01

“Another fine morning.”

Inside a small hut, just large enough for one person to live comfortably, silver hair reaching down to the waist swayed gently.

Combined with his long hair and androgynous features, he could easily be mistaken for a woman at first glance—but he was male.

Though he appeared to be around twelve years old, his height was comparable to that of an adult man.

Tap, clack—tap, clack—footsteps echoed.

His right leg made the heavy sound of a shoe, while his left leg was missing below the knee, fitted instead with a simple prosthetic made from a wooden rod.

For an ordinary person, such imbalance would make walking awkward, but he had lived with this prosthetic for many years now.

He held a handmade cup in his left hand.

Ink stains marred the left hem of his shirt, and despite the white, carefully kept long-sleeved collared dress shirt, it somehow failed to look neat.

His right arm was not through its sleeve, hanging loosely at his side.

Squinting at the sunlight streaming through the window, he drank the coffee in his cup.

The heat lightly burned the tip of his tongue, and he set the cup down on the window sill.

“Guhh…”

As he stretched his whole body, his spine cracked loudly. Having spent the entire night at his desk, his body had stiffened.

He loosened his tense muscles with some light stretching.

“…All right. I’ll head to the village for the first time in a while.”

He slipped on a black-centered jacket over the stained dress shirt.

It was made from the hide of a black dragon he had once hunted and dismantled—an item with a unique luster that naturally inspired awe.

For some reason, a single white glove was fastened to the right shoulder.

The seams were tied with red dragon whiskers, and the buttons and shoulder ornaments were crafted from various magical beast materials.

The room was packed with bookshelves, while the desk was buried under piles of scribbled papers. More papers that wouldn’t fit on the desk were scattered carelessly over the sofa.

He pulled a sheathed one-handed sword from beneath the papers and belted it on. The blade was sharp enough to cut, but maintenance went no further than that.

Leaving the stifling room behind, he stepped outside.

In front of the hut was a small field he had cultivated himself, and beside it stood a large apple tree heavy with fruit.

He picked an apple and started walking, biting into it.

The forest, once dense and ominous, now carried a fresh, clear air thanks to his thinning work.

The magical beasts that had once roamed wildly in search of prey were now properly regulated by him and no longer attacked people or animals indiscriminately.

“…Whoa. Leaving the forest after so long, everything’s really changed.”

At the forest entrance stood a structure resembling a torii gate, suggesting the forest was now regarded as something sacred.

The gravel road, once muddy and difficult to traverse, had been neatly paved with stone, improved so that even carts wouldn’t get stuck.

“Can things really change this much in just a few years?”

He muttered to himself as he walked through the transformed scenery.

Continuing down the tree-lined road rich with greenery, he reached the great tree where Silica had often accompanied him for magic practice.

“There’s a crowd here. What are they doing?”

At the base of the great tree stood several men and women in white robes, all wearing swords.

Each held a single book and murmured quietly to themselves.

“What are you doing?”

He asked one of them.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re reading spellbooks.”

“Spellbooks?”

“These, of course. Though I only have a secondary copy. …But you—your strange appearance, your clothes, and the fact that you don’t even know what a spellbook is—make you quite suspicious.”

As she spoke, the woman fixed her sharp gaze on his prosthetic left leg and the empty right sleeve of his fluttering jacket.

She wore pristine white robes without a stain or wrinkle, her brown hair tied neatly into a ponytail—everything about her suggested meticulousness.

“W-Wait a second. I just came to the village after a long time and thought I’d greet some acquaintances. Then I saw people gathered near the great tree and wondered what was going on.”

He waved his left hand frantically, trying to explain.

“I’ve never seen someone like you before. You’re not from this territory, are you?”

The woman placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“No, really! If you want, just ask Evan-san or Silica!”

“In this territory, there are no people with the audacity to be named ‘Evan’ or ‘Silica.’ If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”

“Whaaat…? No, I mean Evan-san and Silica. He was the young leader a few years back, so maybe he’s the village head now. Silica’s about six years older than me—blonde hair, great with a sword.”

“Young leader? Village head? …This place lies in the northern region of the Santia Kingdom. It’s not some small village or settlement.”

Judging him increasingly suspicious, the woman drew her sword from its sheath.

“We cannot allow an insolent intruder to trespass upon this sacred land marked by holy traces. You will be eliminated!”

She continued while eyeing the sword at his waist.

“You’re armed as well, but I suggest you don’t resist. We are knights sworn to protect this sacred land. We’re not comparable to common swordsmen.”

She took a proper forward stance.

“Hey, once you’ve drawn your sword, resisting is the only way not to get cut down!”

“I’m trained well enough to strike with the flat of the blade. You may break bones, but you’ll live.”

Her eyes sharpened, missing not even the smallest movement he made.