Argonaut (1)
After bidding farewell to the Blue Spear, Linden Walterhorn, Najin headed straight for the second floor. As he climbed the stairs, he turned over the story the Blue Spear had told him.
In that tale, Galahad had said:
That the name given to this tower was Argo.
Argo. Najin had heard the word before. It was the name of the ship that had carried the heroes of the distant past upon their voyage. And the name for those heroes who boarded her was Argonaut.
The ship that bore the heroes—the Argonauts—Argo.
Why bestow such a name upon this tower? Why had Galahad called it an ark?
An ark that will one day cleave through the Abyss and sail onward.
That phrase held Najin’s attention.
An ark had originally meant a square vessel, but that sense had long since warped. In the old myths, an ark was never merely a boat.
An ark was a metaphor.
In a world hurtling toward ruin, on the brink of the end, a ship that selected those worth saving and carried them away. That was the meaning the myths gave the word. And so, in the present age, “ark” had come to mean a refuge prepared against annihilation—something akin to a last hope.
Argo. Argonaut. Ark.
Najin turned the three words over in his mind. He let out a long breath and stroked the hilt of Excalibur.
“I think I might understand.”
“Understand what?”
“How Guinevere means to use her sanctuary. In other words… how she intended to wield the power of oblivion…”
He had a rough idea. Even so, he set the answer aside for later. Whatever purpose this domain served, what he had to do right now remained the same.
“First, we climb.”
The task laid before him was simple and clear: ascend the tower.
Climbing toward the second floor, Najin steadied his breathing. In his judgment, the climb would be a road of pure hardship.
Physical death is meaningless here. Victory comes only when the opponent admits defeat.
And every soul imprisoned within these walls had once been a hero who defined an age. Even if their records had been scrubbed away and forgotten, it still meant that those once called heroes were gathered here.
A tower of more than a hundred floors. I have to wrest victory from more than a hundred heroes.
Najin knew full well how hard it was to drag the words “I lose” from heroes of unyielding spirit. This will not be easy. He steeled himself and stepped forward—
“I lose. Go on up.”
Blink.
The instant his foot touched the second floor—the twentieth floor—Najin’s prediction shattered.
2.
“My name is Trex, a hero of the Allied Kingdoms. Do you know of Sir Albert of the Echo? I lived in the same age as him, though I have no idea how much time has passed outside.”
The hero of the twentieth floor, Trex.
He introduced himself as a hero of the Allied Kingdoms, a man who had walked the same era as Albert.
“Sir Albert lived roughly six hundred years ago. About six hundred years have gone by, it seems.”
“Hah, six hundred years. An eternity. Still, seeing that you remember the name Albert puts my mind at ease. To think that even my wretched homeland managed to produce one proper hero!”
“You disliked the Allied Kingdoms?”
“Ah, of course. I hated them with every fiber of my being. I was called a hero, yes, but even I know I was a disgrace to the title.”
Trex spoke with a bitter smile.
“We heroes fattened the bellies of those rotten higher-ups and stood guard over their granaries. There were heroes who weren’t like that, but I wasn’t one of them. I lived a shameful life.”
“……”
“Ah, I’ve gone on too long. I never meant to block the road. I’ll step aside. Go on up.”
“No.”
Najin shook his head and sat down.
Trex’s eyes went round; then he muttered a grateful word and began to tell the story of his life. Najin listened in silence.
“If there was one single thing I liked about that damned Allied Kingdoms, it was Sir Albert! He was a true hero. Unlike me, a man truly worthy of respect. It’s a mystery how such a gem could ever have been born in that rotting kingdom…”
He had fought witches, slain dragons, and protected the Allied Kingdoms. Trex sang of Albert’s deeds with a smile.
“I admired him. There were times when, shameful as it was, I felt proud simply to sit in the same seat as a ‘hero’ like him. He was the pride of the Allied Kingdoms, and my idol.”
Perhaps that was why, Trex said with another bitter smile.
“When the order came to subjugate him, I could only stay silent. He fell in love with a witch? That Sir Albert? I thought it incomprehensible… yet when I faced him, my thoughts changed.”
“Changed how?”
