Hunter, or Prey (1)
"Congratulations on your promotion."
Najin accepted the certificate and nameplate from the supervisor of the promotion exam. The nameplate that had been pitch-black until only a few months ago now shone a vivid red.
Looking closely, even the material seems different.
Unlike the green-rank nameplates, the red-rank ones differed in both material and form. As Najin turned the plate over in his fingers, the supervisor continued his explanation.
"Becoming a red-rank adventurer means your renown is no longer confined to Cambria alone. Present this nameplate beyond the city walls, and you will receive treatment befitting it."
Above red stood only five white-rank adventurers in the entire city. Reaching red, then, was as good as claiming a place among the absolute elite—and of course, the elite enjoyed privileges to match.
"As for the privileges you may now enjoy…"
The supervisor's explanation stretched on for some time. Only after hearing everything—from the new privileges to the detailed categories of commissions now open to him—did Najin finally step out of the Central Guild.
The moment he left the building, the gazes of the adventurers clustered in front converged on him. More precisely, on the red nameplate gleaming at his chest. Catching the sunlight that flashed off the metal, the adventurers clicked their tongues.
Barely four or five months since he had first set foot in the city.
That Najin had climbed to red in so short a span filled them with equal parts astonishment and awe.
What was a red rank, after all? It was the grade countless adventurers dreamed of the moment they entered this city, a living emblem of success. Considering how many languished at green for a decade or more, rising to red in a mere five months was nothing short of extraordinary. When something astonishing happens, some will admire and others will envy.
Yet almost no one felt envy toward Najin. Jealousy of a genius only exhausts the one who feels it, and the rumors already circulating through the streets had already proven his worth.
He had beaten down five knights of a ducal house.
Faced four of them at once, even.
Clashed with the ducal knight-commander and walked away alive…
Whether every rumor was true remained unknown, but no one could deny that Najin stood at the very pinnacle of Sword Experts.
"If the rumors are true…"
"Won't he hit white-rank before long?"
"You think becoming a Sword Seeker is that easy? You have to awaken a mindscape first, and even then…"
"Still—five Sword Experts at once…"
"Four."
"Four or five, same difference."
The adventurers muttered among themselves. Letting their voices wash past him, Najin walked on. He had no intention of accepting a commission right away, but there was still work to do.
Black, green, or red—no matter what color dyed his nameplate, Najin's daily routine never changed. Back at his lodgings, he sat cross-legged on the floor and closed his eyes.
Training. Once again, it was time to train.
After the incident involving Dieta had been settled, a new process had been added to Najin's training: the refinement of his mindscape. Sitting cross-legged, closing both eyes, and turning his focus inward.
Mindscape training practiced by warriors who have reached a certain realm is ordinarily static and dull—little more than gazing into one's own depths while regulating the breath.
But in Najin's case…
"Hey. Have you thought about trying to manifest a lake?"
"What are you talking about now?"
"You saw it last time, right? My star domain is a lake. A beautifully blue lake."
The mindscape training was far from static.
One constellation already resided within it. The moment he closed his eyes and concentrated, the girl with flowing water-colored hair appeared before the scenery of the underground city ever took shape.
Merlin, Mage of the Lake.
She sat perched on the low wall, swinging her legs, and let out a long sigh.
"Living by a lakeside for over a thousand years makes you miss the water a bit. Soaking my feet used to be my hobby. A little splashing always calmed me down."
"So you want me to make a lake?"
"Yeah. Think you can?"
Merlin nodded vigorously. She would never have asked when the mindscape was still empty blackness, but now that it had begun to take form she decided a little greed was allowed.
"A little lakeside about this big should be fine, right?"
She spread her arms wide and drew a circle in the air. Strictly speaking it was closer to the size of a basin or a well than any real lake. Najin wondered for a moment what she was on about, then decided it might simply be part of the training.
A mindscape was the manifestation of imagination, after all. The act of bringing something into being would itself become practice—even if that something was a lakeside.
Merlin must have her reasons. With that thought, Najin closed his eyes and concentrated. He had not seen many lakes. None existed in the underground city; he had glimpsed them only once or twice from a carriage window.
The one I can recall best is…
The lake he had first seen when he met Merlin. Quietly, he called that deep-blue water to mind.
"Ohhh!"
Applause burst out beside him. When Najin opened his eyes, Merlin was clapping and pointing eagerly in front of her. There, a truly tiny lake—no larger than a washbasin—had formed.
"You actually made it?"
Delighted to see water again after so long, Merlin beamed with pure pride. She clumsily tugged off her shoes and socks and carefully stretched a bare toe toward the surface.
The instant her foot touched it, the lake vanished with a soft pffft. The toes she had extended with such expectation only tapped the dirt floor of the underground city.
"…"
Merlin whipped her head around to glare at him. She must have been truly looking forward to it; her face crumpled into a pout as she stamped the dirt in frustration.
"Maintaining it isn't easy."
"Well, of course… you haven't seen many lakes either…"
She said the words, but disappointment was written all over her. Watching Merlin heave sigh after sigh, Najin gave a wry smile.
"Anyway."
He moved on to the real subject. Ever since awakening his mindscape, Najin had often spoken with Merlin face-to-face like this. It helped refine the mindscape, and it was simply more comfortable than talking by voice alone.
He drew three crude pictures in the dirt at his feet.
"I became a red-rank adventurer this time, right?"
