A Midday Date (3)

Their gazes met at a distance close enough for their breaths to mingle.

With his collar still clenched in her fist, Najin looked into Dieta's eyes. Those glittering golden irises—sometimes called the Golden Eyes of House Arvenia, or the Gold-Coin Eyes.

In them, he saw his own reflection.

Bloodshot whites, faint shadows under the lids. It was the face he had worn so often back in the underground city. Najin swallowed hard.

Tak.

Dieta released his collar and stepped back. Najin stayed silent for a long while. Had he really been walking around looking like that ever since the encounter with Kaufman?

Merlin.

-Yeah.

Have I been walking around looking like some kind of ghost?

-It's actually better now, if you ask me.

Merlin let out a sigh.

-You were roaming around with a face that said you were ready to tear someone apart. Why do you think every adventurer took a step back the second you got close?

Najin fell quiet.

It was an old habit. A habit etched into his body from the days he had lived as a hunting dog in the underground city. Whenever a mistake or a moment of carelessness had nearly cost him his life, he had always moved "like this."

It did help, sure…

But Ivan had never liked it.

Every time he saw Najin stalking about with eyes wide and body wound tight as a spring, Ivan would click his tongue.

Whenever that happened, Ivan would sling an arm around Najin's neck and ruffle his hair. He'd thump the boy's rigid shoulders and threaten to kill him if he didn't ease up.

Once Najin finally let the tension go, Ivan would throw an arm over his shoulders and drag him to the tavern. He'd seat the underage boy beside him, spout nonsense, and mess up his hair.

Because of times like those…

Najin had feared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ivan, but he had never hated him. Remembering those days now, he fell silent again.

"……"

Those were times he could never return to.

The man who used to smack his shoulders whenever they tensed up, forcing him to relax—Ivan was gone. The boy who had left the underground city had to become an adult. An adult who looked after himself without anyone's help.

"Hoo……"

Najin exhaled, long and slow.

Yes, this was a situation that demanded vigilance. Yes, he could not afford to slack on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠training. Assassins could come from anywhere, and his life was under real threat.

But… he also had to admit that this kind of constant guard wouldn't help much either.

It's not like doing this is going to make me a Sword Seeker.

As he breathed out, Najin released the tension from his shoulders and eyes. Fatigue rushed in the moment the strain left him; his shoulders ached. Working the knots out of muscles that had been locked for days, he glanced at Dieta.

She had turned her head and was fanning her face with her own palm, looking overheated even though a chilly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠breeze drifted through the open window. Najin spoke her name.

"Dieta."

"Y-yes?"

The aggressive energy from when she had seized his collar had vanished completely. Watching her eyes dart, Najin gave a bitter little smile.

"We're friends, right?"

"…We promised on the carriage, didn't we? That we'd be friends from now on."

"We did. Which means you're my only friend…"

Only. As in, the one and only. Dieta's eyes lit up at the word, and Najin continued. Friends were people you could open up to, weren't they?

"Would you listen to a friend's worries?"

"Of course. Come over here and sit."

The trading company's building was still bare of furniture, bleak and empty. They settled into a corner.

"So what's the worry?"

"Before I get into it… just listening might put you in danger. My background is a little complicated. Are you still all right with that?"

"…How dangerous?"

"Dangerous enough that a Sword Seeker might try to assassinate you."

"Whoa."

Dieta let out a short whistle of admiration.

"That's not nothing. Did you commit some kind of crime?"

"I was born a criminal, in a way."

"What, the illegitimate child of a traitor? Or the direct descendant of a rebel?"

"I don't think my parents were anyone that impressive. But they seem to have done something that put them on the Church's bad side."

"So the Church is your enemy."

Dieta stroked her chin, humming thoughtfully as she closed her eyes. A few seconds passed. When she opened them again, she gave him a sidelong look.

"We're friends, right?"

"…You just said we were."

"Then you're my first friend. And I don't want to put distance between myself and the first friend I ever made. It's not going to be easy, but I'll take the risk."

So, she said,

"Tell me. What's going on."

Najin looked at her.

There was no wavering in her eyes.

…Of course, there was no guarantee she was truly an ally. They had a good relationship, but he couldn't be certain she would still stand with him once she knew everything. They simply hadn't spent enough time together to build that kind of bond.

But…

Even if the time had been short, it had been enough to understand the kind of person Dieta was. And she had called him a friend. He wanted to believe that word. He wanted to believe it was sincerity, not deception or a lie.

So this was, in a way, a gamble.

"Do you know of a place called the underground city of Atman?"

For the first time, Najin spoke the name of his birthplace in front of another person.

2.

Leaving out everything related to Excalibur, Najin laid his situation bare before Dieta. If he told her about the sword as well, the danger she would have to shoulder would far exceed a mere Sword Seeker.

He talked for a long while.

Dieta listened in silence the entire time.

"…And that's how I ended up here."

When he finished, Najin looked at her.

Her expression had not changed in the slightest from before he began. Tense, he waited for her to speak.

"I figured your background wasn't ordinary, but it's even more complicated than I imagined. I never saw this coming."

Dieta murmured as if mildly surprised.

"Still, if I think of you as someone from the underground city, a lot of things suddenly make sense. That slightly detached feeling you give off, the fact that you have no proper identity records…"

She nodded firmly, as if she had just convinced herself of something. Looking almost refreshed, as though an old curiosity had finally been satisfied, she even seemed relieved.

The reaction left Najin bewildered.

"…That's all?"

"Huh?"

"I thought there might be a little more of a… different reaction…"

Shock. Distance. A frown at the mention of the underground city. At the very least, he had expected her gaze toward him to change. None of that happened.

