future will begin to spiral. Then the end is always the same.”

“Which would be?”

“War or insurrection. History has proven this.”

The next day, two people arrived at the emperor’s study in Markdorf Castle: Premier and Count Hans Kirchhoff, a regular visitor, and a young man visiting for the first time. Anyone could tell by his stiff demeanor how nervous the latter was.

“Good, you’re here,” Emperor Rupert VI said as he checked and signed the documents on his desk. “I’ll be just a moment. Have a seat over there.”

However, they couldn’t. Even Hans remained standing in front of a chair. The nervous young man next to him did the same.

“I told you both to sit, did I not?” With a wry smile, Rupert walked over to them.

At that moment, a chamberlain brought coffee for them. When Rupert sat on the sofa, the two finally sat across from him. The coffee had come at the perfect time.

“This is Blue Mountain coffee. It came from Twilightland yesterday. The Kingdom’s Kona is fairly good, but I much prefer this one.”

Rupert reached for his cup and inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma, and then took a sip. The other two followed suit. With the scent of coffee filling the air, they spent a few moments relaxing.

Lorenz Kush had been confused since that morning. The evening before, he had been summoned to Premier Kirchhoff’s office.

“I shall be visiting His Majesty tomorrow,” Kirchhoff told him, “and you’re to come with me. Be frank with him.”

“Y-You wish for me to speak directly to the emperor?”

“Yes. He personally requested your presence, Lorenz, so he could explain a few things. Be sure to conduct yourself in a mannerly fashion.”

From the bottom of his heart, he wanted to scream, “I can’t!” Instead, he said, “That’s impossible. Please, just let me submit my petition in writing.” But everything had already been decided, so Lorenz wailed in panic and despair internally instead.

The average imperial subject regarded Emperor Rupert VI in awe. There were a few reasons for this. Since ascending to the throne in his twenties, he had ruthlessly purged and demoted many of the country’s nobles and annexed small nations now in the western and northern parts of the Empire. In the same period, he had personally reprimanded high-ranking bureaucrats and other officials working in the imperial capital, so they feared him even more than the common folk. Of course, the censures had been well-deserved and hadn’t applied to talented personnel such as Hans.

Now, Lorenz was sitting across from that formidable man—the same man he was supposed to petition. He had wanted to submit a written report instead to avoid having to talk face-to-face with such a supreme being.

“Right then, Lorenz.”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty!” Lorenz said, looking tense as a block of ice.

Rupert smiled ruefully at Lorenz, then turned to Hans. “I thought a spot of coffee might relax him a bit... But it seems I was wrong.”

“Everyone holds you in the highest regard, Your Majesty, so...” Hans shook his head with a wry chuckle.

“Regard, eh? Necessary for an emperor, but a pain in my arse in a situation like this. How about a promise, then? Lorenz, no matter what you say here, you won’t be punished for it.”

“Un— Under—”

Nothing changed.

“Hans, that didn’t work. He’s still tense.”

“Evidently,” Hans said with a sigh. His expression suggested there was nothing to be done about it.

Rupert resigned himself. “All right, Lorenz, you’re here because you are concerned for the people, are you not?”

Those words brought the young man back to his usual self. Yes, he had decided to accept the invitation to tell their leader about how difficult life was for their people. The reason for their suffering was obvious: the terrible economy.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have enough to eat today. Even though some were in such dire straits, the government’s soup kitchens and other services were helping most stave off starvation. With that said, a poor economy robbed people of their desire to dream of a better future. A poor economy hardened people’s hearts.

This phenomenon was widespread throughout the Empire. These citizens were the reason they had to take measures to revive the economy—the reason Lorenz had come here in the first place!

“Your Imperial Majesty, I will be perfectly blunt: The people are exhausted. The economic downturn has dragged on, and morale is at an all-time low. We must take measures to revive the economy immediately.”

He handed over the stack of papers he’d brought with him. It listed potential economic interventions, how to implement them, their effects, the time and cost involved, the logistics, and other things. Rupert read through the entire stack and was pleased to find that all the data made it a perfect proposal.

“Excellent work, lad.”

“Th-Then you agree?!”

“Nevertheless, I will not allow these policies to be instituted at this time.”

“Why not?!” Lorenz shouted, forgetting himself. Then he quickly came to his senses, remembering he was yelling at Emperor Rupert VI, his country’s absolute authority, not some person he’d run into on the street.

“I invited you here today to answer that very question,” Rupert replied, finishing the last of his Blue Mountain coffee before beginning his explanation. “First of all, the current recession is the result of a policy decision.”

“What?” Lorenz couldn’t believe his ears. “Wh-What do you mean?” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. None of it made any sense.

“Lorenz, you’re a bureaucrat with the Department of Finance, yes? So tell me, do you recall the state of the economy seven years ago?”

“I do... We were prospering. Not just here in the capital, but throughout the Empire...”

“Correct. Do you know why?”

Lorenz considered for a moment. “Because of the Great War?”

“Correct again.” Rupert nodded happily and looked at Hans. “He’s got a better head on his shoulders than you, eh?”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, Your Majesty.” Hans shrugged.

“No!” Lorenz interjected, panicking. “Th-That’s not true at all!”

“Lorenz, dear boy, no need for modesty here,” Hans said. “Now then, Your Majesty, would you be so kind as to elaborate on why the Great War was the source of our prosperity?”

“The Handalieu Federation and the Kingdom of Knightley lost many workshops and trading companies during the conflict, resulting in a loss of production capacity across numerous industries. Even after the war ended, it was not easy to restore the destroyed factories or their supply chains. Consequently, they began importing many of the raw materials they needed from our country, along with the tools used in manufacturing. Our merchants saw a new market suddenly appear and produced a great deal and sold just as much. Naturally, the economy boomed.”

“Indeed.” Hans nodded and reached for his cup. However, he found himself disappointed when he realized it was already empty. Just then, a butler appeared with a fresh pot of coffee and served him. He beamed with joy.

Glancing at him, Rupert continued. “Lorenz, look at his expression. Does it not resemble the face of prosperity?”

Unable to agree with him, Lorenz could only stutter a few ums and ahs.

“And that is why our country is currently in a recession.”

“Huh?”

“We can’t send prosperous people into battle. War cannot be started during good times.”

“I... What...” Lorenz was struck speechless.

Emperor Rupert VI had deliberately caused the economic downturn so he could start a war?

“Let me steer the conversation back to the original topic. The emergence of new markets leads to an economic boom, yet those markets inevitably close. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes. After the Federation and the Kingdom recovered from the war and reconstructed their workshops and trading companies, neither needed to import from our country. But our factories had already increased production capacity and hired new employees to meet the prior demand, which eventually left many without work...”

“Exactly. What, then, is the inevitable result of a sudden market decline after a meteoric rise? A terrible recession. Depressions occur when bubbles burst. It was necessary to slow down our economy before it burst. That’s why we implemented a major tax increase five years ago, to cool down an overheated economy.”

“But the recession... It still persists...”

“Yes. But had we allowed the economy to collapse at its initial trajectory, the downturn would have been much more severe.”

Rupert took a sip of his refilled Blue Mountain Coffee and paused.

Lorenz mulled over everything he had just been told.

“Those tax increases were not to increase revenue, but to rein in the economy,” Rupert said. “So, conversely, if we wanted to improve the economy, we would slash taxes, wouldn’t we?”

“I suppose...” Lorenz said with a nod.

“Then you must be wondering why we did not cut taxes and instead allowed a recession to continue indefinitely?” Rupert stared intently at Lorenz, gauging his response.

“Because you had a reason to do so deliberately?”

“Very good. As I mentioned, our Empire continues its recessionary policy because we will eventually find ourselves in a war. While I feel sorry for our people, a number of factors have come together to bring us to this point.”

“War breaks out when the economy is bad...”

“The economy is bad because money isn’t circulating. Many, including the government, simply aren’t spending. Consumption is sluggish. Now, what is the greatest form of consumption for a nation?”

Lorenz puzzled over Rupert’s question but couldn’t find an answer.

“War,” Hans answered instead.

Realization suddenly hit Lorenz. War was the largest macroeconomic consumption event. Even normal manufactory capacity was diverted to producing materials for large-scale use on the battlefield.

“Indeed. Of course, our annexations of small countries in the north and west don’t amount to war. Considering the size of the Empire’s economy, those conflicts were skirmishes. They won’t have the slightest impact on our economy.”

“Which makes our next opponent...” Lorenz stopped short, feeling like he shouldn’t continue.

“The Shadow Regiment has already infiltrated our enemy, and various other preparations are underway. However, we are still a few months from all-out war. Nevertheless, the advent of it will spur economic recovery, don’t you think?”

“Your Majesty... Is this war absolutely necessary?”

Lorenz knew the question was outside the scope of his work. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes, it is. And there are more than a few reasons, some of which cannot be resolved by diplomacy alone.” Then Rupert lowered his voice to a whisper. “The crown of an emperor is stained with sin.”

Roughly five minutes later, Ryo removed his right hand from Elizabeth’s forehead. He had the feeling she was completely back to normal. The elf herself was probably aware of the change too. She opened her eyes, closed for so long, gazed at Ryo, then bowed gracefully.

“Thank you.”

When she heard those words, Leonore rushed over to Elizabeth and embraced her.

“Oh, thank goodness... Thank goodness you’re all right, Elizabeth.”

“I-It— It hurts, Lady Leonore. You’re squeezing me too hard.”

With tears in her eyes, Leonore couldn’t contain her happiness. Elizabeth smiled happily and hugged her back. Ryo watched them, nodding in satisfaction. He was happy that he’d been able to help—her? Them? A moment later, Leonore turned to face him.

“Ryo, you have my thanks.” She bowed deeply.

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much except touch her forehead.”

Even though they’d fought to the death twice, seeing the akuma so grateful made him feel awkward. He definitely wouldn’t feel that way if a certain fire magician ever bowed to him... It was just a strange exchange all around.

“Now, don’t be so modest. You accomplished something only you could have done, and what an impressive feat it was. So, once more, as a token of my appreciation, I grant you the right to fight me!”

“No, thank you,” he flatly returned.

Leonore pursed her lips in dissatisfaction.

“Be honest and admit that it’s you who wants to fight, Lady Leonore,” Elizabeth added pointedly.

“Fine. I won’t deny it.” Leonore nodded obediently. “But I know Ryo wishes to as well, somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. I’m absolutely certain.”

“Why would you assume that?” He sighed deeply.

“Because you seemed to enjoy our bouts so much.” Leonore sulked even more, the displeasure growing stronger on her face.