"Yeah. Faster than I expected, but by now it almost feels natural."
"At red rank the commissions open up a lot. Most of all, I can accept designated commissions now."
Three pictures on the dirt. Plenty of people had taken an interest in the newly minted red-rank, and several had already placed designated commissions for him.
"In order: bandit subjugation, escort duty…"
He pointed to the first two, then tapped the last.
"Search and subjugation of a black mage."
"You should definitely take the last one."
"I thought as much."
Without a second's hesitation Merlin pointed at the third sketch. Search and subjugation of a black mage. The details would come once he accepted, but Najin had already planned to take the third commission if at all possible.
"I've never fought a mage before."
"Right. Best to get the experience now. You'll be sick of fighting them later anyway."
"Mages?"
"Yeah. Black mages are the baseline, and demons are basically the same lineage… so there are a ridiculous number of mages who've contracted with demons."
Merlin sighed.
"Mages will sell their souls to a demon if it means gaining knowledge. Especially these days—half of them are locked in towers doing nothing but research, and their heads have gone completely soft."
"…Aren't you a mage too, Merlin?"
"Look at this kid. Mages in my era were different. Research locked in towers? We hid in forests, researched, and spent every morning and evening greeting invaders."
Anyway—
She brushed her light-blue hair back and continued.
"Even setting the Witch of the Abyss aside as an exception, you'll be running into demons and black mages constantly."
"So I should get the experience now?"
"Exactly. Especially with magic—experience and knowledge matter more than anything. How do I put this…"
She searched for the right words, then snapped her fingers.
"If you don't know, you get hit."
"…What?"
"That's the basics of magical combat. Don't know the counter? Then you take the hit. It applies to swordsmanship too, of course, but it's especially brutal with magic."
"That's… bad news."
Najin clicked his tongue. He knew absolutely nothing about magic. He had lived his entire life with a wall between himself and the arcane. As he sighed, Merlin jabbed him in the ribs with an incredulous look.
"What are you worried about?"
"Huh?"
"Have you forgotten who's sitting right next to you?"
Merlin's expression turned supremely confident.
"The first in history to reach the realm of ten rings—the Great Mage of the Ten Rings. The Great Sage who first defined Mystery for humanity. A constellation bearing eleven stars."
The one who had mastered every magic that existed in the world.
She crossed her arms and smiled.
"I guarantee it: as long as I'm here, you'll never get hit because you didn't know. It's like walking around with a strategy guide written exclusively for fighting mages."
"That does sound right."
"Right?"
Najin drew a firm circle around the third picture.
Search and subjugation of a black mage.
In that moment, the first commission he would take as a red-rank adventurer was decided.
Deep in the forest stood a solitary cabin.
The man inside scratched at the nape of his neck. Even as the skin peeled and blood welled, he did not stop, as though the brand carved into his flesh itched beyond endurance.
"My neck was itching, so I figured…"
He let out a long breath.
"What brings a distinguished guest all the way out here?"
The visitor who had come to the cabin. The man sighed as he greeted him. The urge to put an arrow through that irritating face rose sharp and immediate, but he forced it down.
Doing so would solve nothing.
"I wish to entrust a commission."
The guest settled onto a chair without removing his robe. The moment he began to speak of the task, the man's expression hardened.
"Just because you've got one weakness on me, don't go ordering people around however you like. Don't test my patience."
"It is an important commission. This will most likely be the last."
"The last, is it. Sweet words."
The man chuckled darkly.
"If this turns out not to be the last, remember that your breathing will be the last as well."
"I'll remember."
"Let's hear it, then. What is the commission?"
"A simple one."
"I'll be the judge of that. Just explain. Simply."
"I want you to kill one person."
The guest set a portrait on the table. The man picked it up and frowned.
"You want me to kill this one?"
"Yes. As quietly and cleanly as possible."
"Quietly might be difficult. From what I recall, this fellow… is rather famous in the city, isn't he?"
He tapped the face in the portrait with one finger. He knew the man well enough. Lately the whole of Cambria had been buzzing about him—the one who had climbed to red rank in so short a time.
The adventurer Ivan.
Still tapping the portrait, the man asked with open disbelief.
"The reason?"
"I cannot tell you."
"Well, no reason to tell a hunting dog, I suppose."
A self-mocking smile twisted his mouth. He gripped the portrait and rose from his seat—acceptance of the commission.
"I hope that 'this is the last' isn't a lie. Being dragged around at my age isn't something I care for."
"Yes. Not only you, but your—"
"Don't say another word."
Light barely reached inside the cabin. The man's face remained lost in shadow, yet his eyes gleamed in the dark like a beast's—chilling, ready at any moment to leap and tear out a throat.
"I understand, so."
"…Understood."
The man began gathering the weapons hanging on the wall: throwing daggers, hunting traps, vials of every drug imaginable, a machete painted matte black…
And a great bow, together with a giant crossbow.
Weapons no ordinary human strength could draw—tools meant only for warriors who approached the superhuman. Thick bowstrings and dedicated bolts that rivaled ordinary longswords in length. Having collected them all, he pulled his poncho low over his face.
"You intend to begin at once?"
"No harm in being quick."
Looking at him, the guest spoke once more.
"I'll trust you, Kaufman Teosis."
One of the city's only five white-rank adventurers.
Former ranger of the Techel Mountains.
Hawk's Eye, Kaufman Teosis, gave the guest no answer at all.