“Sir Albert was still Sir Albert. A hero worthy of the name, always speaking of justice with unwavering rectitude. He was not so stained a being that I could bring myself to raise a blade against him.”
And once I knew that, what else could I do?
Trex snorted a laugh and tapped his sword hilt.
“Rather than kill my idol and my pride with my own hands, I decided to die instead. I told Sir Albert to run, then stood in the way of the Allied Kingdoms’ men and the witches. Looking back, it was pure madness.”
“And in the end…”
“Yes. Something struck me, I think, and when I came to, I was here. From the stories of the other heroes in this place, I learned that everyone who enters has been ‘erased from history.’”
Trex exhaled briefly.
“I thought it fortunate. A being like me is better off erased. Still, it seems Sir Albert achieved his purpose. Judging by the fact that you remember him.”
“…I am acquainted with his wife, and with their child as well.”
“Hahahaha! Well now, that’s wonderful. Her name was Lena, wasn’t it? Our homeland did many unforgivable things to her. I should have apologized at least once… well, I hope you’ll pass the word along, Sir.”
Najin blinked.
“You knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That I am not a forgotten existence. That I am someone who can leave this place.”
“Of course.”
Trex pointed at Najin.
“Unlike those who have been forgotten, you still shine, don’t you? The living possess a radiance unique to those who walk the present.”
“……”
“Why do you think I acknowledged defeat before we even fought? The ghosts of the past have no right to seize the ankles of one who lives in the present. That would be an unforgivable act.”
So go on up.
Before Trex who spoke those words, Najin bowed his head briefly, then raised his sword for the man to see. Beholding the radiance of Excalibur, Trex’s eyes widened in admiration.
“This… is an honor.”
“Sir Trex.”
“Ah, please don’t. I’m truly fine…”
“One bout, if you would.”
“……”
After a silence, Trex wiped at the corner of his eye.
“…You grant me an honor beyond my station.”
“It is not beyond you. Not at all.”
Taking his stance, Najin introduced himself. If one side gave a name before a duel, the other was bound to answer in kind. Trex struck a splendid pose and declared:
“I am Trex, hero of the Allied Kingdoms and once a friend of Sir Albert—the valiant Trex.”
One bout, if you would.
Blades clashed, and in a splendid duel Najin learned Trex’s sword.
Twentieth floor, cleared.
Najin had thought Trex a special exception, yet the twenty-first floor, the twenty-second, the twenty-third… until he had cleared the entire second tier and climbed into the third, the same pattern repeated itself.
And even past the thirtieth floor, little changed.
“Excalibur! So the one who drew that sword has finally appeared. Truly a matter for celebration. Well? Has the world become a bit more livable? Has the age when little children are dragged onto the battlefield finally ended?”
They asked Najin for stories of the future. To them it was the future; to him it was the present. Hearing those stories, they smiled in satisfaction.
“So my efforts weren’t in vain. Nothing turns my stomach like children prowling a battlefield! Children should run and play as children do. Laugh and chatter with their peers, and grow up under their parents’ love.”
Some said as much and opened the way.
“Descendant of the great knight, would you grant me the honor of crossing blades with you?”
“Of course.”
Others were content with a short spar and cleared the path. Even when they did not request a duel, Najin deliberately asked them for one.
“You can just pass through. Don’t waste your strength for nothing. Your time is too precious to squander here.”
“It is no waste.”
Even when they refused, Najin would not yield, and in the end they reluctantly accepted the spar.
“Truly…”
Even as they reluctantly drew their weapons, they could not hide their smiles. They found joy in being able to show the martial arts they had built to a successor. And Najin did not let those smiles end at mere pleasure.
He learned their swords, their spears, their techniques.
He showed them, right before their eyes, that he was mimicking their martial arts, and for a short while became their disciple. The arts they had left nowhere—erased and forgotten by the world—Najin willingly inscribed into his own sword.
“Ah…”
Some heroes rejoiced. Some shed tears. Some, even as they found it absurd, strove to pour everything they possessed into him. The years they had lived, Najin carved into his own stars.
By the time he had passed the third tier and set foot on the fourth—the fortieth floor—Najin had to admit it.
That his prediction had been wrong.
And that he himself had been mistaken.