“The heck I did,” Ryo grumbled, surprised.

“What, don’t tell me you didn’t know? Shall I tell you how you practically beam during a fight? Have you no other sparring partners? Ask them. I’m sure they’ll tell you much the same,” she said confidently.

Ryo mulled over what she said.

Now that I think about it, Sera fights with a faint smile on her face... Wait, maybe I do too?

“In any case, after all you’ve done for me, I can’t just let you leave without thanking you properly. Ryo, is there aught you desire? I’ll grant as many of your wishes as I’m able.”

Someone could have easily misconstrued her words as some kind of Faustian bargain...

“Do you really expect me to think of something off the top of my head?”

“Fair enough. Then let me think... Mayhap a country to rule? If so, I could slaughter Knightley’s royal family and give you the Kingdom?”

“Please, please don’t do that.”

Not only was Leonore’s proposal outrageous, it was positively devilish. He didn’t have to think twice about rejecting it, especially because he had no interest in running a country at the moment.

“Hmmn... A companion, then? They say heroes love women, after all. I’ll bring you the finest, most beautiful women from all over the world.”

Ryo hesitated, imagining Leonore as one of the women in the harem she offered. Even if she was an akuma, she was still stunning. “Please don’t do that either.”

“Oh? Me?” Cheeks slightly flushed, Leonore gazed coquettishly up at Ryo like she’d read his mind. “Well, if that is truly what you desire, I suppose I could give you ten years of my life. What say you?”

“No, you’re wrong! I wasn’t thinking that at all!” Ryo hastily replied.

“No country, no women...” She cocked her head. “So what do you want?”

At the rate this bizarre conversation was going, she might come up with another strange idea—so Ryo decided to get ahead of her.

“I want you to answer my questions.”

“What? That’s all you want?”

“Yes. Knowledge is power. There are things I want to know, but I can’t seem to find any information on them.”

“Well, ’tis true, knowledge is power... However... It would be such a waste to give you all the answers, wouldn’t it?” Leonore paused for a moment, then held two fingers toward Ryo. “I’ll answer two of your questions. However, I must warn you that there are some things I simply can’t discuss.”

A couple of minutes passed, yet Ryo remained silent, deep in thought. He only had two questions. Several topics came to mind right away, but it was taking him a while to narrow it down.

Leonore stirred impatiently. “Ryo—”

“I got it!” he interjected.

“Very well. Proceed.”

“All right, the first one: What am I?”

“Pardon?” Leonore asked, blinking in confusion.

Elizabeth, who had been watching their exchange from the side, tilted her head.

Ryo, meanwhile, looked quite pleased with himself for finally narrowing down his questions. However, he certainly hadn’t anticipated Leonore not understanding his question, that much was obvious.

For thirty seconds, no one said a word.

“Forgive me, Ryo, but I don’t know what you mean.” Leonore’s expression was apologetic. When she saw how much her response shocked him, she rushed to continue. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but perhaps you ask about the fae drops overflowing from you—about why you possess such a unique constitution? Something of that sort?”

Ryo tipped his head thoughtfully. “Sort of. What I meant exactly was whether I’m human or not...”

“Ah, I see. Well, that depends on your definition of human. But... Yes, I think you are.”

“‘Depends on your definition’? Care to elaborate?”

What a vague answer.

“Humans have two legs and two arms, and heads mounted on necks. Just like us,” Leonore explained. “However, unlike us, they have no horns or tails, and they speak a language only other humans can understand. Are these conditions not unique to humans?”

“Oh, hm, now that you mention it...” Ryo couldn’t help but nod at Leonore’s explanation, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“That reminds me. There have been people in the past who, like you, exuded fairy drops.”

“Huh?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“I would say roughly ten thousand—no, fifty thousand years ago. In any case, quite a long time ago.”

The oldest civilization on Earth is said to be Mesopotamia, centered around the Sumerians. The first dynasty of Ur, which included the famous King Gilgamesh, dates back to 4000 BC. That’s six thousand years before the twenty-first century.

So Leonore’s mention of a time ten thousand years ago gave Ryo some idea of just how incredibly long ago it must have been. Frankly, something that far in the past would seem like nothing more than legend or myth on Earth... However, many different races inhabited Phi. While he’d yet to meet a god, an akuma stood before his eyes. Elves were long-lived, and he thought the dragons in the Forest of Rondo probably were too. The one he’d met spoke of time spanning hundreds of thousands of years... Needless to say, time was a little different on Phi.

“Well, whether it’s ten or fifty thousand years, it doesn’t matter. Either one’s a very long time ago for me.”

For now, Ryo thought he was probably human. According to Leonore, people “like him” had existed in the past. Of course, learning all this didn’t mean much since nothing would change. Still, he didn’t want to neglect his curiosity—he wanted to cherish it.

“All right, now for my second question.”

“I’m glad you’re satisfied with my answer to the first. Go on, then.”

“Where’s the vampires’ country?”

“Curses...” Leonore muttered. This time, she took even longer to answer—she likely hadn’t expected this question either. “I must say, this one is nothing like your first. You wish to know where the vampires live, eh? Well, I’m not sure whether I’m allowed to answer that. Let me ask you something in return, Ryo: Why are you so certain it exists?”

“Um, about that... We fought a vampire the other day. He let it slip that he was an earl or something...”

“O-Oh... I see...” Leonore sighed and shook her head. “’Tis all just speculation, mind you, but I believe vampires wouldn’t want humans to know of their existence. Do you know the history of the conflict between the two races?”

“A little bit. Apparently, it was especially bad in the Western Provinces?”

“Indeed. Thus, though I owe you a debt, Ryo, my conscience wouldn’t let me rest easy if I divulged the location of their homeland.”

“Understood. Then don’t worry about it. Really.”

He decided not to push any further. In fact, this conversation only solidified his suspicion.

It’s somewhere in the Central Provinces.

If it had been in the Western Provinces, Leonore would have probably mentioned the “Far West” or something so she could keep her answer vague enough to protect the vampires but good enough to satisfy her need to repay him for saving Elizabeth. But the fact that she hadn’t said that hinted that it was nearby... A place he might even visit in the future. In other words, somewhere in the Central Provinces.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to act on the knowledge. He had no plants to go vampire hunting. He’d just wanted to satisfy his curiosity. Although, in hindsight, he now wondered if it had been a good idea to take up one of the two valuable question slots just to satisfy his curiosity...

“Thank you, Leonore.”

“Not at all. I’m sorry I couldn’t offer clearer answers, especially for the second question. Right then. ’Tis high time we return. We created this cloister by pooling all our strength, but it seems we’re reaching our limit.”

“Got it. Thank you again for sharing such valuable information with me.”

Ryo bowed politely again.

“No, ’tis I who should be thanking you for saving Elizabeth.”

Leonore bowed politely back, and so did the elf next to her.

What a truly Japanese scene.

And then, the two of them vanished.

Early the next morning, after Ryo had helped her—them?—he felt a measure of regret. Leonore had said she would give him anything he wanted, so why hadn’t he asked for a golem?

Watching Ryo sigh despondently, Abel muttered, “Bet you’re thinking of something stupid again, something that won’t help anyone or make the world a better place.”

Poor Ryo, always underappreciated.

◆

“The Study,” as it was commonly called, was a private library filled with an enormous collection of books. Today, its owner was engrossed in one of the tomes when he detected a certain aroma that made him lift his head. It’d be arriving soon, placed right on the table before him: black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, and sweet as love...

“Ahhh. Thank you.”

He reached for the freshly brewed coffee and inhaled the rich scent.

“My lord, Lord Dras wishes to make a report,” the butler announced after he’d served his master.

“Very well,” the owner said with a nod. “Show him in.”

“I have two pieces of news, my lord. First, the prince of Inverey has formally accepted the Debuhi Empire’s offer of asylum. Second, we have identified the individuals involved in Earl Haskill’s annihilation.”

“Tell me more about the latter.”

“Of course. Earl Kalinikos Haskill disappeared in the southern region of the Kingdom of Knightley. Specifically, in a territory directly in the royal family’s control. Those present at the time of his death were Hugh McGlass, master of Lune’s adventurers’ guild, a four-person D-rank party, and the Hero, Roman, and his party.”

The master of the building tilted his head quizzically. “Not only Master McGlass, but the Hero as well? Quite an impressive cast of characters. I find it exceedingly difficult to believe it was just a coincidence.”

“I agree. Evidently, the Hero’s party was staying in Lune at the time, which explains their accompanying Master McGlass to the village of Kona.”

“Interesting.”

The master of the estate gazed fondly at the coffee in front of him. Today, he was drinking a brew from Kona instead of the locally grown Blue Mountain Coffee.

“I question whether the Hero’s Astarte is even capable of destroying Kalinikos. The same goes for Master McGlass’s Galahad. Their unique abilities as holy swords could... Hmm, perhaps one stopped the power to regenerate? Whatever the case, neither man is an ordinary opponent. One alone may have been too much for Kalinikos to handle by himself,” the elegant man murmured impassively.

“Indeed. However, I’m concerned about the clergyman in the Hero’s party...” His subordinate trailed off, hesitating for the first time.

“Oh? One has always been a member of the Hero’s party. Who is it now?”

“Archbishop Graham,” his subordinate said, teeth clenched in frustration.

“The Head Inquisitor himself...? Well, well.” The man smiled gently. He didn’t carry the anger Kalinikos had felt toward Graham or the frustration his subordinate ground between his teeth; instead, his smile showed nothing but plain, simple sadness.

“Graham...” he murmured, voice too soft to be overheard. “Such a pity...”

◆

A week had passed since South Division of the Kingdom’s expeditionary force returned to Lune. Any weapon—both the firearms on Earth and the swords on Phi—needed regular upkeep. While adventurers and knights alike maintained their own weapons, it was also common for people to get their blades serviced by a blacksmith they knew once every month or two.

Lune, the largest city on the frontier, was home to many blacksmiths. The artisan district, which hosted their workshops, was located near the west gate.

At the moment, Sera and Ryo were standing in front of one such workshop—Master Doran’s.

“Hello, Master!” Sera called out as they opened the door and stepped inside.

“Be right with ya,” a low, male voice answered from the back of the shop. A few seconds later, a short, squat, bearded man in his fifties emerged.

He looks like Berlocke from the Hero’s party! A dwarven blacksmith, a standard isekai trope! I wonder if there’s any conflict between elves and dwarves... Or will this stubborn dwarf kick us out of the shop with a “We don’t sell our weapons to the likes of you!” Are we about to find ourselves in a throwdown?!

