Episode 14

“Van-san, pick up your sword. We’re not finished yet.”

Van flinched under the sharp gaze that pinned him.

Glanz’s expression was that of a warrior. The air felt like a battlefield, and confusion rose in him despite himself.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you say a professional swordsman couldn’t possibly lose to a mage?”

“No, wait a second—”

“No arguments.”

Van barely dodged the sweeping slash. Rolling, he managed to snatch up his sword and put distance between himself and Glanz.

“Wait a second… In a real battle, do you think that works? Would an enemy give you time to pick up your sword?”

Glanz’s face remained severe. The way he held his sword looked no different from a true swordsman.

“Van-san, you’re free to think what you want and act however you want. But… there are things you can’t take back once you’ve lost them.”

“Damn it…”

Van’s blade met Glanz’s, and they locked at the guard.

Van tried desperately to push back, but Glanz did not move an inch.

“Sword and magic are the same. Your state of mind shows plainly. Your sword is far too light.”

“—!? That’s not true! My sword—my sword and Gramps’ sword—aren’t light!”

A harsh screech of metal grinding filled the air. Whether from Van’s emotions or not, his blade began to heat.

“They say warriors can read their opponent’s strength when weapons clash. Van-san, two years ago you learned of an existence that could become the strongest…”

“What the hell is your problem!?”

As if to oppose the heat, Glanz wrapped water around his blade. The heat cooled, and steam began to drift around them.

“The one who would follow the Sword Saint. A new strongest to carry the next era. Even if your head denies it, your heart understands. Because you’re a skilled swordsman…”

“…Shut up.”

Their figures disappeared into the steam, their view bleaching white.

“You realized the Sword Saint’s end would come someday.”

“SHUT UUUUP!”

Van’s flames blew away the steam that had spread across the entire vacant lot in an instant. The updraft kicked up violent wind around them.

“This is… Masfelt’s—the Sword Saint’s…”

Behind Van, a gigantic mighty arm appeared. A single arm of a flame avatar forged from searing fire. In its hand, a greatsword of fire materialized as well.

When Van pointed his sword tip toward Glanz, the mighty arm moved in tandem.

“This is Gramps’ power… Gramps is the strongest!”

“…Van-san. Masfelt-san may indeed be the strongest swordsman, as you say. —But he isn’t perfect.”

“So what.”

Van muttered, and raised his sword high.

He would not hold back. He would not regret it.

He could not allow an existence that denied the Sword Saint—even if it was the Sage who once stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

If he did not do this—if it was not this way—then everything until now would be denied.

“Burn it all away…!”

The flame avatar’s slash came crashing down. The sword of roaring fire in that mighty hand bared its fangs, ready to incinerate not only Glanz but everything around them.

Light flashed over the town, already sinking into dusk. The blazing flames made the world glow red and hot.

“Van-san. You cannot become Masfelt-san. First, you must admit that.”

In contrast to Van, Glanz’s sword was quiet.

“And you must understand that perfection does not exist.”

He wrapped his blade in mana as calm as a lull. There was no showiness, and no overwhelming power could be felt.

“People… cannot live alone.”

A single flash.

He sliced through the burning avatar’s arm and greatsword in a straight horizontal line.

Sound vanished, flames vanished, and a fierce gust raged through the lot.

The flame avatar manifested behind Van was completely extinguished.

“Someday, I would like to see your sword when your heart is at peace.”

With those words, Van’s fighting spirit faded as well.

As the town sank into darkness, two shadows sat in the vacant lot.

Glanz and Van. Their fight was over, and they sat on the ground.

“Have you calmed down, Van-san?”

“…Weren’t you supposed to be a magic specialist?”

The Sage of the Kingdom of Diabalet—the nation’s wisdom, said to have approached the essence of magic itself.

Van was thoroughly indifferent to things that did not interest him, but he heard the Sage spoken of often enough that it had stuck in his head. A vague understanding: he used incredible magic.

“Of course magic is my specialty. I was a mage, after all.”

