The Gold-Swallowing Snake (1)
The Sword Fiend of the Abyss could only be cut by Excalibur.
Najin turned Merlin’s words over in his mind and asked,
“Is he some kind of demon or something? You said demons can only be completely finished off with Excalibur.”
—That isn’t what I meant. The Sword Fiend of the Abyss has no immortality, no demonic traits of any kind. The reason I said you need Excalibur is…
Merlin added,
—Because that bastard is holding a holy sword as well.
“A holy sword…?”
—Gram. The blade that becomes a holy sword or a demonic sword depending on its wielder. The only thing that can clash with the sword he’s carrying and still endure is Excalibur.
In short, he needed a weapon that could withstand it. Yet Najin could not quite grasp the point. If ordinary swords would not work, there were still magic, arrows—plenty of other methods. Was there really a need to face him with a sword at all?
—That’s something you can only say because you don’t know the man.
Having read Najin’s thoughts, Merlin smiled bitterly.
The Sword Fiend of the Abyss was a being who defied common sense. He had stood shoulder to shoulder with Arthur, and though he had never been a Knight of the Round Table, he had walked the journey with her all the way to its end.
The final destination reached by the first Sword Saint at the close of that journey.
Recalling that destination, Merlin let out a long sigh. It was not a memory she wished to revisit. After exhaling deeply, she shifted the mood. Her voice returned to its usual cadence as she changed the subject.
—You don’t need to know about the Sword Fiend of the Abyss right now. It’s a problem you can forget for the time being. You’ll meet him later—much later.
That aside.
Muttering as much, Merlin smiled.
—Looks like you’ve finally found a proper swordsmanship master. No more need to go hunting for teachers. You can learn the sword from the Sword Saint and magic from me.
Najin had been about to nod when he tilted his head. A certain word had caught him.
“…Magic?”
—Yeah. Magic.
“I can use magic too?”
—Why wouldn’t you be able to?
“Isn’t it common knowledge that swordsmen can’t use magic…?”
—That’s just the talk of ordinary folk.
Merlin grinned.
—Besides, a minimum of magic is simply culture. No harm in learning it, right? Knowing it makes dealing with mages a lot easier.
How to deal with mages, huh.
True enough, he had never faced a mage before. Najin rubbed his chin and let out a long breath.
“A long road still ahead.”
—Look at this kid. You do realize it’s only been two or three months since you pulled Excalibur, right?
Letting Merlin’s incredulous voice wash past him, Najin gave a short laugh. The Sword Saint and Volkman had long since left. Alone now, Najin stretched out flat on the open field.
“You’re right about that.”
At most two or three months since leaving the underground city.
Thinking back on everything that had happened in those months, Najin gazed up at the sky. The rain had stopped; the dark clouds had parted to reveal a clear blue expanse. Only yesterday, it seemed, he had been thrashing desperately just to catch a single glimpse of that sky…
Now that blue sky felt familiar.
The sun hanging high, the starlight of the night sky—all of it had become ordinary to him.
He had forged a friendship with the city’s great merchant, left a strong impression on the city’s top adventurer, toppled a demonic knight and forged a connection with the Knights of Atanga. And now he would learn swordsmanship from the Sword Saint himself.
“Time really does fly.”
Things he could never have imagined while living in the underground city kept happening without rest. Everything was so new he had thought adapting would take forever, yet whenever he came back to himself he found he had already grown used to it.
—Is it only time that flies?
—Your growth rate is ridiculously fast too.
Merlin’s laughing voice, half in disbelief.
Letting the now-familiar sound drift past, Najin rose to his feet. The Sword Saint might have swept through like a storm, but there was still time left before the day ended.
Time to head back and look for a new commission.
With a light step, Najin set off toward Cambria, the City of Opportunity.
2.
The day after his spar with the Sword Saint, at noon.
Najin stood in the plaza waiting for someone. He had an appointment. As he waited beneath the clock tower, quite a few gazes gathered on him.
It was only natural.
From the merits he had earned in the Dochenberg Forest subjugation, to his promotion as a heretic, to claiming the starring role in the demonic knight hunt—Najin had become someone it would be strange not to notice.
The most talked-about adventurer in Cambria.
The super-rookie every merchant and mid-sized guild had marked as their number-one recruitment target, whose stock had soared so high it had punched clean through the charts.
That was Najin’s present standing in the City of Opportunity. Standing in the middle of the plaza, of course he drew eyes. Yet while people stole glances, no one approached him lightly.
…Because everyone knew who had already staked her claim.
Just then Najin turned his head toward one corner of the plaza. Those watching him followed his gaze. There, accompanied by a single escort knight, a girl stepped into the square.
The Gold-Swallowing Snake, Dieta Arvenia.