For whatever reason, Ryo’s excitement had taken a strange turn.

“Hey there, Miss Sera. Maintenance time again, eh?”

“It is indeed. As always, I’m counting on you.”

She placed her sheathed sword on the table.

“You got it.” Master Doran looked at Ryo. “And who’s the magician?”

“Oh, this is Ryo,” Sera replied. “He’s accompanying me.”

“You don’t say. Well, hate to disappoint, but I only carry metal armor, being a blacksmith and all. No staves either, but— Wait, you don’t even have one.”

He looked Ryo up and down, confirming that he was empty-handed. His surprise was warranted, since magicians usually carried staves. Without one, a magician supposedly needed ten times the mana to cast a spell that was a tenth as effective. That was why magicians and staves were considered inextricably linked.

“My philosophy is to not use a staff...” Ryo answered with a nod.

“Well... Takes all kinds, eh?”

“Ryo excels at melee combat too. I’m of the opinion he’s better with a sword than a staff. His swordsmanship is on par with mine,” Sera said like a proud mother.

Master Doran’s eyes widened.

“High praise coming from you, Miss Sera. That reminds me... I heard back at the manor about some adventurer who trains with you every day. This must be him, huh?”

“It is indeed.” Sera smiled and nodded eagerly.

Ryo looked puzzled. “The manor?”

“Right, you don’t know. Master Doran is a part of the margrave’s special atelier. He’s a very skilled blacksmith, you see. His Lordship wouldn’t leave such an outstanding talent to his own devices.”

“Stop, or my head will grow twice its size.” Master Doran’s face was bright red. He was a good man and not the stubborn, cranky dwarf Ryo had expected. He even got along very well with Sera, an elf...

“Speaking of my lord’s atelier, we’ve got a new member, a highly skilled artisan. I was just talking to him before you two walked in. Master Abraham!” Doran called toward the back of the shop.

A moment later, an old man stepped out.

“What can I do for you?” he said.

Ryo studied for a moment. “Mr. Abraham Louis?” he asked, recognizing him. “The watchmaker?”

“That’d be me. Oh ho, we meet again, for the third time too. When was the first time again? Right, you were with the young man who bought the rapid-fire crossbow in Whitnash.”

“You have an excellent memory. I never told you my name. I’m Ryo, a water magician.”

Abraham Louis was an old man who originally ran a shop specializing in bows and crossbows in Whitnash. Since their first meeting there, he’d moved to Lune and opened a new shop near the east gate.

“Miss Sera, I see your robed friend knows Master Abraham.”

“That’s right. One of my friends bought a weapon from him.”

“Which means you’re familiar with his skills, right?” Doran asked.

“I am, and they’re quite impressive,” Ryo said.

Abraham flushed. “Dagnabbit, this is embarrassing.”

“Right then, Miss Sera, your sword should be ready by the afternoon. Now, Ryo, was it? You take good care of your blade?” Master Doran asked him.

“You know, I just realized I’ve never actually seen your sword before, Ryo.” Sera looked at him too, curious.

Though they sparred almost every day, he used a dulled practice weapon from the training ground’s armory.

“I don’t think I need to maintain mine, but it would be nice to have a professional’s opinion. Here they are.”

Ryo took out Murasame and the Michael-made knife from his waist and placed them on the table.

“Bloody hell...” Master Doran muttered, astonished.

“It can’t be...” Abraham said.

A beat of silence passed, then Doran shook his head. “But... No... Is this real? I’m not dreaming, am I?” he muttered to himself. “Never thought I’d get to see it in my lifetime...”

Sera ignored both blacksmiths and beamed at Ryo. “The Fairy King’s sword as well?! Between this and your robe, he obviously took a liking to you!”

“So this is the Fairy King’s sword...” Doran said. “I’d only heard rumors about it, so I wasn’t sure myself.”

Abraham nodded vigorously. “All this time, I thought it was a legend.”

“Ryo, can it produce a blade? Please, I wish to see!” Sera begged, excitement on her face.

“Ask and ye shall receive.” Ryo, not entirely opposed to her pleading, picked up Murasame and generated a blade of ice.

“Wow. How beautiful...” Sera was half spellbound by the shining blue ice blade.

Ryo, meanwhile, was enthralled by her expression.

Doran and Abraham looked at the elf and water magician first, then Murasame, and finally groaned in unison.

Doran’s gaze suddenly switched to the knife made by Fake Michael. He went motionless, his eyes wide in shock, but no one noticed his odd behavior.

Ryo dispelled Murasame’s blade and tucked the sword back on his waist, then smoothly picked up the knife on the table and stowed that away too.

“My goodness, what an absolute visual treat. All right, Ryo, I’ve decided where we’re having lunch today. Master Doran, I shall see you later.”

The blacksmith remained frozen, and the two left the workshop, still blithely unaware of his state.

“I should be heading home too, Master. I’ll see you at the manor.”

Then Abraham Louis left the shop too.

As for Doran, he had yet to move an inch...

Sera’s and Ryo’s voices filtered in from outside.

“After the trouble in the capital, a restaurant opened up near the west gate. They apparently serve a delicious dish called ‘hamburg.’”

“‘Hamburg’? No... Could it be... Hamburg steaks?!”

“The chef is from Twilightland. It’s right around the corner from here, so onward and forward!”

◆

It didn’t take long for Ryo’s life to return to normal once he’d returned from the Principality of Inverey. In the morning, he woke up as the sun rose, did his stretches, and practiced his swings. He made and ate breakfast, spent the morning working on alchemy and magic, and had lunch at one of the restaurants near the east gate, mainly The Fill-Up Station.

In the afternoon, he sparred with Sera at the knights’ training grounds and occasionally dropped by the library or the Lune branch of Gekko’s company. He ate dinner on his way home, made sure to be back in his house before it got too late, took a bath, and went to bed.

The forces that disrupted Ryo’s regular routine could be divided into two categories. First were the members of Room 10, otherwise known as his former roommates. The other was Abel, who had earned the necessary points on the expedition to Inverey to finally become an A-rank adventurer.

That meant that the Crimson Sword was now officially A-rank too. Incidentally, the only other active A-rank party in the Kingdom was based in the royal capital, making the Crimson Sword just the second one to achieve that rank.

A week had gone by since Ryo and Sera’s hamburg lunch. Ryo and Room 10 attended Abel’s rank-up ceremony. Nils was moved to tears. From next to him, Eto did his best to calm him down. Amon, meanwhile, thought about how he’d one day accomplish the same thing as Abel.

And Ryo? He stood there with his arms crossed and nodded enthusiastically, like a parent happy to see their child all grown up. He might have even been thinking he raised Abel.

Obviously, that thought never crossed Abel’s mind.

On a morning a few days after the ceremony, Abel visited Ryo’s house.

“I may be a tad too early...” he muttered. He took out his pocket watch and checked the time. Still only eight o’clock. He knew Ryo would probably be awake, but Abel hesitated in front of the house, wondering what to do.

While he dithered, the back door on the right opened, and Sera emerged.

“Oh, hello, Abel,” she called out. “You’re early.”

“Uh, morning, Sera...”

“I almost forgot. Congratulations on attaining A-rank. His Lordship was quite pleased, you know.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, I’m in a hurry, so I’ll be seeing you.”

With that, Sera vanished in a gust of wind.

It was a few moments before Abel realized she’d used wind magic to travel at high speed.

When Abel came to his senses, the door through which Sera had exited opened, and this time, Ryo stepped out.

“I thought I heard a voice. Ah, it was you, Abel. Unusual for you to be out and about so early, hm?”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, no. Wait, I...” Abel answered, stammering.

“What is it? If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Well, I just bumped into Sera on her way out and...”

“And?”

“Did she stay the night?” Abel asked, his face bright red. He seemed unaccustomed to that sort of thing, despite being a grown man in his mid-twenties.

“Abel, Abel, Abel...” Ryo sighed and went back inside without answering him.

“Hey, wait a sec!” He hurriedly followed.

The smell of something delicious cooking wafted through the air, but Abel couldn’t see any food on the table—just a stack of papers. The margrave’s crest was visible on the topmost sheet.

“Sera brought that over a short while ago,” Ryo explained. “We also ate breakfast together. The knights have a surprise monster hunt training today, and of course, as their teacher, she has to be there for the evaluation. She came to tell me that there’d be no mock battle this afternoon.”

As he spoke, he briskly ground coffee beans in a mill made by Gekko’s company. Compared to the mortar and pestle he’d been using up until now, it worked much better, making it his favorite tool recently.

“G-Gotcha.” Now that he knew Sera hadn’t stayed overnight, the flush dissipated from Abel’s face, and his complexion returned to its normal color.

“So, what are these? Can I take a peek?”

“Sure, but you probably won’t understand. They have to do with alchemy.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate me. I’ll admit I can’t use alchemy, but I do know— Uh, I know some...some, uh...” His voice trailed off, growing quieter and quieter as he read through the papers. He couldn’t understand much of what was written. The only words he could make out were “Baron Kenneth Hayward” and “Vedra.”

Meanwhile, Ryo poured the finished coffee into cups made of ice. He placed one in front of himself and the other in front of Abel.

“Those documents contain information about the arcane weapon we saw used in Inverey.”

“The one that blasted that green light from the spire?!”

Abel remembered it too. South Division had been watching the whole thing from the top of the cliff above the narrow pass.

“Precisely. Apparently, that was a replica of the original called ‘Vedra,’ which Kenneth made in the Royal Center for Alchemy.”

“Damn. I knew it.”

Abel finally learned the answer to the question that had been on his mind since he first saw the weapon in the Principality.

“Unfortunately, it looks like the technology was stolen. Of course, not from Kenneth. He isn’t that stupid. Most likely someone from the Ministry of Domestic Affairs, since it has jurisdiction over the Center. Those particular details are also in the report.”

Ryo took a sip of his Kona coffee, satisfied with the taste. The incongruity between his words and nonchalant expression was enough to give someone whiplash.

“How the hell do you even have access to this kind of info in the first place?”

“Weeeell... Do you remember the golems that countered the Vedra copy? I submitted a report to the margrave on how they did it. I went through the guild, though, not directly. And in return, I asked for any information he could provide about the green light, and that’s what they delivered.”

The light the golems had emitted from their hands was based on the same concept as the pistol shrimp that had knocked Ryo unconscious in the ocean. Despite the humiliating memory, it had given him tremendous insight into the mechanism.

“Right, you said something about small lightning bolts.”

