The Scramble (4)
The Empire and every nation respected the authority of warriors who had reached the realm of Sword Seeker. No matter how humble their birth or how mean their origins, once they attained that rank they were granted standing at least equal to a knight’s.
In short, they no longer had to kneel before nobles or bow their heads in deference.
So then.
Najin looked straight ahead.
Men and women stood before him in the uniforms of their respective factions. In ordinary circumstances he would have lowered his head before them; he no longer needed to. He held his chin high and met their eyes.
They, in turn, offered him the bare minimum of courtesy and addressed him. The reception chamber still looked like a battlefield, yet conversation itself was perfectly possible.
“The Schlet Mercenary Corps offers Sir Najin the post of vice-commander. A one-year contract for three hundred platinum coins, plus thirty platinum coins for living expenses. Commission fees will be calculated separately.”
The first calling card came from the Schlet Mercenary Corps—one of the three greatest mercenary bands in the Empire, famous for completing every contract without fail. For a company of that stature to promise the vice-commander’s seat was astonishing enough; three hundred platinum coins made the terms outright outrageous.
The door had been smashed during the fight with Gerd, so every word spoken inside carried clearly to the people waiting outside. Those scouts swallowed dryly at the figures Schlet had named. Then Najin spoke.
“I decline.”
Not a flicker of hesitation.
Even those conditions were insufficient? What better offer had he already received? The Schlet representative left only his card and withdrew in silence.
Next came a knight of the Blansia duchy. Blansia was a storied martial house that had produced countless knights; it counted six Sword Seekers among its own. The knight recited the duke’s personal letter, then laid out terms that exceeded Schlet’s—four hundred platinum coins and a noble title as well. The duke had ordered him, “Change the conditions as you see fit; bring him in by any means.”
Najin’s answer was identical.
“I decline.”
To the Remphon Knights who entered after him:
“I decline.”
To the exclusive-adventurer proposal from Loctid, the Empire’s most prestigious merchant house:
“I decline.”
Mage towers, adventuring companies, knight orders of great houses, every major martial force in the Empire, guilds of the Free Cities, the Holy Body Church…
“I decline.”
Every offer was refused. No matter how extravagant the terms, the reply never changed. Najin simply shook his head as if none of it interested him in the least.
And so he walked out of the reception chamber.
No one stopped him.
When the scouts returned and reported, the leaders of each faction shared a single question: he had accepted nothing? Then who, exactly, had taken the prize?
The Imperial knight orders were the first suspects. Yet Najin returned to Cambria, and the palace made no move. No new Royal Guard was announced; no one reported seeing him set foot in the Imperial barracks.
Next came the Sword Church, the Holy Blood Church, and the knights under Gerd. When Najin had first entered the chamber he had already been speaking with two Sword Masters, and Gerd himself had joined them afterward. Surely one of those three had claimed him?
That, too, proved false.
He visited neither the Holy Blood Church, nor the tower of the First Peak, nor the Sword Church. No further contact. Only the news that he had gone back to Cambria.
An eighteen-year-old who had reached Sword Seeker. His present value was already high; a few more years would drive the price higher still. Should he ever become a Sword Master, the figure would be beyond calculation.
They had to secure him now—yet someone had already taken him.
Several days later a few facts surfaced. Najin remained unaffiliated, yet two patrons had been supporting him long before he ever became a Sword Seeker: Dieta, mistress of the Dieta Merchant House, and Marquis Edelmar, master of the Cambria Foundation.
All eyes fixed on Dieta. Her name was familiar; many still remembered the affair, months earlier, that had entangled her with House Arvenia—a rare romantic resolution in this age. A girl cast out by her own family, and the mercenary who had risked his life against the ducal captain for her sake. Those who replayed the tale now opened their eyes wide. At the time the mercenary had drawn little notice… but the story had changed.
Agents in Cambria confirmed that the youth once called Ivan was the very mercenary of that affair—and that he remained privately close to the merchant mistress.
The moment the faction leaders learned this, a play opened in the Trevache Territory ruled by Marquis Edelmar: a theatrical production centered on the youngest Sword Seeker, Najin. Watching the marquis draw audiences from across the Empire, the leaders could only laugh bitterly.
They understood at last: while the star had yet to shine, some had already seen its light and taken their places in line.
Alongside Najin’s name, Dieta’s began to circulate among the Empire’s powerful.
“Please call me Dieta, investment genius who bought the youngest Sword Seeker’s goodwill with a single meal.”
“What on earth are you talking about all of a sudden?”
