Who Am I? (3)
The iron bars of House Arvenia were solid.
That was only natural. How could the bars charged with a ducal house’s safety ever be anything less? Forged from materials that would neither break nor bend under ordinary strain, they had safeguarded House Arvenia for long years.
And today, those bars would meet a situation far from ordinary.
"A pleasure to see you, Najin. It’s been a while. Nothing particularly pressing—I simply wondered if you might open this door for me. There is a matter I would discuss."
Someone had seized the bars in both hands. That alone was enough to make them creak and groan as if wailing, I think this is as far as I go, Your Grace. Of course, no one could fault the bars for failing their duty under the circumstances.
The figure gripping them was Yuel.
Yuel Razian, Executioner of the Church.
One of the few Sword Masters on the continent.
Who in the world could stand in a Sword Master’s path? With a sickening crack, the bars’ ribs finally gave way under Yuel’s grip. At the horrific sight, Najin squeezed his eyes shut.
"Would you be so kind as to open the door?"
"Yes—I'll open it, so please stop crumpling the bars."
"Ah."
Pardon me, Yuel said, releasing her hold. Najin offered the tattered bars a brief silent prayer, then opened the door. May you be reborn next life as the bars of some peaceful house that Sword Masters never visit…
"So what brings you here? Dropping by without so much as a word."
"A duel."
"…Naturally, this must be a visit of the utmost importance and gravity, for the safety of the Empire and the Church."
"It is a duel."
"Something to do with demons, perhaps? Ah, of course I'll cooperate. I hold the Holy Blood Church in rather high—"
"Najin?"
Blink. Yuel closed her eyes slowly, then opened them. Her long lashes lifted like curtains drawn aside. Beyond them, blood-red irises fixed on Najin without blinking.
"I did not come for anything so trivial."
Najin nearly protested that imperial security was hardly trivial—but the moment he opened his mouth, Yuel’s head tilted roughly thirty degrees to one side.
Blink.
Her eyes closed and opened once more. Madness glimmered in those crimson pupils, along with a silent pressure that said, spare me the nonsense and get to the point.
"A duel, Najin. A duel where life and death trade places, where blood flies and flesh is cut."
"…"
Najin let out a long sigh.
So it finally came.
2.
Najin cast his mind back to their first meeting. After the subjugation of the black mage Faube, Yuel had looked at the then-Sword Expert Najin and said:
"You possess the makings of a Sword Master. To have reached such a realm at your age—you will surely stand where I stand before long."
You’re talented.
You will become a transcendent, without question.
"When that day comes, I will challenge you to a duel once more. I hope you will not refuse."
And when the time comes I will challenge you, so I hope you don’t refuse. No—you will not be able to refuse. Najin remembered those eyes clearly, the ones that had said as much with a look alone.
"Then I shall wait."
Eyes that seemed unable to contain their anticipation for that day, already drunk on the future that would someday arrive.
Next.
After the subjugation of the Demon King of Lamentation and the Tower of Praise. Yuel had asked whether Najin was the one who had drawn Excalibur, then added:
"Mere curiosity, nothing more. Najin? Should it be that you drew Excalibur, I would have no choice but to duel you. I am most curious what sound it would make if I struck it."
Najin pressed his fingers hard against his throbbing temples and looked up. Yuel was staring straight at him.
"…"
"…"
Silence settled. A tea table stood between them, laden with black tea and assorted snacks, yet Yuel had not touched a single thing. It was Yuel who broke the long quiet.
"Najin."
"Yes."
"When do we duel?"
"Were you serious?"
"I am always serious."
Najin sighed. At a glance Yuel looked like a madwoman—and in truth she was one—but she was a madwoman who had at least completed the bare minimum of socialization. In other words, she could clearly distinguish between things she was allowed to do and things that would get her killed if she tried them.
Suppose she launched into a mass slaughter without cause?
The continent’s transcendents would descend on her in force.
She would not survive, would never enjoy life again, and would be driven straight to the afterlife—so she restrained herself. She suppressed her own killing intent and hunted only criminals she was permitted to kill, ones whose deaths would bring no trouble.
Challenging the strong worked the same way.
If she simply showed up and started swinging her sword, the aftermath would be hard to manage—so she borrowed the excellent device called a duel to settle things. Exactly as she was doing with Najin now.