Abel could only recall fragments of Ryo’s explanation. Even though he’d told his friend he understood, he hadn’t then and didn’t now.

“Abel... Don’t you worry. You have your sword, so you’ll be just fine. Even if you can’t do anything else.”

“Ryo, old buddy, old pal. One of these days you’re gonna regret underestimating me.”

Ryo blinked, stunned. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

“And when that day comes, I’m gonna make you cry like a baby!”

◆

“Oh, right.” Ryo cheerfully clapped his hands. “I have a question I’d really like to ask an A-rank swordsman.”

Abel eyed him narrowly. “You’ve got some balls saying that to me right after making fun of me.”

“Abel, you know, the ability to quickly shift your mindset is vital.”

“And whose fault do you think it is that I refuse to?!”

“Yours, of course. They say attitude is everything. So you really need to work on yours, Abel.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Abel sighed, defeated. “So what’s your question?”

“It’s about Combat Skills. I heard that only those who can’t use magic can master them. Is that true?”

Abel arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t expecting that. Who told you?”

“Sera and Phelps.”

Sera of the Wind and Phelps of the White Brigade were B-rank adventurers based in Lune.

“Yeah, it’s probably true.”

“Probably?”

“Yup. Supposedly, you can’t even pick up a Combat Skill unless you’re really strong. That’s why there isn’t much information available. On top of that, they only became widespread about a hundred years ago. I told you about that before, right?”

“Yes, when my arm was chopped off.”

Abel had mentioned it on the way back to Lune from the capital, after Leonore had cut off Ryo’s arm.

“You’re the only one I know who’d laugh while telling that story. I will say this—you have guts, my friend.” Abel shook his head in amused exasperation. “Anyway, after our chat, I got curious and did some research of my own. Apparently, Combat Skills came from the west.”

“The west?”

To the west of the Kingdom lay the Western Forest, where the elves lived. Beyond that, a mountain range towered. No one traveled there.

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I don’t think the elves are involved. Case in point, Sera. She’s incredible with a sword, but she doesn’t use Combat Skills.”

“Hmm... And the mysteries deepen.”

Another puzzle for Ryo to add to his increasingly lengthy list.

Epilogue

In the white realm, Fake Michael attended to his duties as manager of several worlds. He held the usual stone tablet in his hands.

“Dominus Ryo Mihara, on this occasion, you intervened in the war in the east. You are indeed walking the path of strife. Almost as if lured down that road by others... Oh?”

Fake Michael tilted his head slightly.

“All roads lead to this country... Next is the west, hm? However, that place will prove a challenge, even for you. Perhaps you may even shuffle off your mortal coil? The fact that I can see both a future in which you live and one in which you die means that either is equally likely for you. No wonder, really, since these people are...tough. I do so hope you survive, Dominus Ryo Mihara.”

The Fire Magician V: Prelims

“Oscar, your next match is in five days?”

“Yes, Your Highness. If I win two more battle royale preliminaries, I’ll make it through as one of the sixty-four finalists.”

“It goes without saying that I have high hopes for you, but please take care not to get hurt. Your well-being is the most important thing.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

Even though her request was fairly unreasonable, considering it was a fighting tournament, Oscar nevertheless bowed his head obediently. He knew that Fiona’s words came from the bottom of her heart.

Listening to their conversation, Rupert nodded along while signing documents. Of course, Hans sat across from him in the carriage, supporting him with his work.

“Hans, surely you can free me temporarily from this mountain of paperwork while we’re on the road?”

“Your Majesty, that will only create a larger pile afterward.”

At times like these, Hans refused to budge even an inch.

Watching them, Oscar and Fiona spoke in whispers.

“My father has it quite tough as the emperor, hm...”

“Indeed. Reach a high enough position and all that awaits you is a ton of paperwork.”

“Despite being a marchioness of great import, Lady Maria still manages to lead a very elegant life... I’d rather become an adult like her... But that doesn’t mean I don’t respect my father. I very much do!”

Rupert heard those words too and wept inside.

Five days later, Oscar’s second preliminary took place. Fiona had visited the colosseum that day to watch him fight from the seats reserved for the imperial family.

“Good luck, Master.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Their exchange was the same now as it had been in his first match.

Emperor Rupert wasn’t in attendance. With his schedule packed down to the second, he rarely had the free time for such amusements. Tradition dictated his presence for all matches from the top eight onwards, which was exactly why he was so busy—he was desperately trying to free up that time in his schedule.

Fiona understood this, so she didn’t blame her father for his absence. But Rupert himself was hit by pangs of conscience. Shouldn’t he have watched the match for her sake, if not Oscar’s?

Emperor Rupert VI would calmly issue even the cruelest orders for the sake of his country and his people. Perhaps, then, that was the very reason he indulged Fiona so much.

For his second round of preliminaries, Oscar lined up on the outer edge of the circular arena, just like last time. But unlike last time, Emil wasn’t on his left. The groupings changed every time, which was demonstrated by the familiar face across from him—Elmer, the swordsman from Shooting Spree. Noticing Oscar, Elmer gave him a wry smile.

Only two of the ten needed to remain standing. If they could eliminate the other eight, Oscar and Elmer would both advance to the next round.

“Now we’ll commence the match of the twentieth group in the second qualifying round. Begin!”

Last time, his competitors had made it clear they’d intended to eliminate Oscar, forcing him to take the initiative. This time, however, something strange happened: A fierce sword fight broke out between the other nine, leaving Oscar out in the cold.

“Hm?”

He’d never intended to make the first move, given what happened last time. He’d wanted to wait and see, and this was the result.

After seeing his previous fight, the others must have thought it would be reckless to take him on. Only two people would make it through this preliminary round. With how things were progressing, it would be Oscar and someone else. Thus, the nine-person battle royale, which left him twiddling his thumbs. He wasn’t particularly interested in demonstrating his prowess. If this was how their bout was going to be decided, who was he to interfere?

By now, the other winner was one step away from emerging. Only two of the nine remained: Elmer and another swordsman. But the difference in their ability was clear to anyone watching. Then, as if on cue, Elmer swatted his sword against his opponent’s, sending it flying high into the air. Simultaneously, he pressed the tip of his blade at the other man’s throat.

“I surrender...” the swordsman said in a low voice.

“Victors, Elmer and Oscar,” the referee declared.

They had secured their spots in the next round. Cheers erupted from the crowd. Though Oscar hadn’t lifted a finger, the other nine had put on an impressive and thrilling show for the audience.

“Now I’m the one in Emil’s shoes...” Oscar muttered with a small shake of his head.

Despite them being in completely different positions, they had both been able to advance without fighting. He understood now a little of the embarrassment—among other things—that Emil must have felt.

Oscar headed back to the imperial section of the stands, where Fiona greeted him.

“Master, welcome back!”

She was overjoyed because he’d made it through the second round of the qualifiers without any injuries or exposing himself to danger. Whether it was boxing, mixed martial arts, or another form of combat, perhaps those who sent their loved ones into the frenzy of combat would always worry. Even so, if the colosseum only ever held fights like this, the stands would be empty.

In his third qualifier three days later, Oscar was once more sidelined by the other fighters. He didn’t know any of them this time, and no one approached him either. He could feel a sense of frustration building up, but Fiona’s smile when he returned melted it away. Perhaps this was the first time since leaving the village of Fost that Oscar experienced the warmth of knowing someone was outside waiting for him.

Two days after the third preliminary secured his place in the knockout stage of the tournament, Oscar stood in the arena alongside the other sixty-three finalists.

A massive crowd filled the colosseum, eager to see the matchups decided.

The organizers had drawn lots to assign the participants to their groups during the battle royale qualifiers...or so they said. The reality was less clear due to what happened with Oscar’s first round. But today’s lottery would be truly random, and that had the audience at a fever pitch, despite no battles taking place. Fiona was no exception either. Knowing how stubborn she was, he’d just smiled wryly at her before descending into the arena earlier.

Now he greeted a few familiar faces among the finalists.

“Elmer, Zasha! Glad to see you two made it through!”

Both were part of the B-rank party named Shooting Spree.

“We most certainly did! The third round was a close call, but I managed.”

“Well, I had it easy!”

Both the swordsman Elmer and the dual-wielder Zasha were happy to have advanced this far. And why wouldn’t they be? Making it into the final sixty-four of the Imperial Martial Arts Tournament, especially this commemorative one, was proof of being a first-rate adventurer. Both men were twenty-six years old, in their prime as adventurers, swordsmen, and dual-wielders alike. Not only did they possess speed, power, and agility, but they also had experience that teenagers lacked. If they couldn’t win now, when would they ever get their chance?

Among the finalists, Oscar noticed another familiar face.

“Oscar, finally starting to show interest in women, huh? I’m thrilled,” Zasha teased.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t worry, I’d be staring at her too, seeing how she stands out.”

It was the elf who’d fought on the stage next to theirs during the first qualifier: Sera.

“Rumor has it she’s a B-rank adventurer from the Kingdom.”

“Oh, hey, same as us. Definitely can’t lose now!”

Both Elmer and Zasha brimmed with motivation.

“Her skill with a blade is terrifying,” Oscar said, immediately dampening their enthusiasm. “I watched her.”

“Aww, come on, I didn’t wanna know that.”

“Damn. How talented must she be, then?”

“Well, you never know what’s going to happen in battle,” Oscar said with a shrug.

“Y-You’re right!”

“Good point.”

His remark seemed to rally their spirits, though they weren’t quite as spirited as before.

“Okay, so... There are balls in a box with the numbers 1 to 64 written on them, and the competitors draw them one at a time in the order of their entry numbers,” Zasha explained.

“Then the names are entered into that board,” Elmer said, gesturing at the huge tournament board with numbers on it in the center of the arena.

Imperial citizens knew how the lottery system worked because it was the same every time, but Oscar was clueless simply because he didn’t care.

“What’s your entry number, Oscar?” Zasha asked him.

“7505.”

“That’s pretty far down on the list. You may end up being one of the last,” Elmer added.

As far as Oscar could tell, Emil, who had registered before him and advanced with him in the first qualifying round, didn’t seem to be among the finalists. He asked the others about it.

“Ah, him. He lost in the third round. At the very end too...” Elmer said. “I remember him just because he’s so skilled despite being so young. I think he’ll place fairly high in the tournament five years from now.”

“The top four from last time are here. They’re automatic seeds,” Zasha said.

“Felix List won the last tournament and now he’s part of the Twelve Knights of the Emperor, so he won’t be participating. The runner-up retired, so that leaves...Anselm, who came in third, and Dieter, who came in fourth,” Elmer corrected.