Dieta was still looking at him with exactly the same eyes as before.

"Don't tell me."

She tilted her head with a mischievous smile.

"You actually thought I'd be scared of you, or look down on you for being from the underground city?"

"……"

"Wow, the silence says it all. I'm a little disappointed you saw me that way."

Dieta furrowed her brow.

"What does origin matter? What does a complicated background matter? Whatever your past is, the fact that you saved me doesn't change."

"That's…"

"You made a promise, so of course you keep it. That's what you'd say, right? I know. That's the kind of person you are."

She covered her mouth and chuckled.

"You treat the unreasonable as if it's only natural, and you dive into things that make no sense without weighing the cost. That's you."

And yet, she shot him a pointed look,

"You never expect the same from anyone else. Just because you act that way, you never assume other people will treat you the same. It's admirable that you do things without expecting anything in return, but…"

She scooted a handspan closer.

"You can expect it from a friend, can't you? You need at least one person who shows you the 'unreasonable reaction as if it's only natural.' That way you'll finally understand how strange and startling the things you've been doing actually are."

How do you feel right now?

Dieta poked his side as she asked.

"Strange, right? Startling, right?"

"…Honestly, yes. It is."

"You have no idea how shocked I was that day. That's what this is. The story you told me is definitely surprising, but it's not a reason to put distance between us. And it's certainly not a reason to despise you."

Najin stayed silent.

Dieta smiled.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"……"

"What? Are you moved? Do you suddenly find me precious or something? I'm kidding. Why so serious…"

"Yes."

"…What?"

"I said that's how I feel."

Dieta's face turned bright red.

Najin smiled as he looked at her.

"Being friends… it really is nice. Getting it all off my chest feels a lot lighter."

"Uh, uhh…"

"Thank you. For saying that."

While Dieta, blindsided, stammered in a state of brain freeze, Najin let the last of the tension leave his body. Ever since escaping the underground city, he had kept himself wound tight.

The fact that he had been chosen by Excalibur.

The fact that he carried the lives of Ivan and Oppen on his shoulders.

Those things had never allowed him to relax. But at least in this moment, it was different. His expression softened, and even his voice and speech shifted a little.

"Talking about it has given me a headache. Instead of waiting to get ambushed, maybe I should just charge in first? That doesn't sound half bad."

"Excuse me…? Najin, you do know the Holy Light Church has a Lighthouse Keeper, right? A Master-class powerhouse?"

"I'm joking. If I charged in now, my head would be sitting on a pike looking very pretty. I'm not that stupid."

Watching him shrug, Dieta blinked. A joke? A joke? She had never heard Najin talk like this before.

The lighter tone. The loosened face.

It was a far cry from the stiff, expressionless answers he usually gave. And yet this was closer to his true nature and way of speaking. He had talked like this even back in the underground city.

He had simply been correcting himself, believing it was not the proper speech or demeanor for a knight. After a moment of surprise at the change, Dieta spoke.

"Anyway, I heard you out."

She said,

"Now we need a plan, right?"

On a point Najin had never expected at all.

3.

"I've already thought of a few things."

"At the very least, ways to keep you safe from assassination while you're inside Cambria… I'll organize them and tell you on the way back."

"Right now we're on a short vacation. Let's just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rest easy while we're in Camelot and head back afterward. Sound good?"

Turning Dieta's words over in his mind, Najin walked the streets of Camelot. She had business with the trading company and said they would meet again in the evening, so he needed to kill time until then.

So for now he was wandering without destination.

Everything was unfamiliar. The clothes of the people thronging the streets were nothing like those in Cambria, and every shop he passed was one he had never seen before. Being the imperial capital, everything glittered no matter where he looked.

The most amazing things are still those, though.

Najin lifted his head.

The magic towers soaring into the sky filled his vision. Even standing far away, the towers that could be seen from anywhere in the empire carried a presence that was truly impressive.

And something that matched—or even surpassed—that presence.

He glanced at the five towers encircling the imperial palace. Towers granted to the Five Pillars that supported the empire, each symbolizing one of those pillars. He had heard that Sword Master Gerd resided in one of them.

The empire's Sword Master.

The First Horn of the Empire.

The old man who was both the empire's first pillar and the Emperor's Sword. Even though Sword Seekers and above could ignore aging and maintain their peak physical condition, he still moved with the body of an old man—an unusual figure.

What kind of man was he, and what kind of sword did he wield?

Curiosity stirred for a moment, but Najin soon shook his head. He had crossed paths with two Sword Masters by pure chance, but those were not beings one normally met so easily.

Leaving it as mere curiosity, he continued walking. Before he realized it, he found himself standing in front of a blacksmith's shop.

-Of all the mountains of things there are to see in this city, how do you zero in on a blacksmith like a bloodhound? You came all the way here and you still need to look at a forge…?

Merlin's groaning voice echoed in his ear.

But what was he supposed to do when he had already found it?

He had heard the sound of a hammer striking a blade from far away and simply followed it. As he stood examining the swords on display, he felt a gaze on him.

"……"

He turned his head slightly. A girl sitting in front of the forge was glaring at him. She wore a sword at her waist and light armor.

And on that armor…

was a crest he knew well.

Two swords crossed over a shield—the emblem of the Knights of Atanga. Now that he thought about it, he had seen this girl somewhere before. After the battle with the Demon Knight Bernhaigen, when he had encountered the knights of Atanga?

Ting-a-ling.

At that moment the bell on the blacksmith's door chimed, and a knight stepped out through the open doorway. The knight emerging from the forge locked eyes with Najin.

"Well now, if it isn't you?"

Argo of Atanga.

The knight he had met during the Demon Knight subjugation recognized him and his eyes went wide.