Still.
Najin sipped his tea and thought.
It means she’s someone I can reason with.
Crazy, lunatic, murderess—whatever infamous titles she wore, Yuel was a rather rational person. Trusting that rationality, Najin spoke.
"What happens if I refuse?"
"Mm. Under imperial law, duels must be mutual agreements except in certain special cases. If you refuse, I have no means to force one upon you."
"Is that so? Then I refuse—"
"However."
Yuel tilted her head.
"If you refuse, I will simply issue another challenge. Will you duel me?"
"A duel, once refused, requires at least ten days—"
"Do you know the privileges held by the Executioner of the Holy Blood Church?"
"Executing criminals?"
"Yes. Also the right to request unlimited duels."
Originally no such privilege had existed. But Yuel had answered the Empire’s call and joined several battles, and in return she had secured the right to unlimited duel requests—precisely for situations like this one.
"I will keep requesting until you accept. As many times as it takes."
Laws against trespassing private property, coercion, intimidation, and the like were not especially useful just now. Most petty statutes could be ignored by a transcendent.
"Haa…"
Najin exhaled a long breath and considered.
A duel? He could fight if he had to.
And he was confident he would not die in the process. It might have been different before, but now, with Excalibur in hand, he could fight her as an equal. He might even win.
He still did not know how far he could go while wielding Excalibur, but he was certain he would not be helplessly crushed.
I might even be able to win.
But winning without injury was impossible. He would take a serious wound somewhere. The idea of walking away with every limb intact against a transcendent of Yuel’s caliber simply did not hold water.
"I am, you see,"
"Yes, go on."
"In a situation where I cannot afford further injuries."
Najin raised his arm. The moment the sleeve fell back and the forearm was revealed, Yuel’s eyes narrowed.
"That is?"
"I expect word has reached you. In the underground city I encountered Mordred, the Knight of Betrayal."
His arm was covered in wounds that had yet to close. He was running Excalibur’s regenerative power at full capacity, but the injuries still needed time.
"I am already busy enough recovering from these. If more wounds pile on top of them… I would be unable to attend the ceremony the Imperial Family is hosting, would I not?"
"Ah. You mean the Pillar Investiture."
"Yes. That."
In roughly ten days, Najin would become one of the Empire’s new pillars. Which number remained undecided, but the seat itself was already assured.
"How about this."
Steadying his breath, Najin made a proposal.
"We duel at the Pillar Investiture."
"Hmm. Before the Emperor, you mean?"
"Yes. Before the Empire’s transcendents."
Yuel tapped her chin once, twice.
"That would make it impossible to cross the line. If the duel grows too fierce, the Empire’s First Horn and the Sword Saint would intervene. It would be rather far from the duel I desire…"
She smacked her lips with open regret.
"Not a proposal I particularly relish. I have been looking forward to this duel since the day we first met, roughly two years ago. The kind of duel you describe—a staged performance—would be difficult for me to find satisfying."
She would do it if she must, her expression said, but she was thoroughly unenthused. Had he not owed her a considerable debt, Najin would have simply ended the conversation whether she was disappointed or not.
But he did owe her.
Their first encounter with the Revelry Emperor, the conquest of La Mancha, and the subsequent campaign against the Demon King of Lamentation. She herself did not regard any of it as a debt, but Najin did. He had received her help; that was fact.
"Of course, it would be a shame to leave it at that, wouldn’t it?"
"What do you mean by that?"
Yuel’s eyes narrowed—curiosity, question.
In a voice only she could hear, Najin outlined the plan that lay ahead, and the story that would soon unfold.
"Oh-ho."
Yuel’s eyes curved, then thinned, then closed. When she opened them again, a radiant smile sat upon her face.
"Indeed. If it is that,"
Yuel smiled.
"it is a most satisfactory proposal. Even an unsatisfying duel with you, if I regard it as an appetizer… the flavor comes alive rather nicely. Yes. Not bad at all."
"Right?"
"Of course this is under the premise that your words are true. But the you I have observed is far removed from the sort who peddles lies or empty boasts. Yes. I will trust you."