Oscar wasn’t sure what to do with any of this information. He didn’t know any of those people, but the other two stared at him expectantly—as if waiting for him to continue the conversation.

“Are those two tough opponents, then?” he asked tentatively. Contrary to appearances, Oscar could read the room.

“I’d say. This is a commemorative tournament, after all, so you can expect incredible folks from all over the Central Provinces. Since you made it to the final sixty-four, why not watch the other matches too?” Elmer suggested, picking up on Oscar’s lack of interest in the other participants.

“All finalists, please line up here.”

The sixty-four individuals lined up single file at the emcee’s request. Just as Elmer and Zasha had predicted, Oscar was at the very end. Dead last, in fact. To his right stood a man wearing a concealing robe and a white mask. Oscar’s own robe was buttoned up, hiding the sword tucked at his waist, but the masked man’s front was open, revealing the hilt and scabbard of his sword... He wore it in such a way that he could draw it at any moment...

The masked man tilted his sword toward Oscar, who’d been staring at the hilt of his weapon. “You got business with me?” he asked.

The moment he heard that voice, a chill ran down Oscar’s spine. It was similar to one that still haunted his worst memories... He sounded a little muffled because of the mask, but the resemblance made him uneasy. Surely it wasn’t possible...

Oscar composed himself. “My apologies,” he murmured. If he spoke even a little louder, he worried he’d lose control. “I was just mesmerized by your sword. It’s a magnificent piece.”

“Heh. Good eye.”

The masked man drew his sword halfway, and what Oscar saw made his heart jump violently into his throat. He pressed his right hand to his chest, trying to calm his heartbeat... Of course, he didn’t succeed... But he had to try.

“It really is a magnificent sword... Thank you for showing it to me.”

He forced those words out, but quickly discovered he couldn’t say anything else. In fact, he could neither open his lips nor move his body.

Because what he’d seen was the blade of the sword that his master had forged and his father had wielded.

The blade that had killed his parents and the elder...

“Anselm, number sixty-three.”

“Dieter, number two.”

Two men who had made it into the top four in the previous tournament drew their lottery balls first. They found themselves at almost opposite ends in terms of matchups.

Around them, the contestants could hear the crowd’s comments.

“Ohhh! I wonder if those two will be facing off in the finals?”

“But before then, someone else will have to face them first. I kinda feel bad for their opponents.”

As the drawing continued, the spectators’ excitement rose for their favorites from the preliminaries.

“Elmer, number thirty-three.”

“Zasha, number thirty.”

“Sera, number forty-eight,” the emcee’s voice rang out.

Suddenly, the audience roared. As the only elf and a stunning beauty, Sera was already popular with them. There were two other women among the finalists. Since melee fighters inevitably had the upper hand in the martial arts tournament, male participants were more likely to remain. Women tended to have a higher affinity with magic than men, so many chose magical professions. All of this explained why Sera and the other female contestants were so popular with the crowd.

And so the lottery went, until the sixty-second contestant’s turn.

“Hey, look!” one of the spectators shouted.

“Only the toughest ones are left,” said another.

That sentiment was widespread among the crowd. Only two people had yet to draw: the masked man and Oscar. And only two spots remained open on the tournament bracket: numbers one and sixty-four. The first would find himself up against number two and the other against number sixty-three, the first two competitors to draw.

“Anselm and Dieter are seeded... Those two are gonna have a hard time.”

“I think that one calls himself ‘Boss’ and the other one is Oscar.”

“Oscar, we adore you!” the women in the audience screamed.

Most people would’ve described Oscar as handsome. His good looks, coupled with his show of overwhelming strength in the preliminaries, had garnered him a dedicated female fan base. Unfortunately, overwhelming strength in the qualifiers didn’t really count for much in the finals. All remaining sixty-four contestants were overwhelmingly strong.

“Boss, number one.”

“Huzzah!”

A huge cheer echoed throughout the colosseum. The opening match had finally been decided. Dieter, one of the top four from last time, would be fighting the masked, eerie, but imposing man named Boss. No doubt the fight would mesmerize the audience.

And then there was the last remaining slot...

“Oscar, number sixty-four.”

His first matchup in the knockout stage would be against Anselm, who’d placed third last time.

◆

The first round of the knockout stage would take place over four days. Like the battle royale prelims, the arena would host two matches at once, four times a day. Oscar decided to watch the fights, starting on the first day after the drawing. But he didn’t have a ticket, so he’d have to buy one from a scalper...

“Master, I’d like to watch too,” Fiona said.

“Your Highness?”

“As this is a rare commemorative tournament, any battle between those worthy of advancing to the finals might prove beneficial even to amateurs like me. Plus, with me, you can watch from the imperial seats.”

“Urk...”

Oscar had no counter for Fiona’s argument. In the end, they received permission from her father to watch the matches for the rest of the tournament.

The opening match of the final tournament pitted Boss, the masked man, against Dieter, who had placed fourth in the previous tournament. Though Emperor Rupert wasn’t attending, a portion of the crowd was excited to hear that the eleventh princess, Her Highness Fiona, was.

“She’s here again today!”

“I’m sure she was here when the matchups were being set! She must be very keen to watch the fighters.”

“Rumor has it that, unlike the other princesses, she’s quite skilled with the sword.”

“Incredible!”

Oscar stood a little below Fiona, and the lighting made him nearly invisible to the rest of the crowd. Some had found out that one of her bodyguards was participating, but no one was sure if they’d advanced to the knockout stage.

Boss and Dieter were already on their respective stages, waiting for the signal to start the match.

“We will now commence the first match of the round of sixty-four. Begin!”

They were both slow to start. They drew their swords but remained stationary at the starting distance of twenty meters.

“Hmph,” muttered Boss.

Then, almost casually, he began walking toward Dieter, who frowned a bit in response but remained motionless, his sword still at the ready. Boss approached little by little...

Without warning, Dieter lunged, closing the gap between them, and thrust once, twice, and a third time. When he went to thrust a fourth time, his head suddenly snapped back. At almost the same moment, his right arm, at full extension, was suddenly lopped off. He collapsed to the floor, and that was the end of that.

No one made a sound. Not the audience. Not the emcee. Not even the referee.

“Oy, you gonna call it or what?” Boss barked at the referee.

“Ah, s-so sorry. Winner, Boss!”

“Whoooa!”

The spectators came to their senses then. Angry shouts erupted from the crowd. Most of them didn’t understand what had happened. What on earth had happened to Dieter? He’d been on the attack when, the next thing they knew, his body arced and his severed right arm went sailing into the air.

Still, they knew they had witnessed something incredible, and that was all they needed to know!

Some people’s reactions were a little different.

“Did you see that, Zasha?” Elmer asked.

“I sure did... That masked bastard is insane. I thought Dieter came in fourth last time?”

Elmer and Zasha watched the match from the stands. As they’d told Oscar, they’d purchased tickets for the first round of the finals, intending to watch every bout.

And around them...

“Zasha, if you make it to the semifinals, you may have to fight that thing,” Jusch said.

“Zasha, if you make it to the semifinals, you’ll become that thing’s victim,” her sister Rusch added.

The remaining members of Shooting Spree, Anne the scout and Mesalt the healer, simply shook their heads.

“B-But that’s only if I make it to the semifinals, right? I doubt I’ll even get that far, so I’ve got nothing to worry about!” Zasha protested.

“Have a little self-respect, man...” Elmer gave him a pitying look.

I knew it... That’s the sword Master forged...

Obviously, Oscar’s emotions were rioting. The masked man was probably Boskona, his mortal enemy who’d killed his parents and the elder. Right in front of Oscar’s eyes, he wielded the sword he’d taken from his father. It was impossible for him to even entertain the thought of remaining calm.

“Master?”

Fiona, keenly aware of the change in Oscar, glanced at him anxiously. He wasn’t behaving like his usual self, and not in a good way... That gaze instantly spurred him into regaining his composure.

“Your Highness, I’m sorry.”

He bowed his head. His words were both an apology and an expression of gratitude to Fiona for bringing him back to his senses.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was just remembering the past...”

Fiona didn’t press further, guessing correctly that he was thinking about his parents or perhaps his foster father. But even she couldn’t fathom that the vile man who’d killed them was standing right before their eyes.

“I’ll make my way to him...” Oscar murmured. “Most likely in the finals, huh?”

◆

On the second day of the finals, dual-wielder Zasha of Shooting Spree made his debut. Though he struggled, he emerged victorious in his first matchup. On the third day, his fellow swordsman Elmer fought and won with some effort. In the fourth match of that day, the elf Sera made her debut. She won in just ten seconds. Oscar visited the venue on both days but couldn’t find the masked man.

Then came the fourth day of the knockout stage.

“Master, good luck,” Fiona said.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

He left the section of the stands reserved for the imperial family and headed for the waiting room. The final round was about to begin.

“Please welcome Anselm, the third seed from the last tournament!”

As the emcee called out his name, Anselm waved and stepped onto the stage. The crowd immediately went wild.

“Eeeeeek!”

“You got this, Anselm!”

“We’re counting on you! You’re the only one for us!”

Placing third in the previous tournament had given him immense popularity.

“He’ll be facing off against our youngest qualifier, Oscar!”

“Eeeeeeeeeeee!”

“We loooove you, Oscar!”

“Oscar, marry me!”

“Oscaaar, you stud!”

The cheers rained down even louder for Oscar, most of them female. Young, handsome, and strong, it was no wonder he was popular with the ladies. The thirty-first match on the adjacent stage had finished early, so every eye in the colosseum was fixed on the final fight between Oscar and Anselm.

“Round sixty-four, match thirty-two will commence now. Begin!”

At the referee’s command, Oscar charged with all his might. He slashed with one hand, thrust, thrust, slashed again, and ended his combo with a two-handed swing.

Anselm, however, dodged the first four attacks and blocked the final downward swing with his sword. He moved just as gracefully and wielded his sword with as much overwhelming power as the previous champion, Felix Liszt, according to the rumors.

Despite his training, Oscar had known from the second they faced off that Anselm surpassed him. Even so, he’d wanted to know how great the gulf was between them—which was why he’d charged first.

With his flurry of attacks blocked, Oscar jumped back. “I think I understand your style.”

“Do you now?” Anselm replied, radiating confidence.

“It will take me some time to reach your heights,” Oscar admitted, wholly convinced of his victory in spite of his words.

Anselm’s expression stiffened slightly, as if he was offended.

“Since I absolutely must reach the finals, I’m going to use my trump card,” Oscar warned him.

