The Lost One (2)
Graf swung his sword.
There was no warning to the strike. His expression stayed natural, his breathing even; not a shred of hostility could be felt. As casually as drawing a breath, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Graf cut with his blade.
No matter how sharp Najin’s reactions were, answering an attack that came in like this was never easy. Difficult as it was, the instant Graf’s sword moved, Najin drew.
A harsh screech of clashing aura rang out as Najin was driven a step backward.
“Quick reactions. Impressive.”
Graf muttered.
As he said, Najin’s reactions were fast—but in this case that was not the only reason. Najin had been wary of Graf from the start. From before the man had even drawn his sword.
Of course I was.
The humans sprawled across the ground, burned by Graf’s aura. Their vocal cords had been charred, so their voices never reached him, yet from the shapes of their mouths Najin had known exactly what they had been trying to say.
They insulted my pride. Called me no knight, no Kurtan, living out here in the Outer Land like this. They humiliated me.
That was what Graf had claimed.
What they had actually been trying to say was this:
Wrong. That bastard killed my comrades.
In other words, the one who had attacked first was him.
From the moment he understood those words, Najin had kept a hand on the hilt at his waist, ready to answer at any second. So when the ambush finally came, his face twisted.
“You said your name was Graf.”
“Mm. That is my name, yes.”
“You called yourself a knight, didn’t you?”
Because of the ambush? No.
The fact that the man had introduced himself as a knight was what furrowed Najin’s brow.
“Of course. I am Graf, knight of the valiant Kurtan.”
“Ambush. Desecrating corpses. Cannibalism. What kind of knight in this world takes pleasure in filth like that?”
“In the Outer Land everyone does. Out here this is normal. You’re still young—I suppose you wouldn’t know.”
As if to ask what could possibly be strange about it, Graf shrugged. He spun his sword once in a lazy circle and settled into stance. Azure aura blazed along the edge of the blade, coiling like living fire.
Because that stance was perfect—because it was the model of knightly discipline, measured and exact—Najin’s expression twisted a little further.
“Do not take what is not natural as natural. Have you never heard that?”
“A knight’s precept, is it. And so what? Putting survival above every other value is only natural, is it not? When humans slaughter livestock, they do not call it ‘evil,’ do they? It is the same. Out here, this is simply how things are.”
“If that is how you are going to talk—”
Najin’s aura flared pure white.
“—then you should never have called yourself a knight.”
He slammed a foot into the earth and was about to hurl himself at Graf when Merlin’s voice rang in his ear.
—Don’t.
Not the voice he always heard from her. Firm. Cold. Merlin warned him.
—From here on, do not fight carelessly. Honestly… it may already be too late.
What? What do you mean by—
Najin understood the reason for her warning almost at once. The man standing in front of him supplied the answer.
“Ah. Damn.”
Graf sighed.
“The crows have noticed.”
Arrows poured toward Najin and Graf. They were far too large to be called arrows—closer to spears. In fact, actual spears were mixed among them.
A dense, hammering rain of projectiles.
As every kind of thrown weapon came down, Najin batted them aside with his sword and threw himself sideways. An instant later a heavy thud shook the ground where he had been standing; the earth there collapsed into a crater.
Najin turned his gaze on the attackers.
Ambushers filled the surroundings—how long they had been watching, from where, he had no idea. At least eight of them. Najin’s eyes narrowed. The presence rolling off them was anything but ordinary.
Living in the Outer Land meant, by definition, that they had reached at least the realm of Sword Seeker.
And judging by the perfectly controlled aura and suppressed presence, they were clearly among the skilled even within that rank—veterans who had spent long years refining themselves after reaching the realm. The kind of fighters who could give the current Najin a real fight.
“Hey! Crow friends!”
Having cut down the arrows aimed at himself, Graf shouted toward them.
“That one over there seems to carry two stars. Stars that still shine, no less. Far more valuable than a worn-out star like mine, wouldn’t you say?”
He spread both arms and smiled.
“And this fellow is stronger than he looks. You saw that reaction just now, yes? We might lose him.”
“……”
“So how about we split the take? I’ll help with the hunt.”
“The split.”