“So I lost in swordplay even to a former mage…”

Van drooped his head. In the royal capital and in the Lagias Dungeon, Zeke had beaten him beyond any hope. But this time, the mental damage felt even worse.

Carelessness born from arrogance, and a straightforward loss of strength. Van did not even have excuses left.

“This may sound like consolation, but… your sword is not weak.”

Yeah, right, Van thought inwardly. If they had come this far, he wanted Glanz to keep insulting him to the end. Half-baked kindness only made him sink lower.

“If you were in peak condition, that last strike would have turned me to ash.”

“That’s impossible. I still haven’t mastered Gramps’ ultimate technique.”

Van laughed with self-mockery.

He had trained with his grandfather, Masfelt, for years. He learned and honed many forms of swordsmanship, but he could not reach the Sword Saint’s ultimate art.

“I should’ve known. Nothing stays the strongest forever. The next one always appears. And it just wasn’t me…”

It was not only the noble his age he met in the royal capital. The Sage in front of him, too. There were plenty of people better than him. Because of people like them, the Sword Saint’s name and memory would eventually fade from the people’s minds.

“I wasn’t… special. I was just the Sword Saint’s grandson.”

His vision blurred. It felt like everything he had built was collapsing. He had tried not to look, not to notice—but he had reached his limit.

“Van-san… why did you decide to become a swordsman?”

“Why…?”

He searched his memory. There had not been some big trigger.

A duel he saw as a child between his father and grandfather. His gentle mother watching from a distance.

The sight of blades clashing faster than his eyes could follow had filled him with pure admiration. Someday, he wanted to be like that too, and he swung a wooden stick. That was the beginning.

“…Because it looked cool, I guess. What a stupid reason. There’s no way that makes you strong.”

“I… think that’s fine.”

Van lifted his face.

Unlike the severe face during their bout, Glanz wore a calm smile. It was a gentle, sun-warmed smile.

“Isn’t that good enough? It looks cool, you want to be strong, you want to become like someone. Those are feelings everyone has.”

“No, but that’s such a childish reason—”

“Van-san. Masfelt-san whom you admire, and this old man in front of you—everyone starts as a child. It’s because we’re children that we can grow.”

It was hard to imagine, considering how Masfelt would thunder at Van, but it was true. If someone were born an old man, that would be horror in a different genre. Even that obvious fact had slipped Van’s mind.

“You’re free to aim for Masfelt-san, and you’re free to see Zeke-san as a rival. …But is that what you need right now?”

“…!”

“The time Masfelt-san has left… is not long.”

Van swallowed hard.

The very reason he had left the trading company and traveled was to search for a way to treat Masfelt.

The Maria Church’s treatment had not worked. The Apothecaries Association’s medicine had not worked. That was why he clung to a thin hope and challenged an unexplored dungeon.

“You’re trapped by too many things, and your mind and body have fallen out of sync. For now, you should focus on one thing. You can think about the rest later.”

Time passed without the results he wanted. When anxiety and impatience drove him, he met Zeke again. The memory from two years ago surged up, and Van lost his bearings.

“How did I… forget something so important?”

Shame had filled his chest, but now it turned into anger—at himself. This really was beyond saving.

“From the look of it, you’ll be fine now. Let’s search for a method together.”

“Together? You—no, Glanz-san, you weren’t even…”

“Once you’re on the boat, you’re on it. Masfelt-san helped me in many ways. …And it seems it isn’t only me.”

Glanz looked toward two figures.

Atri, as expressionless as ever, and Eris, wearing an awkward, troubled smile.

“Atri, sure, but why is Eris here too…?”

“I asked them to gather information.”

As if serving as a light source, glowing spheres floated around the two of them.

“Once I heard the situation, there’s no way I could just ignore it. …That said, you’re paying me properly.”

“Ho-ho, you’re shrewd, Eris-san.”

“Obviously,” Eris said, puffing out her chest. Her straightforward nature, with no hidden side, looked radiant to Van right now.

“…Van, you idiot?”

