Outside the World, Outer Land (8)
Outside the world, where irregularity itself was the only law.
Even in a place like the Outer Land, night still came.
In the deep hours, Najin sat perched outside the tent, gazing up at the sky. By day it had been a grotesque swirl of blue and black, but once night settled the heavens unified into pure black, almost ordinary—
Except for the hundreds of stars studding it.
Out here the stars were brilliantly clear.
Looking up from the inland continent, one saw only the great constellations—famous heroes’ stars, mostly. Only on the clearest nights could the smaller ones be glimpsed at all.
Not so here.
In the Outer Land, any glance skyward revealed countless constellations: the celebrated heroes’ patterns and countless tiny ones whose owners no one remembered.
“······.”
Najin exhaled a long breath as he watched the star-strewn sky. To anyone else it would have looked as if he sat alone.
Merlin.
-Yeah. Speak.
He was not alone.
A constellation visible only to his eyes sat right beside him. Merlin brushed back her water-blue hair and swung her legs idly.
The Witch of Flickering, Ermina… she was strong, wasn’t she?
-Of course she was. That bitch was once a transcendent with eight circles and five stars. Falling doesn’t erase the experience and knowledge.
Merlin smiled bitterly.
-If Ermina had recognized you as an enemy from the start—if she’d meant to kill you from the first moment… surviving would’ve been hard. You know that, right?
Of course he knew.
He had felt it the instant he faced her final magic, Flickering—the gulf in rank, the difference in dimension.
-Still, you fought well. Better than I expected.
······.
-You don’t look very satisfied.
Najin let out a long, slow breath.
I just realized I was a frog in a well.
Honestly, he had grown arrogant.
To claim otherwise would be a lie. Youngest Sword Seeker in history. The unparalleled genius who had shaken the entire empire. Those were the words that described him.
He had been careful… yet he had still believed he had firmly entered the ranks of the strong. Objectively speaking, a Sword Seeker was strong.
But the Outer Land did not obey ordinary standards. This was a place where Sword Seekers were reduced to “nobodies” by the monsters that thrived here. Facing the witch had driven that truth home. Hearing it from Merlin was one thing; living it was another.
There are plenty of enemies as strong as Ermina, right?
-Obviously.
Merlin, still perched on the rock, kicked her legs and pointed at the sky full of stars.
-Heroes of the old generations. Heroes of the mythic age. And among them, plenty who fell. Not just the fallen, either. Those who gained eternal flesh but whose minds couldn’t endure eternity and became the undead—there are many of those too.
Once called heroes, centuries ago.
Now broken things wandering the Outer Land as the dead.
-Highest-ranking demons with titles, the lords of the Demonic Realm who command them, the Demon King sitting at the apex of those lords, witches, dragons······.
Special powerhouses who dwelled in the Demonic Realm.
-Fallen stars. Broken stars. Traitors to humanity who collude with Camlann······ endless numbers. The world has as many bastards as it has heroes.
There were some at the Round Table too.
Muttering that, Merlin looked at Najin. Seeing his slightly deflated expression, she burst into soft laughter.
What? Why are you laughing?
-Because the dejected look is funny. Where did the guy who shouted in front of the witch, “It took a mere eighteen years to hold your thousand years for fifteen minutes,” go? All that’s left is this wilted little thing.
I was heated then. When you’re excited you say all kinds of things.
At his mutter Merlin tilted her head, a faint smile still playing on her lips.
-Is that so? I didn’t think it was wrong.
She said,
-Sure, strong things are everywhere in the Outer Land. Transcendents, Demon Kings, demons… look around and it’s nothing but strong bastards. But are any of them special?
Merlin grinned.
The smile of a great mage who could dismiss the Outer Land’s throngs of powerhouses as “nobodies” was light. Still smiling lightly, she leaned her face close to Najin’s.
-They’ve lived hundreds of years—nearly a thousand—and they’re still “only” that strong. Stagnant, stopped things. Not special in the slightest. Not even a little.
The words were for Najin, and at the same time for herself.
Her own time had stopped a thousand years ago and refused to move forward.
-Don’t be afraid, and don’t feel lost. You’re doing more than well enou—
Hey, the encouragement’s appreciated…
Najin, who had been listening, snorted a quiet laugh.
I never thought I was lost or afraid.
-What? That was exactly the face you were making.
Just “there sure are a lot of monsters in the world,” that’s all. Why would I be afraid?
Najin rose to his feet.
“They’re all just footholds for me to step on and climb.”
-Whoa, listen to the kid talk.