“This should be interesting.” Anselm prepared himself.

“Firestorm.” Oscar conjured three tongues of fire around his sword and flung them at Anselm.

“Magic, is it?!”

Even though magic wasn’t prohibited in the tournament, few people used it. Firstly, the spells of the Central Provinces required chanting incantations; secondly, an opponent could interrupt a caster with melee combat before they finished their spell. For these reasons, magic was simply impractical.

However, Oscar didn’t need to chant to cast his spells. Moreover, his casting speed was abnormally fast.

Even though Oscar’s offensive magic was blisteringly fast, Anselm still reacted.

“Don’t underestimate me!” he shouted, slashing the fiery blasts rushing toward him, a feat only a top-tier swordsman could achieve. Unfortunately, the moment his swords touched the flames, they exploded spectacularly.

“Ngh!”

Somehow, Anselm escaped the radius of the explosions. Impressive, given he’d placed third last time.

Except those fireballs were decoys. The moment Anselm realized this, he saw a white light pierce both his legs.

“Gaaah!”

He knew right away it was fire magic. But that was all he knew. Because how could white flames look so much like radiant light? Unable to hold his weight any longer, his damaged legs buckled and he dropped to his knees.

“Damn it!”

The moment Anselm fell, Oscar, within point-blank range now, pressed the tip of his sword to the man’s throat.

“I surrender...” Anselm admitted defeat.

“Winner, Oscar!”

◆

The quarterfinals began on the eighth day of the knockout stage. Emperor Rupert VI would officially be attending from this day onward. Ticket prices also skyrocketed, since many nobles residing in the imperial capital would be attending.

In the day’s first match, Boss easily advanced, becoming the first to reach the top four. In the second match, Zasha of Shooting Spree made a surprising comeback victory. His success—plus the spreading news that another member of his party would be competing in the third match that afternoon—meant Shooting Spree was now a household name around the city. Although only B-rank adventurers before, Shooting Spree had suddenly become one of the Empire’s top parties.

Elmer, the leader of their party, didn’t share in their luck. “This is going to be impossible,” he groaned, disheartened before his match even began.

“Think positive! Maybe you’ll get lucky like me and stumble your way into a victory?”

“No such thing as coincidence with that elf...”

As the third match approached, Elmer’s heart sank because of his opponent, the Kingdom’s B-rank adventurer, Sera of the Wind.

“She’s the same rank as us, so maybe you’ll pull through,” Jusch said.

“She’s not an A-rank, so maybe you have a chance,” Rusch added.

“Arrrgh...” Elmer let out a deep sigh. Having come this far, he knew he had no choice but to see this through to the end, whatever the result.

“I guess I’ll just have to do my best!”

Then he stepped onto the stage.

The moment the match commenced, Sera lunged at a speed invisible to the naked eye.

“Crap!”

Elmer reacted instinctively but barely managed to block the blow. He concentrated on parrying with the sword in his right hand and the gauntlet on his left.

“This is nothing like yesterday! When did you get this fast?!”

He had watched all of her battles until now. Her sword skills, far superior to his, had made him realize he had little chance of winning, but now she was faster than she’d been the day before.

“I call it Wind Robe,” she answered impassively.

Then, after a powerful swing, she jumped back.

“Impressive, Elmer. I can’t even remember the last time someone deflected my sword while I was using my Wind Robe.”

“Thank you?”

Despite her praise, his heart was filled with despair. He had taken to the stage knowing victory would be difficult, but he’d held on to a sliver of hope. Now, even that was being crushed.

“Let’s see how you handle a little more force.”

“What—”

Before Elmer finished speaking, Sera charged at him with supersonic speed and delivered a sudden downward slash. He blocked it with his sword, both hands gripping the hilt.

“Ngh...”

He staggered back, somehow managing to avoid losing his entire limb. Not only was she fast, but her strikes were incredibly heavy. Even though he’d partially blocked the blow, Sera’s sword still bit deep into his shoulder, and she didn’t stop there.

Sera rammed her knee right into his groin. Even though it was the most vital part of any man, such attacks weren’t prohibited in martial arts tournaments. After all, targeting your opponents’ weaknesses was a natural tactic to use on the battlefield.

As Elmer writhed in agony, Sera mercilessly pressed her sword into his neck. Elmer couldn’t make a sound. The referee looked at him with pity, then made his declaration.

“Winner, Sera!”

The audience both roared in excitement and sent him sympathetic glances.

For the sake of Elmer’s honor, it should be noted that he was never mocked for what transpired on that stage. Making it into the top eight of a prestigious fighting tournament, especially such a commemorative one, was enough to secure glory. Sure, he ultimately took a nasty hit to his most sensitive organ, but that wasn’t his fault. His opponent was strong. In fact, many of the men in the crowd sympathized with him, and not a single one made fun of him.

It only took Oscar a few minutes to defeat Anselm using his Firestorm and Piercing Fire spells. Now, he would face Sera in the semifinals...

◆

But before Sera and Oscar’s fight, another important match was about to take place.

“Guys, I’m thinking of forfeiting...” Zasha whimpered, dreading his looming fight against the masked man named Boss.

“Absolutely not, Zasha,” Jusch said.

“The hell you are, Zasha,” Rusch added.

“Well, you jerks aren’t the ones who’ll have to face his monstrous sword...”

Zasha was right. Up until now, Boss had defeated every opponent in under a minute—including Dieter, who’d placed fourth in the previous tournament. The fact that Zasha had even made it into the top four was proof enough of his skill as a fighter. Still, when he compared himself to the masked man, he didn’t think he stood any chance of winning.

“I think it’s fine if you want to forfeit,” said Elmer.

The others stared at him in wide-eyed surprise.

“If you’re really not feeling confident, go ahead and drop out,” he continued. “But if you think you have even the slightest chance, I want you to fight for me too.”

“Elmer...”

Zasha didn’t know what to say. His friend had challenged an elf whose swordsmanship rivaled the masked man’s, and in the end, he’d lost miserably. Adding insult to literal injury, he’d lost in a way that would make any man wince. Elmer could no longer stand on this stage, but he, Zasha, could! For the sake of his comrade, he’d challenge that monster. And if he defeated him, he had no doubt he’d confront the elf who had given his friend a metaphorical burial. Maybe he could even avenge him!

“All right. I’ll do it,” he said, not even having to force the words out. Instead, his voice rang with unwavering determination. He and Elmer shook hands, and then Zasha took the stage.

He felt more confident than ever as he entered the arena—like he could do anything.

Then the match began, Boss batted his twin blades away and defeated Zasha in twenty seconds.

“Hans, do my eyes deceive me, or is this tournament’s level of competition a little too difficult?” Emperor Rupert VI muttered from his seat in the section for the imperial family.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I think that’s simply the masked man named Boss.”

“I see...”

It was obvious how strong Boss, Sera, and Oscar were. Of course, for Rupert, all that mattered was that Oscar had more than proved himself by finishing in the top four. Still, as a ruler, it would be embarrassing if the level of a fighting tournament hosted by the Empire were called into question...

“In the previous one, Felix and the other competitors fought at an incredibly high level simply because of their talents. So when skilled individuals gather in one place, comparisons will inevitably be made and some will be found inferior.”

“True enough.” Rupert nodded in agreement.

Of course, they spoke in hushed voices. Fiona, focused on Oscar’s upcoming match, didn’t hear a word.

“We will now commence the second semifinal match between Sera and Oscar!”

Cheers erupted from the entire venue.

“Please welcome Sera, a B-rank adventurer from neighboring Knightley!”

Loud, thunderous shouts rose from the rabid male fan base she’d evidently gained.

“Seraaaaa!”

“Sera, marry me!”

“No, marry me!”

“Shut up, she’s mine!”

Sera took the stage, seemingly unfazed by the calls. The cheers grew even louder before the emcee even began his next introduction.

“And now, please welcome the youngest qualifier in the finals, Oscar!”

“Eeeeeeeeek!”

“Oooohhhhh!”

“Oscaaaar!”

“I love you!”

“Don’t get hurt!”

The cheers were just as loud as Sera’s and, naturally, mostly came from very enthusiastic women. Oscar also took the stage, similarly unfazed.

“Competitors, take your marks and—begin!”

Immediately, he chanted, “Firestorm.”

He launched three plumes of fire from his sword at Sera, who slashed them with her own. The flames exploded on contact. Simultaneously, Oscar cast another spell in his mind.

Piercing Fire.

Two thin lances of white fire bolted toward her legs, but they went awry before reaching her.

“Did you deflect them?” Oscar muttered.

“I did. I’ve already seen that trick before. Time for a new one, hm?” Sera replied.

As air magicians, elves could control the air, or in other words, wind.

So that’s the kind of magic she uses?

Right now, in the midst of battle, a vague understanding was more important than pursuing a perfect truth.

“My turn.”

She rushed him at supersonic speed.

“Gah!”

He’d seen her use Wind Robe during her fight with Elmer, but watching from the sidelines was very different from being on the receiving end.

A high-pitched klang echoed in the arena as Oscar blocked Sera’s sword. She dodged his follow-up slash and backstepped to put distance between them.

“What a tough Physical Barrier.”

He had only deployed it for an instant, but Sera had nevertheless detected it.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed.

“Eternal Storm,” Sera chanted softly.

“Barrier.” Oscar simultaneously generated not only a Physical Barrier but also a Magical Barrier.

Klink,klink,klink.

His Barriers deflected a seemingly endless barrage of invisible air magic spells.

How long will this go on...

First a dozen, then a hundred, then several hundred, and then—

Krak.

“Nh!” Oscar gasped, his barrier shattering. He immediately went to re-create it. “Barrier.”

A magical duel was a rare sight in a martial arts tournament, stirring the audience into a frenzy. Anything was fair game so long as it got the people fired up—that’s just how it was.

Klink,klink,klink...

She must have sent over a thousand spells at him by this point.

Seriously, how long can she keep this up?

Even Oscar had never been on the receiving end of so many consecutive magical attacks. It wasn’t all that surprising, considering that no average magician had enough mana to fire off such a spectacular barrage of offensive magic...

Maybe a few hundred spells later, Oscar heard a similar sound.

Krak.

“Broken again?” he hissed. “Barrier.”

“Too slow.”

Before Oscar knew it, Sera’s sword was plunging into his abdomen.

“Ngh... Piercing Fire, Scatter.”

The same white light as before emanated in front of him.

Recognizing the dangerous glow of the spell Oscar had used earlier, she yanked her sword from his body and retreated at the speed of sound. His spell doggedly pursued her around the stage, but she dodged it with impressive agility and ended up unscathed.