“Why do we acknowledge defeat so easily? In other words, why do we open the path for you before even fighting?”
“Yes. That is what I asked.”
“What an obvious question.”
The man who sat upon the forty-first floor.
Abraham, the Pillar of the Empire who had been active four hundred years ago. He laughed as if Najin were asking something strange.
“As I said, you are a person of the present, are you not? Not a forgotten existence, and moreover one who has set foot here to bring down the Constellation of Oblivion. Am I wrong?”
“You are not.”
“Then let me ask in turn: what possible reason could we have not to clear the path for you?”
Abraham looked at Najin.
“We, you see, are already finished beings.”
He stroked his rusted armor.
“Beings of the past. Of course regrets remain. We never received a proper ending, nor met a hero’s end. And on top of that, to have our very existence forgotten by the world? Truly a sorrowful thing. That is why everyone clings so hard to climbing the tower.”
“Then why…”
“Even so, it is because we are heroes, boy.”
Abraham grinned.
He tapped his temple with a finger as he spoke.
“What makes me who I am now is not only ‘my own’ memories. How that era recorded and remembered the being called Abraham… all of it gathers together to form the me of this moment.”
Abraham continued.
“I was a Pillar of the Empire and a hero. I did not always live as a hero, but at the very least I strove to appear as one before others. That was the role of a Pillar of the Empire.”
“……”
“Not only I, but everyone gathered here will be the same. Each became a hero for their own purposes. Those purposes may be many, but the essence is similar.”
He raised a hand.
“I want to fix what is wrong with the world. There are tragedies I cannot leave alone. I do not want to pass these tragedies on to the next generation. I cannot hand this hellish world over to the children of the future as it is.”
So they took up sword, shield, and weapon.
“May tomorrow be better than today.”
Wishing that.
They threw themselves not for the present, but for the future.
“May tomorrow be more peaceful than today.”
Abraham extended a finger.
That finger pointed at Najin.
“We staked our lives and threw ourselves for the future. Even if the end we met was tragic, we did not forget that purpose. Perhaps we might have forgotten outside, but at least in this space we cannot forget.”
Paradoxical, isn’t it? That oblivion is not permitted in the Sanctuary of Oblivion. So saying, Abraham looked at Najin with a gentle smile.
“We who devoted our lives for a better tomorrow… blocking the path of a successor who lives that tomorrow? What could be more contradictory and ridiculous than that?”
Even if there is such a thing, it would be to teach you something, not to stop you.
“……”
Hearing that, Najin fell silent.
“Descendant of the greatest knight, and the child who sits in the foundation the Empire prepared.”
With the eyes of an adult looking at a child, a grandfather looking at his grandson, he regarded Najin.
“How is the Empire now? Has it become a little more livable?”
Abraham smiled bitterly.
“To my shame, I was not strong enough to lead my era. I tried, but the Empire was still chaotic within and without. I wonder if what I accomplished was of any help.”
“…You said you were a Pillar from four hundred years ago?”
“Yes. Calculating by the Imperial calendar you mentioned, it would be about that long.”
Abraham’s story was not recorded in the history outside. But calculating the tale and the era he spoke of, Najin opened his mouth with a smile.
“Not long after you died, a hero was born in the Empire.”
Najin told him the history of the Empire. He spoke of a certain hero who appeared in the era after Abraham—a knight who wore a golden-horned helmet.
The wars ended, the chaos subsided, and the Empire regained peace. That peace has continued for three hundred years since, through Gerd and down to Najin’s own generation, he said.
Finishing the story, Najin smiled.
“Yes. It is livable.”
Najin pointed to his coat.
“And since I have taken a seat as a Pillar, it will become a little more livable still. I am rather capable—more than you might think.”
“Yes, having drawn Excalibur, that capability goes without saying.”
Abraham laughed aloud.
“So that’s how it is? Those friends I saw back then must be the Golden Horn Knights you spoke of…”
As he mulled over the story Najin had told, Najin rose from his seat.
“Foundation of the Empire, Pillar of Dawn—Najin.”
Najin gave his name. Abraham blinked, then snorted a laugh and rose as well.
“First Pillar of the Empire, Pillar of Tomorrow—Abraham.”
One bout, if you would.