Her light-brown hair flowed like silk, gleaming with health, and the golden eyes that peeked between slender lashes held a strange, magnetic pull. Even among the throng of noble daughters at a ball, Dieta’s looks had always stood out; being cast out of the Arvenia Ducal House had done nothing to dim them. If anything, walking with her shoulders squared and her head high only made her beauty shine brighter.
Her attire, however, was different from usual.
Neither the Dieta Merchant Group uniform nor the lavish dress of a noble young lady, but a simple, comfortable one-piece. With only a shawl around her shoulders and a parasol against the sun, she looked utterly unfamiliar to the adventurers of Cambria.
The outfit of someone going to meet a close friend.
Dieta came to a stop right in front of Najin beneath the clock tower.
“Am I a little late?”
“I haven’t been waiting long either.”
The merchants watching clicked their tongues.
Marking her territory for all to see, was she? Dressing like this and meeting the adventurer Ivan privately—her actions were bound to be read as a clear declaration of how close they were.
To the escort knight Pasion, however, it looked different.
Having attended Dieta longer and closer than anyone, Pasion could see that the smile she wore now was no mere performance. There might be an element of showing off their friendship…
“Shall we go, then?”
…but right now his master was smiling easily.
A little of the tension had left her body; it was not simple acting—she actually looked happy.
More than anything…
Pasion clearly remembered how, after scowling through early-morning correspondence with clients, her face had lit up the moment it was time to meet Ivan. A thoroughly unfamiliar expression on his master.
What on earth happened during that last joint commission…?
He had heard the rumor that she had thoroughly crushed a certain noble, but clearly there had been more exchange than that.
Pasion shot Najin a sidelong glare and clicked his tongue. Dieta paid him no mind, humming under her breath as she strolled through the plaza with Najin. Seeing his master so pleased, Pasion soon looked away.
It was truly rare for Dieta to smile with such ease.
After the meal, Dieta sipped her tea and happened to glance across the table. There sat Najin, sipping coffee with a puzzled tilt of his head.
The face of a man who could not understand why anyone would drink something so bitter.
Dieta let a faint smile slip. Hadn’t he been the same last time? Propping her chin on her hand, she asked,
“Shall I order you something sweet instead?”
“I’m fine. It’s growing on me the more I drink.”
“You didn’t have to order the same thing just to match me.”
“I was just curious.”
Najin set his cup down.
“I wanted to know why people drink this. Someone I know used to live with coffee in his mouth.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah… In a place where luxury goods like this were hard to come by, I never understood what he saw in gulping down something so bitter. So I’m trying it out of pure curiosity.”
He said it while absently nibbling at the sweets they had ordered together. Listening, Dieta idly turned her own cup. She had already been somewhat interested in the man before her, but that interest had been the interest of the Gold-Swallowing Snake.
A man who looked like he would turn a profit. An adventurer worth befriending because he would benefit the merchant group later.
In eyes that converted all things into gold, Najin had been an unmined vein. A mother lode that would pour out gold if you just took a pickaxe and struck a few times. That was why she had taken an interest as a merchant…
“I heard you took down a demonic knight this time. Could you tell me a little about that? I’m curious.”
…but after the last joint commission.
After the day she had faced him with her mask off, Dieta had become interested in Najin himself.
His personality. His habits. His quirks. The way he carried himself.
She simply wanted to know a little more about the man in front of her. Whether that desire belonged to the merchant or simply to Dieta the person, she could no longer tell.
“You mean why I didn’t wait for the Knights of Atanga? Nothing special. I just didn’t like it.”
“Didn’t like it?”
“What the demonic knight—Bernhaigen—had to say about knighthood…”
Listening to Najin’s story, Dieta nodded, sometimes smiling. She was beginning to get a rough sense of how the man thought and how he acted.
Same as last time…
He was remarkably impulsive.
Sometimes he seemed to have no plan at all; other times he simply charged in first and thought later. The important thing was his conviction; the aftermath could be cleaned up afterward.
The demonic knight subjugation had been the same.
Waiting for the Knights of Atanga and coordinating an assault would have given far better odds, yet he had gone in alone. Had he been after the glory? When asked, his answer had simply been: he didn’t like it.
Watching someone charge in for such an emotional reason could feel refreshing—or foolish. Either way, it was something Dieta herself could never do.
“Ah.”
Listening to him, Dieta smiled. And while smiling, a sudden curiosity rose. What was the goal of the man before her? After turning her cup for a moment, she spoke.
“Hey.”
“Yes?”
“What’s your goal?”
“To carve stars.”
Najin answered without the slightest hesitation. To carve stars into the sky—that was his goal. The instant reply left Dieta briefly speechless.
“Stars…?”