“I found him first, didn’t I? Give me three tenths.”
“Two.”
“Stingy lot. Fine, fine. Have it your way.”
The deal was struck.
They said nothing more. Turning their bowstrings and spearpoints from Graf onto Najin was answer enough. Watching the entire exchange, Najin was, for once, genuinely stunned.
What the hell is this…?
—I told you.
Arrows fell again. Someone slammed a foot down and hurled a spear. The instant Najin knocked aside the weapon cutting through the air, he was driven far back. His grip burned. Seizing the opening, Graf and the other ambushers closed in.
—This is that kind of land.
Steel screamed against steel.
Driven by the relentless barrage, Najin rolled across the ground and came up again. When he snapped his head up, what filled his vision were the eyes of beasts. Nine humans were charging him like animals.
Their gazes were locked on his heart.
A curse rose in Najin’s throat. Fresh off the boat and already living through every kind of nightmare. Merlin had told him what the Outer Land was like, but living it was different. And what appalled him most of all was—
the complete absence of hostility in their eyes and bodies. To them, all of this was simply natural.
Humans rarely feel guilt when they hunt beasts. It was the same logic. To these people, hunting humans did not seem so very different from hunting animals.
For long ages humanity had eaten other lives in order to survive. In the Outer Land, the only change was that the prey had become other humans.
The hunters closed on the appetizing game.
2.
A straight fight was impossible. One at a time might have been different, but facing that many skilled fighters at once was too much even for Najin.
He spun and ran.
As the ambushers gave chase, Najin flung himself toward a steep slope. On the descent he did not slow; he kicked off the earth and nearly flew, putting distance between them.
When Najin truly decided to run, few people in the world could catch him. His speed and skill at flight were famous.
A vicious whistle split the air.
But not in the Outer Land.
Arrows flew at the running Najin with perfect accuracy. Had he not twisted, one would have punched clean through his spine. He twisted—yet a following shaft grazed his calf.
Flesh tore free even from a graze. The instant Najin staggered, a streak of light lanced toward him. Only belatedly did he realize it was a spear. An unavoidable strike. The moment he slapped it aside with his sword, he lost his balance and tumbled down the slope.
Still—he had forced the man to lose the spear. There should be a window before the next attack. He thought that for only a moment.
『The spear does not leave my side.』
The spear that had been driven into the earth tore free and streaked back toward the ambusher’s hand at the exact speed it had been thrown. The man caught it and, using the rebound, spun once and hurled it again in the same motion.
A howling streak cut the air.
The moment Najin batted the spear aside a second time, a wet crack sounded from his fingers. No time to rest.
Arrows, spearheads, and magic came at him again. And as if that were not enough, Graf—who had closed the distance without warning—cut at him with his sword.
Flame roared.
Najin arched backward, barely avoiding the blow, and swung to drive Graf off. But Graf was no soft opponent either. Steel grated; he took the strike and flung himself sideways. Something that had been hidden behind his body suddenly filled Najin’s vision: five arrows.
Even so, Najin answered. He managed to cut four of them down—yet the last buried itself in his shoulder. The impact shattered his balance.
And then the same pattern repeated.
Every step of it was far too smooth. This was not the work of people who had tried it once or twice; there was no gap between attacks. A near-perfect coordinated assault.
—Stay calm.
Merlin’s voice rang at his ear.
A cool voice that pressed down on his hammering heart.
—I’ll show you the path.
Merlin reached out and gently closed her hand over the one gripping Najin’s sword. There was no warmth. No sensation of touch. Yet her presence was unmistakable.
—You’re good at running, aren’t you? Stay calm. There are plenty of places to flee here. Even more places to hide.
Najin’s narrowed vision opened again.
—Don’t fear the wounds. Out here in the Outer Land, injuries like these are nothing. The power of the stars grows stronger, and so does your recovery. So stay calm.
He did. Najin drew a deep breath and forced strength into his eyes. Bloodshot pupils read the terrain. Keeping the ambushers’ movements in view, he moved.
—Yes. Like that.
Merlin smiled.
She pointed. Terrain choked with fallen stone and timber. Najin ran that way. Open ground was a disadvantage. So he would draw them into narrow spaces thick with cover that blocked line of sight.