Oscar rationally understood the sequence of events that had just unfolded, including the massive wound he’d just sustained. Instinctively, he used his fire magic to cauterize the hole in his abdomen and stop the bleeding.

Szz.

He groaned at the excruciating pain, but he’d experienced it several times before, so it wasn’t unbearable.

However, without the spell Heal, his internal organs and muscles remained damaged—and he could kiss all the blood he’d lost goodbye. His body was no longer able to handle an endurance battle. She was faster, more powerful, more skilled, and more experienced. How could he win in this situation?

Even a man like Oscar couldn’t come up with an answer. One thing was certain, though: He would reach the finals. After all, the man who killed his parents and the elder had already qualified.

“I’ll see you there, you bastard,” he said out loud.

Sera was secretly astounded. This young man was controlling fire magic without chanting and using spells she’d never even seen before. No normal magician could cast Firestorm, but Oscar had used it three times in a row. Then there was the white fire. She’d wondered about it when he used it during his match against Anselm. The moment the white flame had hit his leg, it had simply melted his flesh. Just how hot was it? The thought alone was terrifying.

Not to mention his mental fortitude. If she were perfectly honest, she completely outclassed him when using her Wind Robe in all aspects of swordsmanship. Even so, she was shocked by his bold claim that he would go to the finals. Saying that in the face of an overwhelming opponent was no easy feat.

Sera charged in again with her incredible speed. She could draw things out by fighting a magical battle from a distance, but his white fire remained an unpredictable factor. She had avoided the first one by using air magic to change his spell’s trajectory, but she knew the kind of magic she was dealing with. Even a single hit would be enough to end this fight.

Their sword fight resumed. Like before, Oscar continued parrying Sera’s high-speed sword strikes with his Physical Barrier and his own weapon—but his defense wasn’t perfect. The number of cuts on his arms, legs, sides, waist, and cheeks steadily grew.

I’m finished at this rate...

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the overwhelming difference in strength between them felt insurmountable. The odds of him turning the tables weren’t just unlikely—they were slim to none.

Even though he knew it was true, Oscar gritted his teeth—

But I can’t accept it!

—and continued fighting.

Just one more step, just one more victory, and there he is: the man who killed my father, my mother, and the elder. If I’m so close but unable to make it, I’ll never forgive myself!

He’d never forgive himself if he couldn’t get his revenge after he’d gotten this close. He knew that better than anyone—because he hated Boskona more than everyone.

If I have to give up an arm to beat her, so be it. I can do this...

He made up his mind at the same time Sera thrust her blade into his flesh, stabbing through his left palm.

He released a muffled cry, then an incantation: “Cauterize.”

A white light, as powerful as his Piercing Fire, shone across Oscar’s left arm—and then his limb disappeared, simultaneously shattering Sera’s sword.

Yet before he could follow up, Sera plunged a dagger into his stomach.

“Hrgh...” he groaned, spitting blood.

“Fire magician, I knew you were blocking using both your weapon and your Physical Barrier to block my attacks so you could heat my blade and destroy it. I must admit, I didn’t predict you would go this far with your white flames.”

Her words left him speechless.

“My knife’s in your abdomen,” she continued. “All I have to do is push a little harder, and even you won’t be able to remain standing. So, tell me, why go to such lengths to advance to the finals?”

Refusing to answer, Oscar glared at her as she ground her dagger deeper into him.

“Your unwillingness to answer makes me think your resolve isn’t worth much. Would you rather lose in disgrace? If so, I’m a tad disappointed in you.”

“That scum... Boskona...” Oscar choked out.

Sera leaned in to hear him.

“He killed my father and mother, and the elder...” Oscar continued. “Right in front of my eyes. And now, I’m going to kill him.”

“Vengeance, then. And for three.” Sera shook her head. After a moment of thought, she ripped the dagger out of Oscar’s belly.

“Ahhh!” he cried out. Despite the pain, he somehow managed to resist falling to his knees.

Then Sera lifted her head. “I forfeit!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the arena.

No one reacted, so Sera turned to the referee. “I forfeit.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I— Wait, what? Did you say you forfeit?”

“That’s right. With no weapon, I can fight no further,” she said before turning on her heel to collect her sword from the ground and depart the stage.

“Winner, Oscar!”

Despite the abrupt end, the cheers from the audience might as well have reached the heavens.

A healer repeatedly cast Extra Heal on Oscar and forced him to drink a blood-producing agent developed by the Imperial Association of Alchemy. After, he finally allowed him to leave the infirmary.

Oscar rushed back to the spectator stands. When he arrived at the imperial family’s box, he found himself captured in a fierce embrace.

“Um, Your Highness?” Oscar asked, flustered.

“Master, I told you not to get hurt...” Fiona muttered as she buried her tearful face into his chest.

“You did, and I— I’m sorry,” he said. He could do nothing but apologize. He understood how worried his apprentice must have been and realized he might be injured just as badly in the next fight, or even worse...

Rupert watched them, a complicated mix of emotions across his face. As a father, it was hard to watch his daughter bury her face in another man’s chest. But it also made him happy to see her grow into someone so open with herself and others. He couldn’t find the words to describe how he felt, so he said nothing.

The Fire Magician V: Showdown

The night before the finals, Oscar visited Fiona.

“Master, you’re not normally out and about at this hour,” she said.

“Forgive me, but there’s something I must tell you, my lady.”

He told her about his opponent in the finals, about how he’d murdered his parents as well as the elder who’d raised him and whom he’d adored as his mentor.

Fiona was too stunned to reply. Her father had told her about Oscar’s past before. Not only was she his employer, but she was also his apprentice, so Rupert had believed that it would be best for her to know, given their complex relationship. Never in her wildest imagination would she have thought that the masked man Oscar would face tomorrow was the same one who had committed those crimes.

Once the shock subsided, a question popped into her head: Why tell her now?

“Master, why?” Fiona said, unable to finish her sentence in the face of his unyielding determination.

“Your Highness, it goes without saying that I have no intention of dying tomorrow.”

Fiona’s greatest fear was exactly that, so she let out a small sigh of relief at those words.

“I wanted to tell you that tomorrow, I’ll fight with the intention of killing that man.”

“What?”

Of course, killing was prohibited in the tournament and punishable by immediate disqualification, regardless of the reason. However, due to the nature of said tournament, it wouldn’t be legally prosecuted. Regardless, Oscar might be separated from Fiona afterward, which was why he’d come.

Fiona didn’t want to lose him. There was still so much she wanted him to teach her. Under his guidance, she’d learned to wield Raven, her heirloom sword, like an extension of herself. She also loved watching him control his magic, since it gave her a peek into the far heights she might one day reach. More than anything, Fiona wanted Oscar by her side, always...

“Very well,” she said finally. “Do as you wish, Master.”

Having come to terms with her own feelings, she decided to send him off.

“Your Highness...I thank you.”

Oscar knelt on one knee and offered every last ounce of his fealty to Fiona.

After he left, her soft sobs faded into the darkness of the night, unheard.

◆

On the final match of the final day of the monthlong tournament, a fight was usually held to decide third and fourth place.

“I can’t fight because I have no weapon,” Sera announced, “so I hereby forfeit.”

Without needing to lift a finger, Zasha took third place. The word “stupefied” best described his expression in that moment.

Minutes before, he’d ascended to the stage with grim determination. He’d known there probably wasn’t a one in a million chance of winning, but he’d promised the rest of his party that he would do his best. Now, the wind had been completely taken out of his sails. Still, the prize money for third place was enormous. While it might not be enough to live a lifetime of leisure, it was enough that he wouldn’t have to work for over a decade.

That afternoon, the stage was set for the final, and the two competitors took their places.

Emperor Rupert VI himself stood in the imperial family’s section of the stadium to announce the final fight, as was tradition.

“Let the final bout of the fiftieth tournament commence. Begin!”

“The Fall of Heaven and Earth,” Oscar chanted as Rupert finished.

That spell, which he’d only recently perfected, was a large-scale fire attack that sent twenty giant, burning meteors crashing down on his target. It was designed to destroy things like a city’s walls, but Oscar had just used it to target a single individual.

Physical and Magical Barriers were deployed between the colosseum’s spectator seats and the arena. To date, neither had ever been broken during a match. If The Fall of Heaven and Earth had hit directly, the invincible Magical Barrier might have been shattered. Thankfully for everyone else in the venue, Oscar’s target was only the masked man.

Boss slashed at the flaming projectiles without issue. While Oscar would have loved to see his attack kill the man, the goal of that spell wasn’t obliteration.

“Damn...” the masked man snarled.

To the surprise of many, not only was Boss alive, but his mask had cracked during the meteor shower, revealing his true face. Oscar wanted to be certain of his identity, even if it meant launching such a powerful attack, and seeing the large scar stretching from below his ear to his chin confirmed his suspicions...

“Hello, Boskona. It’s been a while.”

“Who the hell are you? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.”

At that moment, he realized he’d made a mistake. By reacting to that name, he’d acknowledged his identity.

“I take it you’re wearing the mask to hide your distinctive scar. Makes sense. If I were a notorious bandit, I’d do whatever it takes to avoid detection too.”

Boskona said nothing. The colosseum had fallen silent too, allowing people even halfway up the stands to hear their conversation.

“Wait, did he just call him a bandit?”

“Boskona? Didn’t he used to be some kind of bandit leader who ravaged the border between the Empire and the Federation a few years back?”

“You sure know a lot about him.”

“Well, I used to be part of the border patrol.”

These types of conversations swept across the crowd, but regardless of the topic, the match must go on.

“Oscar, was it? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m gonna beat you to a bloody pulp.”

“Funny, I planned on doing the same.”

Without further ado, Boskona charged forward, but Oscar leaped away from him.

“Piercing Fire, Scatter.”

A wall of white light appeared in front of his charging enemy, each jet of plasma over a hundred million degrees and capable of vaporizing almost anything it came into contact with. Boskona didn’t know the specifics, of course, but he could intuit how dangerous the spell was. Perhaps his wild instincts and ability to sense danger made him such a skilled swordsman. With a precision unimaginable from his appearance, he dodged the white-hot flames and backed away, putting even more distance between them. There, he regrouped.

They repeated this pattern three times, then on the fourth... Oscar sprang backward to unleash another wave of Piercing Fire. This time, however, he landed on a patch of earth that had been stripped bare by one of his earlier meteors. While Oscar didn’t trip, the difference in terrain distracted him for just an instance, long enough to—

Slash.

“Ngh!”