Merlin jerked back in mock alarm yet kept smiling, as if she rather liked that way of thinking. The moment Najin turned to head back into the tent—
Tak.
Someone had come to his tent.
The footsteps were light, yet the presence itself was anything but. Drawn by that distinctive sound, Najin looked toward its source.
“Oh, I was wondering whether I should wake you.”
The Sword Master of a forgotten kingdom.
“Seems you hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Got a moment? Even if you don’t, I’d appreciate it if you made one. Busy man that I am, after all.”
The last knight of Rondinel.
Kirchhoff stood there.
2.
Kirchhoff, Sword Master of a forgotten kingdom.
Already a transcendent by the time Rondinel fell, a warrior who had lived at least four hundred years—most of them spent on the battlefields of the Outer Land. A hero.
『He’s not part of the Imperial Army, the Kingdom forces, or the Alliance, yet he always stays on the front. And whenever a crisis breaks out he comes running in a single stride. The lives he’s saved… well, counting them would be meaningless.』
When asked about him, Gillette had answered like that.
『A man worthy of being called a hero.』
『Even the reason he stays on the battlefield.』
『What that reason is?』
『Well, you’d better hear that from the man himself.』
A man worthy of being called a hero.
Najin looked at Kirchhoff, who had simply shown up at his tent. The man’s clothes were thick with soot; dust and dirt clung to him as if he had been roaming the battlefield only moments ago.
“Ermina. No matter how many times I meet her she’s still a fiery woman. Thought I was going to burn to death, you know? Look at this. Skin’s all scorched.”
He laughed lightly and showed Najin his arm. Soot and burn marks remained—but only that. Shallow burns, nothing worse.
Against a witch who had come with killing intent, that was the extent of the damage he had taken.
“What happened to the witch?”
“Ran off like always. Chasing her never ends, so I let her go. I’d love a decisive fight, but she always pulls out. Seems she doesn’t want a battle with stars on the line.”
Kirchhoff shrugged.
What’s a battle with stars on the line?
-There’s such a thing. I’ll explain later.
While conversing with Merlin, Najin flicked a glance at Kirchhoff. True to a transcendent unbound by age, he looked like a young man. The four centuries of weight were nowhere in his light impression.
“I hear you bought me time until I arrived. Gillette told me.”
“It just happened that way, yes.”
“‘Just happened that way,’ he says. You speak far too lightly of a deed you risked your life for. You’re allowed to be a little prouder of it.”
Kirchhoff smiled wryly.
“Thanks to you, a great many soldiers lived. My gratitude for holding out until I got there. And thanks to you I arrived in a truly dramatic moment.”
Dramatic moment?
When Najin tilted his head, Kirchhoff shrugged and whispered as if sharing a secret.
“How was my sword? A lone swordsman cutting under a falling crimson sky. What a magnificent sight, right? Damn it, my liege should have seen it.”
Watching Kirchhoff clench a fist in pure regret, Najin blinked. The man was… lighter than expected.
“A single stroke that tore the red sky apart! Every blow cleaved the witch’s flames and shoved the heat aside! Bards would go mad for material like that. And if I’d been a bit handsomer? The perfect chance to steal the hearts of every lady present—yet the only ones who witnessed my glory were you and a handful of soldiers.”
Mid-speech Kirchhoff chuckled. He had noticed Najin’s bewildered stare.
“Well, that’s how it is. I came to say thanks and leave my mark. On the youngest Sword Seeker whose reputation is already flying around.”
“You knew of me?”
“Anyone who holds a star could hardly fail to notice. The moment you set foot in the Outer Land, every star turned to look at you and started whispering.”
Kirchhoff’s smile turned meaningful.
“Paying attention to a rising new star is only natural. It seems a place for you is already being prepared in that night sky.”
“…What?”
“Oh? You didn’t know?”
Najin blinked.
A place prepared for him in the night sky? His gaze slid sideways. Merlin was deliberately looking away.
I was going to surprise you later, she muttered under her breath. Leaving her behind, Najin turned back to Kirchhoff, who was still speaking.
“You’ve already piled up achievements worthy of being praised as great deeds. All that remains is for them to bear fruit. Buying time against the witch will be part of that.”
“Something like that… counts as a great deed?”
“Of course it does. An untranscended human held a transcendent for fifteen minutes. Not enough for a star of its own, but more than enough to become part of one.”
Pile those things high enough and they become a star.
It isn’t only one colossal achievement that makes a star.
Saying so, Kirchhoff smiled.
“May you seize a shining star, boy.”
He rose.
“Sorry for disturbing your rest. Sleep. I’ve said what I came to say, and I have somewhere else to be tonight, so this is a good place to leave it.”