Basic combat doctrine. Najin stayed faithful to the basics. He lured the ambushers into the choke points.
“I’ll handle it.”
The ones chasing him were not ignorant of the tactic. Without slowing, still in full stride, Graf slammed his foot into the earth. Blue flame surged high above his blade.
A powerhouse of Sword Seeker caliber was not bound by obstacles. Clearing them from his path was enough.
『My sword is fire—a blue wave.』
The flames grew fiercer. Graf swung the seething blue blaze. Azure fire rolled like a wave. Rock that met the blue aura melted; trees burned to a handful of ash. When the blue fire swept past, the obstacles were gone and the view opened wide.
And one of Graf’s arms went spinning through the air.
In the same instant Graf swung, the hidden Najin had already charged. Using the blue flames that blinded Graf for a heartbeat, Najin slipped in and severed the arm. Blood sprayed as Najin twisted the wrist that held his sword.
He changed the arc of the tip and thrust straight upward. Graf pulled his own blade in to guard his heart—but Najin’s point was not aiming for the heart.
—Aiming for the heart is good, but you don’t always have to aim only for the heart.
Najin’s tip drove up under Graf’s jaw. He put power into the hand on the hilt. The point that entered beneath the chin burst free through the crown of the skull. A clean thrust. The moment Najin recovered his blade, Graf’s body crumpled forward.
As Najin moved to pierce the heart again, Graf’s eyes flashed. Even with his head run through, even with his eyes rolled back, the arm moved—like a monster acting on pure instinct with no consciousness left.
Those who survived long years in the Outer Land gradually ceased to be human. Graf was already such a being. Bleeding freely from eyes and nose yet still moving, he was genuinely frightening.
—If you skewer the head, they start acting like beasts. See? A little easier to deal with, right? Their movements get simpler.
Merlin was right. Najin kicked off the ground and opened distance. The spot he had just left was instantly riddled with arrows. Only Graf remained there, and the shafts punched through his body.
Then—
A spear howled in and impaled Graf’s heart. Watching as he pulled away, Najin let out a short, incredulous breath. So they had only made a temporary deal; they were not comrades. The man who recovered the spear bit into the heart dangling from its tip. As he chewed and swallowed, he was smiling.
As if in rapture.
“Nothing but animal bastards.”
So this was the Outer Land. Was this the kind of people he would have to survive among from now on? While Najin was thinking that, the Outer Land was more than happy to whisper in his ear.
You think this is all?
Najin felt the number of presences increase. The ambushers hunting him had already multiplied. Every time he kicked off the earth and ran, every time he set foot in new terrain, more of them appeared.
And every one of them was skilled.
Sword Seekers swarmed.
On the Continent a Sword Seeker was a precious asset. Not in the Outer Land. Why? Reaching Sword Seeker was supposed to be a realm only geniuses attained after years of effort. These were not fighters one should meet this casually.
—In a single era, yes.
Merlin said.
—Looking at ten years, or even fifty, not many Sword Seekers are born. But stretch that span to a hundred years, five hundred, a thousand?
Those freed from aging.
Those who had drawn far from death.
Such people lived for centuries beyond a human lifespan. Even if they were driven from the Continent, they did not vanish; they simply accumulated, layer upon layer, beyond the edge of the world.
—This place is the sedimentary layer of human history.
A land where countless powerhouses had settled over nearly a thousand years. Though blocked by the wall and unable to reach transcendence, it was filled with people who had accumulated at least a century of experience each.
—And.
Najin’s eyes flew wide.
Fleeing the pursuit, he jerked his head down. Something enormous swept past overhead. Immediately afterward came a bone-chilling sound—kkwa-deu-deu-deu-deuk!—and the trees that filled the forest were torn up by the roots.
When he looked back, a giant stood there. Only belatedly did Najin realize the giant’s palm had just skimmed over his head.
—It is also a land crawling with monsters from the Age of Myths.
The giant roared.
Roaring, it reached for Najin. No room to dodge. Still running, Najin shifted his grip on the sword, about to cut the giant’s hand away—
“This way, boy.”
Someone seized his arm and yanked.