“The stars that constellations possess. Carving stars into that sky is my goal.”
It was not a goal one could casually speak of in front of others.
Far too grand, far too absurd.
What did it mean to possess a star? It meant walking the path of becoming a constellation by achieving great deeds. It was a fantasy closer to the daydreams children mouthed.
“…Are you serious?”
“Yes. No reason to lie about something like this.”
Yet the man before her meant every word. As if he cared nothing for what others thought of him. And he added one more thing.
“Besides… I made a promise.”
As he spoke those words, Najin wore a bitter smile. A smile that seemed heavy with stories. While Dieta was still looking at that smile,
“Then what’s your goal?”
The same question came back to her.
Dieta answered while sipping her coffee. Her own goal was simple enough.
“Collecting gold coins. Growing the merchant group, gathering more gold. That’s my goal.”
“Isn’t gold just a means?”
“Sharp, aren’t you.”
Dieta set her cup down.
Through narrowed eyes she regarded the coffee grounds stuck to the bottom of the cup. Yes, the man was right. Gold was only a means; it could never be an end in itself.
Then what was her true purpose?
Dieta turned her own name over in her mind. Dieta Arvenia. The Arvenia Ducal House. Recalling the cold mansion where she had spent her childhood, she opened her mouth.
“Because that’s how I raise my own worth.”
Swordsmen swung their blades, climbed ranks, and increased their value. Sword Expert, Sword Seeker… treatment and status changed with every realm.
Not only swordsmen.
Mages, rangers, knights—all the same.
They tempered themselves and gained worth. They proved their value through personal martial power, a method that was extremely intuitive. But not everyone was born with martial talent. Then how did the rest prove their worth?
For some it was politics.
For some it was knowledge.
For others it was the power they had amassed.
And Dieta knew. There was a value far more precise than those ambiguous things. Something that, after martial power, was the next most intuitive measure of worth.
“Gold coins. Money. Wealth. Assets. How intuitive a value is that? The more of it you hold, the higher a person’s worth rises.”
The starting point of every value.
Whether you wanted to do politics, accumulate knowledge, or seize power, money was indispensable. Scatter a handful of gold coins and the rest would follow of its own accord.
That was why Dieta swallowed gold.
She swallowed and swallowed, inflating her own worth. She inflated it again and again until she became someone no one could ignore. That was the purpose by which the Gold-Swallowing Snake lived.
“To me, gold coins are value. Just as you carve stars to raise your worth… for me, gold is simply the star.”
Raising one’s worth.
A plausible purpose in life. Yet as he listened, Najin’s eyes narrowed. It felt as though Dieta still had something beyond that.
Gathering gold.
Raising her worth.
Both felt like mere means. He did not ask what the ultimate purpose was. She did not seem to want any further questions. It was probably tied to something she would not allow touched.
“Well. That’s just how it is.”
Dieta shrugged and let out a long breath.
But before she exhaled, Najin saw it. The venom that had laced her eyes and her breath while she spoke of her goal.
The venom that people who had crawled up from the bottom always carried.
Dieta carried that venom as well. What exactly that venom was, Najin had no way of knowing.
3.
“See you next time, then.”
As the sun set, Dieta gave Najin a warm little wave and walked away. Pasion, who had been keeping a respectful distance, fell into step beside her.
“You seem rather fond of that young man.”
“Of course. Listening to him talk is so entertaining. It’s like watching the protagonist of a novel.”
Dieta laughed.
“If something rubs him the wrong way, he just goes for it. Boldly aims for first place. If he doesn’t like something, he charges in without thinking twice. Refreshing. Romantic, even.”
As she walked she let out a sigh.
“I thought we had something in common, but the only similarity is probably our childhoods. He’s the complete opposite of me.”
Someone who resembled her yet was entirely different.
Their childhoods might have been similar, but the way they lived was nothing like her own. Listening to Najin’s stories, Dieta felt an emotion she could not quite name.
Someone who lived in a completely different world from hers.
Whether what she felt toward such a person was admiration, envy, or simple curiosity, she could not tell. But the long-dormant stirring of feeling was not unpleasant. At least when she was with that man… she could be simply Dieta, not Dieta Arvenia.
Someone who knew her bare face.
Conversation with such a person was enjoyable.
Returning to her office with a slightly lighter step, Dieta found herself face to face with a secretary who was sweating coldly. With a trembling gaze the secretary held out a letter. The stationery, embossed with an elaborate crest, looked expensive even at a glance.
“….”
The moment she took the letter, the smile vanished from Dieta’s face. The mask that had loosened while talking with Najin snapped shut with a soft click and sealed itself over her features. Her eyes turned infinitely cold.
The Arvenia Ducal House.
It was a letter from the family she had fled.