Watching the man who had appeared in an instant, said only what needed saying, and was already leaving, Najin opened his mouth.
“If it isn’t too forward—”
There was one thing he wanted to know.
“May I ask you a single question?”
“Of course. One is fine.”
“Why do you remain on the battlefield, Sir?”
The question Gillette had said to ask the man himself. At those words Kirchhoff fell silent a moment, then burst into laughter.
He turned and faced Najin.
Then he tapped the hilt of the sword at his waist with the back of his hand. Engraved there was the crest of Rondinel—the kingdom that had fallen and been forgotten.
“Do you know of the nation called Rondinel?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Yes. I am both the last survivor of Rondinel and its last knight. Perhaps its last sword as well.”
The forgotten kingdom, the fallen realm of Rondinel.
Its last knight smiled.
“Even though my homeland has perished, Rondinel still lives and breathes at the tip of my blade. And my liege, the last king of Rondinel, wished for the sword of Rondinel to shine on the battlefield for humanity.”
As splendidly, as gorgeously, as beautifully as possible.
Saying that, Kirchhoff swept his cloak with a flourish.
“I remain on the battlefield and swing my sword so that my lord’s final wish may be fulfilled. There are other reasons as well, but that is the first.”
Does that answer it? Kirchhoff’s question received a nod from Najin. Light tone. Light impression. Yet the weight carried in that sword was anything but light.
“A very knightly reason.”
“Isn’t it? A knightly reason indeed.”
Najin and Kirchhoff looked at each other and smiled. One was a completed knight; the other was a boy who dreamed of becoming one.
“We’ll meet again.”
With those words Kirchhoff left.
As he walked away from the tent, and as Najin stood inside it, both men felt the same intuition. The same thought crossed both minds at once.
They would see each other often from now on.
Often, and entangled in many ways.
It was intuition—perhaps conviction.
For reasons neither could name, both men thought so. And Merlin, who had been turning the name “Rondinel” over in her mind, scowled. A nation destroyed by a fallen star. One of the constellations involved in that fall had just surfaced in her memory.
Three stars had taken part in the destruction of Rondinel. One of them was a star Merlin knew all too well—a star she could never forget.
One of the traitors of the Round Table.
The filthy betrayer who had soiled the name of knight and thereby forever lost the right to call himself one.
Lancelot.
Once the strongest knight of the Round Table.
Recalling that former comrade who had occupied one seat at the table, Merlin’s eyes sank coldly.
3.
The business in the Outer Land was finished.
It was time to head back. The one who came to see Najin off as he prepared to return inland was Gillette. Ordinarily a commander leaving his post would have been unthinkable, but—
“One arm’s gone and I’ve already handed the commander’s seat to my junior. I’ll rest a bit, then come back to the front.”
That was all Gillette said.
Under Gillette’s guidance Najin arrived at the stable nearest the boundary of the Outer Land—the Last Drink. While waiting for the carriage they had called, the two shared a light meal.
“Hah, the owner here really knows how to cook. Maybe because this is already inland? Even the air’s different. The food tastes better, you know?”
Gillette sipped his drink as he spoke.
“Anyway, Najin.”
After the witch incident Gillette had begun calling him by name rather than “brat.” When Najin nodded, Gillette set his cup down and pointed a finger at him.
“You came out here to hunt a wyvern, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“Said you were practicing against flying things…”
“That’s right.”
“So what exactly are you trying to catch that you needed practice against something like a wyvern?”
At the question Najin gave a small laugh.
“A dragon.”
“What?”
“A dragon. A real one.”
Gillette stared blankly for a second, then burst out laughing. A dragon, of all things. If anyone else had claimed they were going to hunt a dragon he would have snorted and moved on, but—
“You’re serious?”
“Why would I lie about something like that?”
“True enough.”
Coming from the boy in front of him, it wasn’t a story that could be laughed off. Certainly, if one intended to hunt a dragon, a wyvern was the ideal practice target.
“So, did the practice help?”
“I’ve got the hang of it.”
“Glad to hear it was useful.”
While they talked the carriage finally arrived—the one bound inland. Watching Najin rise and head toward it, Gillette spoke.
“Hey, Najin.”
The moment Najin looked back, Gillette flicked something toward him. Najin caught it on reflex and looked at what now rested in his hand.
“A gift. Take it.”
It was a chain stake—the emblem of the Chain Corps.
“When you drop that dragon, do me a favor and spread the word that our Chain Corps chains were damn useful.”
“I will.”
Najin laughed quietly and climbed into the carriage.
Now it was time to go drop a dragon.