Najin tilted his head at the woman beaming in front of him. Lately the smile never left Dieta’s lips; she looked as though the entire world had become too delightful to bear.
“I picked up a coin off the floor and it turned out to be platinum… no, a diamond… wait, not even a diamond. What do you call this? A star?”
Najin snorted, glancing at her radiant face. He could roughly guess why she was so happy these days. Word was the merchant house’s stock kept setting new highs.
The old title “one of Cambria’s top three houses” had long since been replaced by “Cambria’s foremost merchant house,” and the advance into a base in the imperial capital was proceeding smoothly.
Another month or two, she said.
She would move to the capital and expand in earnest; even while buried under the preparations she kept smiling, as if the work itself were pure joy.
“Anyway,” Dieta said, the smile fading. She exhaled slowly and narrowed her eyes.
“Najin.”
“Yes?”
“You weren’t twenty-eight. You weren’t even in your early twenties. What is this?”
She pointed at the framed newspaper clipping on the office wall. The headline blared beside his photograph: Najin, Youngest Sword Seeker—Reached the Realm at Eighteen.
“Unless my eyes are broken, that says eighteen.”
“…”
“You’re looking away again!”
When Najin’s gaze slid aside, Dieta slapped the table and jabbed a finger at him.
“You said we were the same age!”
“I never said that.”
“You said the age difference wasn’t much!”
“Two years isn’t much.”
“That—well—honestly…”
Dieta pushed her bangs back.
“You’re two years younger than me…”
“So it turns out.”
“I was sure you were older.”
Later—much later—if they ever became lovers, she would have to call him “big brother,” wouldn’t she? Dieta had once fallen asleep with a sly smile under her blankets, entertaining that fantasy. The memory flooded back and painted her face scarlet.
Not big brother—he would have to call me big sister… Wait.
That… wasn’t so bad either?
She covered her mouth with one hand. The brief mental image had been surprisingly appealing.
“Dieta?”
“Y-yes?”
Her shoulders gave a tiny jump at his voice.
“Sorry for hiding my age. I just… never found the right moment to say it.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I was only surprised.”
She smiled softly.
“Anyway—congratulations, Najin.”
She handed him a bundle of letters that had arrived while he was in the capital. From the thick stack she pointed to the two on top.
“One is a letter of congratulations from His Majesty the Emperor.”
The imperial crest was pressed into the seal.
“And the other is from the Knights of Atanga.”
Beside it lay a letter bearing the crest of Atanga.
Both congratulated him on reaching the realm of Sword Seeker. As he accepted them, Najin fell briefly silent. The fact that he had truly become a Sword Seeker settled over him at last.
He had been born in a subterranean city where no stars could be seen. He had left no name anywhere; the very fact of his existence had gone unrecorded. In truth he had been a man who might as well never have lived.
That was no longer true.
His name now spread across the Empire. Together with the title of youngest Sword Seeker, “Najin” would be written into the imperial histories. He had carved proof that he had existed into the Empire’s record.
But this is only the beginning.
From here he would leave far more marks. He had not the slightest intention of being content with a line or two in the history books. He would force those books to be rewritten from cover to cover. And not only the histories—the very myth that began with King Arthur would have to be rewritten as well.
He would make it so.
With his own sword.
Looking at the letters, Najin smiled.
The vast landscape of a subterranean city.
In his greatly expanded inner world Najin sat perched on a low wall. Looking down a little, he saw a lake that had no business being there.
The lake Merlin had begged for so desperately.
Having finally recreated it upon becoming a Sword Seeker, Merlin now paddled her feet in the water, kicking up cheerful splashes. Najin eyed the water-play and spoke.
“Merlin.”
“Hm? What?”
“Those dragons you and Arthur brought down…”
The two dragons sealed beneath Stonehenge.
“Can you tell me about them in detail?”
“I was going to even if you hadn’t asked.”
Merlin’s lips curved.
“You’ve reached Sword Seeker and laid a solid foundation. Time to stand at the real starting line, don’t you think?”
“This still isn’t the starting line?”
“Of course not. You need at least one star before you can say you’ve begun.”
She flicked her fingers. Droplets of water rose from the lake and hung glittering in the air.
“One is the White Dragon. The other is the Red Dragon.”
The floating droplets dyed themselves scarlet and pure white.
“The dragons Arthur and I once brought down.”
The two beasts that had once terrified Cambria. As she began to explain, Merlin stretched out a pale hand and pointed straight at Najin.
“And the dragons you will have to bring down once more.”