From Iron to Bronze
Ceris
The moment I strode into the Swordsman Guild with all the boldness I could muster, I froze in my tracks.
Never mind the thick reek of oil and iron that hung in the air—every single person walking around nearby was enormous. Watching those massive shadows swing back and forth made me shrink in on myself without thinking. On top of that, the stares fixed on me were countless; people had even stopped what they were doing just to look. How many people could move freely under that kind of pressure and tension?
I drew a slow breath to steady myself and headed toward what looked like the reception counter. The clerk working there at least had a kind face—a woman with long hair tied back and glasses perched on her nose. A long sword scar cut across her cheek. Was there some unspoken rule that every swordsman in this world had to wear a scar on their face?
I stared at her for a long while with that thought in mind. She tilted her head and asked,
"What business do you have?"
"I-I'm here to become a swordsman."
"Ah?"
At my answer she looked me up and down. I swallowed hard and waited for whatever came next. After looking me over, she set a clean white sheet of paper on the table and brought a pen to it. Then the questions started flying.
"Have you studied swordsmanship separately?"
"Yes."
"What school of swordsmanship?"
"S-school?"
"The name of the style, or the name of the master who taught you—anything like that?"
I swallowed dryly and nodded. The swordsmanship the Gatekeeper had taught me didn't have a name. Of course I didn't know his name either. If I'd known it would matter, I would have at least asked.
"I see. Then how long did you train?"
"Uh, about five months...?"
"Name?"
Here I hesitated for a beat. I couldn't use Emily, the name I'd always gone by. To throw my family off my trail I needed something completely different.
"Ce-Ceris."
"Name is Ceris... surname...?"
"I don't have one."
She nodded at my answer and kept writing, then continued the questions without pause.
"Any experience hunting monsters?"
"One wolf...?"
"Oh..."
She made a curious little sound at that. Her gaze drifted to the wolf-fur hood I was wearing, lingering on the wolf's head that still sat clearly on top. I nodded and gave the head a little shake.
"Caught it on the way here, did you?"
"How did you know?"
"That hide hasn't been tamed yet."
So she could tell even that. I cradled the wolf's head against me and nodded.
"Five-month novice swordsman. Young age and small build—point deductions... monster-hunting experience—bonus points..."
She started scoring based on what she'd written. It seemed the Swordsman Guild had its own special criteria. Her hand moved without hesitation. Even on tiptoe I couldn't see over the counter, so I had no idea what she was checking off.
"Ah, do you have the registration fee? I forgot to ask."
"How much is the registration fee?"
"Base is five silver."
Mary had already told me about the fee, so I wasn't caught off guard. I pulled five silver coins from my leather pouch and set them on the counter. Considering a night at the inn with meals included cost two silver a day, wasn't a registration fee rather steep? That thought brought back the one silver I'd spent on hair dye.
"Here."
What she handed me was a sheet of paper cut in half. On it was written the swordsman rank I was to receive.
I had no idea how many ranks the Swordsman Guild could assign, but my guess was that this was the lowest. Well, whatever. The woman directed me to the second floor.
"Go up to the second floor and find the examiner. He's a bald, rough-looking guy—you won't mix him up with anyone else."
"Do they give out the rank badge there?"
"After you show a few sword techniques."
Her voice was surprisingly kind. That kindness was probably thanks to my bright looks. The other clerks were treating customers with much sharper tones. Following her directions, I headed upstairs and quickly spotted the man who looked like the examiner. Who could mistake that gleaming bald head lounging on a plush sofa?
I approached him.
"Huh?"
He turned toward me as I came closer, wearing a puzzled expression. Then he saw the iron sword on my back and the paper in my hand, and stood up. Even so, he still looked down at me with a doubtful face.
"Here for the rank-badge issuance exam?"
He asked as if confirming his own guess. I nodded and handed him the paper. He took it, twitched an eyebrow, and nodded. Then he turned and gestured for me to follow. I trotted after him.
The second floor's layout was fascinating—an open space designed so you could take everything in at a glance. In the center sat a sparring arena of solid marble.
"Get up here."
While I was examining the polished marble floor, the bald man's voice reached me. I hurriedly nodded and stepped onto it.
"The rank you're to receive is Iron. If you think that judgment is unfair, say so now."
"What happens then?"
"You take the exam for a higher rank instead."
"I see..."