She extended her hand. Najin shook it lightly. He had to put some strength into prying free the fingers that lingered, almost reluctantly, around the back of his hand—but that was a minor issue.
"Ah."
Yuel, already turning to leave, looked back at him.
"Still, someday—not now—I hope you will grant me a duel where our lives are truly on the line."
Sunlight caught her hair and made it gleam pure white. Brushing the shining strands aside, Yuel spoke with a smile of almost pure innocence.
"Perhaps, with you, I might be able to finish without killing."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. At present, the desire to fight you for as long as possible burns more fiercely than the desire to kill you."
Having said so, Yuel cocked her head, as if she herself did not understand what she had just uttered. As though it were an emotion she had never felt before, she blinked.
"Mm. Strange. A slip of the tongue. Forget it."
Stroking her chin, Yuel took her leave.
As always, a thoroughly self-willed human being.
3.
Some ten days passed.
Imperial scribes screamed, sang of the end times, and recorded in the annals that they had overwhelmingly shattered the record for youngest total baldness—yet no one paid them any particular mind.
Likewise, the Grey Tower, which usually sang of life’s leisure, rang with continuous funeral wails, and while memorials for fallen constellations continued…
Grey Tower Master Nayuta caused an unamusing incident of her own, ranting at a drinking party—"Dawn Star! I named that star! Who am I? The great archmage Nayuta who named the epithet of Excalibur’s owner!"—before being subdued by the Platinum Tower Master.
And then the day arrived.
When the winds of war had subsided and the continent had regained its stability, the Imperial Family made a single announcement—a piece of news capable of setting the Empire, and indeed the entire continent, abuzz.
Two of the Empire’s five pillars were dead.
Thus two seats had fallen vacant.
One of those seats had now been filled, and the one filling it was none other than Najin. Considering Najin’s identity, this was only the natural course.
Who am I?
"Youngest seven-star, youngest Sword Master, the one who shattered a thousand-year gap to claim the Free Knight’s title, selected by Excalibur, and drove off even that fearsome Knight of Betrayal Mordred—an unmatched genius of the age."
Merlin recited it without drawing a single breath. She stared at Najin with dead eyes. Najin nodded in satisfaction.
Nothing at all compared to the great archmage Merlin, of course.
"I’m sorry."
What is there to be sorry about?
"No, just… I’m sorry…"
Najin beamed. Merlin had boasted to him a total of one hundred seventy-eight times so far; he himself had managed only ninety-eight. He planned to stop after eighty more.
…Be that as it may.
The impact of Najin’s titles and records was considerable, yet he had not been chosen as an Imperial Pillar for those reasons alone.
He had thwarted the Revelry Emperor’s schemes.
He had exposed her true identity.
He had prevented Mordred from crossing onto the continent.
Had Najin failed to stop Mordred, the war would have dragged on far longer, and the continent would have become a sea of fire. Had the Revelry Emperor’s plans succeeded, the Empire might by now have been reduced to ash.
Najin had stopped every last one of those things.
In recognition of those merits—and taking into account the special nature of having drawn Excalibur—the Empire granted him a pillar’s seat… without assigning it a number.
"Who would dare assign an order to the greatest knight, the one who carries on the will of the great Arthur?"
The Emperor had smiled as he spoke those words.
"There is a seat we have left vacant, waiting for the day the one who draws Excalibur would appear."
An Imperial Pillar, and at the same time—
"The Foundation Stone."
The one who laid the groundwork for the Empire, and beyond it, for all of humanity.
The existence that made the present Empire possible.
Anticipating the day that existence would return, the Empire had left one seat empty.
"Well then, Merlin."
Najin fastened Excalibur at his waist. When he gave the hilt a light tap, starlight spilled forth and took on a human shape.
"Shall we go?"
"Haa, you really…"
Merlin jabbed an elbow hard into Najin’s side.
"Just try pulling that in front of other people."
"There’s no reason I can’t."
He had gotten as far as "Who am—" when Merlin’s face flushed bright scarlet and she clamped a hand over his mouth. This time she possessed a physical body, so she could mercifully silence him.
With a sigh, Merlin kicked him in the shin.
"Just walk already."
Najin set off.
Down the long corridor, toward the heart of the Empire.
Toward the imperial plaza where the crowds would be waiting.