“Yeah. I got worked harder than Gramps ever did. But thanks to that, I feel like I woke up.”

Resolve shone in his eyes. Atri felt relieved, seeing how he differed from the days he swung his sword blindly.

“So—any information on the basilisk?”

“Nope. At least, there were no requests. It’s a ‘dragon’ and all, and I heard it’s a rare species to begin with.”

“Basilisk? What are you talking about?”

“Right, you wouldn’t know.”

Eris said, and explained. The basilisk might be the key to saving Masfelt—information Zeke had brought.

“Why would he say something like that… no, that’s not the point right now.”

“I heard from Atri-san, but Masfelt-san’s symptoms closely resemble a certain strange illness. It’s called ‘Mana Sclerosis.’”

Mana sclerosis. Van tilted his head at the unfamiliar name. Eris and Atri did the same.

“It’s a disease with many unknowns, though a treatment was found a few years ago. In this town, there was a boy who overcame ‘mana sclerosis.’”

A boy who had lived in Rent Domain—twelve years old at the time.

His father, a regimental commander in the knight order, tried every possible method, but the boy did not recover.

“Don’t tell me that boy is…”

“Yes—Luke Hartmann-san. He’s that boy.”

Luke Hartmann. Van knew the name. Someone his age had joined the knight order as the youngest ever.

Van had been curious what kind of person he was.

“So that’s why you chose this place to recuperate.”

“It was also because it was close. …If there’s no basilisk information, gathering stories about him may be worthwhile.”

It connected. Once, everything had felt wasted and he had returned to the starting line—but there was still possibility.

He could give up anytime. It was not over yet.

“Alright. Starting tomorrow, we’ll keep looking for basilisk info, and we’ll also ask around about this Luke guy.”

“Now you’re talking!”

“…I’m hungry.”

Why now!? Van snapped, while Eris laughed, and Atri stayed expressionless. Glanz watched the three with a soft smile. A party had formed.

“Well then, it’s getting late. Shall we head back to the inn?”

At Glanz’s words, the three started walking. The heavy atmosphere was gone.

A little behind them, Glanz looked up at the sky. In the cloudless night, the stars shone—like a blessing for the young people moving forward.

“Yes… no one is perfect. Zeke-san, too, is an imperfect human.”

Glanz’s words, tinged with sadness, reached no one’s ears.

The ruins of a Maria Church site. In their hideout—one of their bases in the underground of the derelict structure—several figures were present.

“What rotten luck~. To think we’d run into Lagias.”

Pariaach giggled as if amused. Just by appearance, they looked like nothing more than a child.

“Is he a monster? How can he predict our moves?”

“Yeah… it has to be that a certain amount of information is being fed to Lagias from the royal family. That’s the only explanation.”

Pariaach nodded along, while Dex narrowed his eyes. He was clearly suspicious.

“Come on, come on, let’s ask the person involved. …Hey, Feluart?”

“…Who cares.”

Feluart’s blazing red hair was distinctive, but underground he gave a different impression. Maybe it reflected his state of mind—his red hair looked dull, like embers.

“Looks like you got hit pretty hard. Well, I can’t exactly talk.”

“…Next time I’ll kill him. This time I was just restricted.”

What floated in his eyes was hatred. For Feluart, trapped by hatred, there was something above everything else.

“Don’t. That’s impossible! You can’t ‘kill’ a calamity like that.”

“…Then I’ll go after Lagias’s family. I’ll slaughter every last one.”

“Denied, for multiple reasons. Even if his parents die, that villain won’t feel a thing. And if they die, there’s a high chance the ‘Warden’ gets inherited. If that happens… breaking through becomes a lot harder.”

Dex told him to cool his head, but it did not reach Feluart. Lagias had to be erased. He had to disappear. Feluart had come this far on that thought alone.

“If you keep doing whatever you want, you’ll get in trouble, you know? —Next is effectively the last ‘key.’”

“Yeah. They’re not a single unified block either. We guided it smoothly. Relying only on the ‘alternative plan’ makes me a bit uneasy.”