Before Oscar knew it, Boskona had plunged a knife into his left shoulder. Sensing his opponent’s hesitation while landing on the different terrain, he’d aimed the knife diagonally from his left hand toward Oscar’s left shoulder. He had moved so fast that even Oscar hadn’t caught it... Boskona was first-rate not just in handling swords, but also daggers.

A second of distraction could change a situation so drastically, which was exactly what had happened here. Boskona grinned, knowing the odds were now heavily in his favor.

“One little stab, and now you have no chance of winning, Oscar.”

“One little stab’s all it takes to get you boasting about your victory already? You must have lived a boring life, Boskona.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth!”

He flicked his left hand, throwing three throwing knives at Oscar at terrifying speeds. Even if he had detected them, they were so fast that he wouldn’t have been able to create a Barrier in time. In other words, they were quicker than magic. Oscar dodged one and deflected two with his weapon.

Meanwhile, Boskona closed the gap between them, finally initiating a clash of swords. His skills were overwhelmingly superior. On top of that, Oscar’s wounded shoulder meant he couldn’t use his entire left arm properly. He created a Physical Barrier over his left side and turned, using it to block, but it wasn’t easy.

In addition to the knives, Boskona had other weapons stashed all over his body, even in the soles of his shoes. Oscar caught a glimpse of a blade slick with liquid protruding from one of his feet.

“Poison?” Oscar murmured.

Boskona’s smile grew even more sinister. Poisoning a normal blade was incredibly foolish, since the wielder would be handling the weapon with their bare hands. The same went for throwing knives. The sole of a shoe, however, would work just fine. If the hidden blade pierced an opponent’s skin, it wouldn’t be an instant kill—but poison could tremendously increase one’s chances of winning the duel.

Of course, using poison wasn’t prohibited in this tournament. Lethal ones might not be a sound choice since killing an opponent resulted in automatic disqualification. But a paralyzing poison was a different story.

Oscar continued fighting with his senses more on edge than ever before.

The spectators in the colosseum were silent, so absorbed by the fight that they lost track of how long it’d been. A few minutes? Ten? Fifteen?

The whole time, the only sounds were of the two swords clashing.

Perhaps because he was on higher alert than usual, Oscar heard something strange. It was so minor that he wondered if he was imagining it, but then their swords clashed again and he knew something had changed.

What is this...

Oscar studied Boskona’s expression, but it remained the same—sinister. He hadn’t noticed the change...

Are my ears playing tricks?

The difference was so faint that if someone next to him told him he was imagining things, he would have agreed. He spent the next several minutes mulling it over before he recalled a memory from yesterday of his battle with the elf Sera, when he’d broken her sword in his last desperate attempt.

Is that what’s happening?

The problem was that Oscar couldn’t tell which sword was making the sound. Unless you broke a lot of swords, you probably wouldn’t be able to notice which blade was on the verge of shattering. It was one thing for a sword forged by any random person to break, but both his sword and Boskona’s were famous masterpieces forged by Oscar’s blacksmithing master, Rasan.

Oscar had left his village at the age of six and spent the past twelve years wandering, traveling from place to place, mingling with many nobles, and encountering many swords along the way. Not once had he seen even a single weapon that surpassed Fiona’s heirloom sword, Raven, and the one Rupert currently wore at his waist.

That was how powerful Rasan’s swords were.

When it finally broke, it happened without warning.

It took Boskona, whose weapon shattered in his hand, completely off guard. “The hell?!”

The instant after, Oscar cut his sword into his side.

“Ngh!”

Oscar ignored his muffled cry and drove his weapon harder, extending its slash until Boskona’s right hand flew off, severed at the wrist.

“Gaaaaaah!”

The referee knew Boskona hurled throwing knives with his left hand, however, so he couldn’t stop the fight yet.

Oscar understood this, so he opened his mouth to speak, sword raised.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“No, wait!”

By this point, even Boskona was starting to panic. His right hand had been sliced off, his beloved sword broken... Sure, he could still throw knives with his left arm and use the poisoned blade in his shoe, but he knew winning would be difficult. Still, even if he lost now, he’d come in second. Second place in the commemorative tournament included a hefty amount of prize money, a position as a sword instructor for a great noble, and perhaps even the possibility of being made a baronet.

Death, however, would spell the end—and Oscar had just told him he intended to execute him despite the fact that he could easily claim his victory and the enormous wealth and prestige it would secure him.

“If you kill me, you’ll be disqualified. Do you really understand what you’re doing?”

“I do. This is revenge for my father, mother, and the elder.”

“What the hell are you babbling about?”

Boskona hadn’t lost his memories or anything; he’d simply killed so many people that he couldn’t possibly know who Oscar meant.

“Do you remember where you acquired the sword you were using?”

“Huh? A village... There was a man and a woman... Husband and wife, probably... You know them?”

Boskona remembered them, but not the man standing in front of him.

“Four years after that, you and Poche murdered the retired Baron Luke Rothko in the village of Shuk. Right in front of me, the child he raised.”

“Now I remember... You’re that ginger brat...”

As Boskona gazed upon Oscar’s hair, now completely white, fear darkened his eyes. The man before him might actually throw away every last shred of his honor to kill him and exact vengeance...

“Look, man. A noble hired me to—”

“Shut up,” Oscar said, cold and uncaring, his voice bereft of any trace of emotion.

And then he swung his sword down.

Swish.

His strike was beautiful. He’d put his entire body behind it, but when the blade sliced into Boskona’s left shoulder and struck his collarbone—

Klang.

—it broke. Not only had his enemy’s sword broken, but now Oscar’s had too. Had it reached its limit, or had something else happened?

Meanwhile, Boskona fainted from the shock.

A powerful voice resonated throughout the colosseum: “I declare this match over!”

It hadn’t come from the referee but from someone higher up in the stands...

“Victor, Oscar.”

It was Emperor Rupert VI, proclaiming him the winner.

After a moment of silence, cheers erupted from the stands.

“I couldn’t kill him... My sword... You were telling me not to spare him, weren’t you, Master?” Oscar murmured to himself.

◆

“Oscar, well done.”

“Thank you very much, Your Majesty.”

That day, Emperor Rupert VI made Oscar Luska a baron. The Luska house had been an earldom when the Empire was still a kingdom, but it had been demoted to a barony after a series of scandals involving several previous heads of the family. The direct line had become extinct several decades ago. Rupert restored the title now to Oscar, since his bloodline was a legitimate, noble one. This made Oscar, the son of a peasant, an undisputed member of the imperial aristocracy.

At the same time, it became clear to those around him that he was the emperor’s favorite. Despite his recent rise in station, his impeccable manners quickly became a hot topic in the imperial castle. Even those who mocked Oscar as an upstart couldn’t help but acknowledge the flawless way he carried himself and the power he unconsciously radiated.

“I can never thank you enough, my lord...”

Oscar was grateful from the bottom of his heart to the elder, Luke Rothko, who had raised him after the death of his parents. If the others had mocked him, it would have brought shame to Fiona—and he couldn’t forgive himself for that. In the end, he had the retired baron’s high society education to thank for its small favors.

◆

“Master, your table manners were as perfect as always.”

“Your Highness, please stop calling me that.”

Fiona and Oscar repeated their familiar exchange today in an annex of the imperial castle.

“No. I shall always call you Master, Master.”

“My lady, for the love of...”

“Lady Maria once told me that people grow when they have someone they can truly respect and adore. For me, that includes both her and you.”

“Begging your pardon, but that has nothing to do with addressing me as ‘Master’...”

“Then would you prefer I call you Lord Oscar, as Lady Maria does?”

“Absolutely not.”

What would His Majesty think of him then? Oscar shook his head, dispelling the troubling thought.

“So it seems Master is my only option, hm?”

“It would seem so.”

Nodding happily, Fiona looked at Oscar, her expression turning serious. “Master, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“What is it, Your Highness?”

“Is your thirst for vengeance satisfied?”

“Uh...” Oscar knew this was a question he couldn’t answer flippantly. “Honestly, I don’t know.” He paused to consider carefully, listen to his heart, and consider every facet of Fiona’s question in earnest. “If I’d finished off Boskona, I might have felt like I’d avenged my loved ones. But, had that happened, I doubt I would’ve been allowed to remain here.”

“I...” Fiona frowned. “I don’t like that idea.”

“Neither do I.” Oscar smiled wryly.

His answer was enlightening. Now she knew that he wanted to stay here forever.

“One thing I do know is that I’m no longer obsessed with revenge. I live now to serve you, my lady.”

He knelt down on one knee.

Fiona beamed at him. “And I accept your pledge of loyalty. Please stay by my side, always. This is where you belong, Master.”

Afterword

Hello, it’s been a while. I’m Tadashi Kubou. Thank you for picking up volume five of The Water Magician’s first arc.

Just like volume three, this one begins with Ryo leaving the Kingdom and traveling to the western part of the Handalieu Federation and the Principality of Inverey. Actually, “travel” is putting it too mildly. In reality, he launched a full-blown raid! I pretty much completely overhauled the chapter “Back to the Principality of Inverey.” The reason Ryo went berserk in the first place was... Well, I won’t go into detail for the readers who haven’t read the main text yet and are reading this afterword first. In any case, lots of revisions. It feels nothing like the original I posted on Shosetsuka ni Naro, but that happens a lot with this story. Such are the joys of being an author, and I’m happy to experience them over and over again.

Every time I create something I think is perfect, the imperfections start showing after a few months. After all, it’s made by an imperfect person, so it is what it is... Though I believe that publishing the story as a book has allowed me to remove those imperfections and make it even more interesting and fun. I’m so very grateful for that opportunity. Despite not being exactly like the original, the overall arc of the story hasn’t changed, and as long as things move along, I’m fine with it... In a way, you could say I’ve become resigned to my fate.

With this volume, the side story “The Fire Magician” is now complete. The characters will appear in the main story from volume six on. Since I never posted these on the web version, you could say the character development from here on out will be original. Plus, it would be a waste to forget about them after all this time.

All right, this fifth volume is over 270,000 characters—that’s a lot! So much so that I actually got told off! That’s why I’ve decided the word count of the next volumes won’t be quite as big. This is the first and last volume of 270,000 characters. Since the others have ranged from 220,000 to 240,000 characters, it might not seem like much of a difference. However, if you factor in that a typical light novel volume is around 160,000 characters, an extra 110,000 characters is quite a lot.

Nothing would make me happier than all you wonderful readers deciding to spend more time with this story... I’ll continue to write The Water Magician, so thanks in advance for your support.