"So what's it going to be?"
"I think Iron is right for me."
"Wise."
He nodded as if satisfied with my answer. He ran a hand once over his bald head, then drew an iron sword that had been hanging on the arena wall.
Shiiing—
A clear blade slid free with a chilling sound. I felt a cold aura pour out along with a blue gleam. The presence of the man who had looked like an ordinary neighborhood uncle flipped in an instant. Just drawing a sword, and the change was this dramatic? Did everyone who trained with a sword end up like that?
While I stared in surprise, he spoke.
"Draw your sword."
"Ah, yes."
I drew as ordered.
—Shring
Despite its worn appearance, the heavy iron sword had a keen edge. A faint smell of oil and wolf's blood drifted from it. I'd thought I'd cleaned it thoroughly, but the scent of wolf blood still lingered.
"A fine sword."
The examiner smiled faintly as he looked at mine. I nodded and settled into my stance.
"I won't attack, so come at me as you like."
The same words Philip had used. Just when would the day come that I could cross blades as an equal with people like them? I let out a slow breath and began to close the distance.
That was how the first strike began. Recalling pale moonlight falling from the sky, I brought the sword down in a cut.
Whiiish—! Kaaang—!
The glittering moonlight scattered. The attack was blocked so easily it felt hollow. But I wasn't disappointed. I'd expected that result anyway. I simply pressed on with the next attack, pouring out everything I had learned in those short five months.
As time passed my breath grew short and the sword in my hand felt heavier. In the middle of swinging wildly, a strange presence surged from the opponent whose blade was locked with mine. It felt like a sharp knife slicing across my skin. Every hair on my body stood on end and my vision narrowed. My mind naturally settled on a single word.
Death.
In that instant my body moved as if in a seizure. Every sword technique I had learned crushed together into one, and a hazy form rose in my mind. It was right around the time winter had just begun after I started learning the sword. The Gatekeeper, drunk, had shown me a single technique. It had been so brief a brush that I hadn't even properly registered it—so why was it surfacing now?
Ssshk—
The sword in my hand drew back. Right after, pale moonlight began to take vague shape. The moment I instinctively knew the preparation was complete, a tiny spark of power inside me exploded into motion. But the force was extremely faint. The power that had been stretching toward my arms and legs vanished in an instant. Even so, it was enough for now.
Kiiik—!
Strength flooded the leg I was standing on and I slipped slightly on the marble floor. Immediately the drawn-back sword shot forward like a bolt of light.
Shuuuk—!
Looking at the brilliant moonlight, I understood. This sword technique had to flow like water, linked without break. The Gatekeeper hadn't taught me everything. Realization arrives without warning. This was the moment of sudden enlightenment.
Kaaang—!
The fired moonlight shattered against his sword. The forms of the sword techniques I had learned numbered more than ten. Countless shapes of swordsmanship began to scatter along with the moonlight. What remained after the scattering were only two forms. The vividly shining moonlight burned itself into my mind.
"Pass!"
After passing the exam I waited for the rank badge to be issued. I looked down at my tingling hands. The sensation was still vivid. Recalling the fragments of pure white moonlight that had unfolded from my fingertips, the pounding in my chest refused to settle.
"Take it."
Just then the examiner approached and handed me a copper-colored badge. It wasn't an Iron badge.
"This is Bronze, though?"
"That's right. And it's what you ought to receive."
"...Is it higher than Iron?"
He nodded as if that were obvious, then placed the Bronze badge in my hand and said,
"Your swordsmanship was clean. No bad habits, and you even have a trump card that can save your life. Build up experience and you'll climb to Silver rank in no time."
"But I took the Iron-rank exam."
"So you don't want it?"
"Ah—no..."
I hurriedly shook my head at his question. A rank higher than Iron would come with more privileges. Better to accept a good thing than kick it away. I fastened the rank badge at my waist. It was light enough that it wouldn't get in the way.
The examiner also handed me a small booklet. It listed the benefits for each rank and the fees charged every time an adventurer completed a mission. Apparently guilds like this operated by taking a cut of the income adventurers earned from their jobs.
I read the booklet on the way back to the inn. The moment I returned, a small girl came dashing toward me. It was Mary, the inn girl. She waved happily, then closed her mouth. Only then did I remember I hadn't told her my name.
"Ceris."
From today on, my new name was Ceris.