Hand. It. Over.

You have to bet big when you place a bet.

Having served in the Foreign Ministry for well over a decade, Vir had pieced together Lily's temperament from the dossiers he'd compiled and a few short minutes of observation.

'She demands fair compensation — that much is certain. But no matter how much we offer, the impossible is simply impossible.'

She had no great greed for wealth, but neither did she subscribe to some philosophy of owning nothing. No matter how extravagant a price they paid right here and now, she would never accept demands like serving the kingdom as its exclusive knight for eternity, or entering into a marriage.

'But if it's merely a matter of "helping out" with something?'

If she lent the kingdom a hand just once, that would be more than enough to set the blade called Lily in motion — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even at the cost of handing over the kingdom's treasure, the Red Guide.

"...You're offering me a Masterpiece?"

"Yes."

Unlike during the Second Prince's audience, Lily's attitude genuinely shifted, as though she were giving it a moment's thought. Morally speaking, and in terms of compensation, there was nothing wrong with it at all.

Vir drove the wedge home, as it were.

"Of course, we would never demand anything that would bring you harm or push you beyond your limits. This matter concerns a decision of grave importance to the kingdom, and once it is concluded, you are free to leave whenever you wish."

"I see."

"Yes, ma'am."

After a brief hesitation, Lily gave a small nod.

"Then... will you give it to me now?"

"...I beg your pardon?"

Now?

It was the quest that had appeared after I claimed the Blue Guardian, the prize for winning the Mock Siege Battle. The objective: gather all seven of the scattered Masterpieces. What would happen once they were all collected, I had no idea — but one thing was certain. Something far from ordinary would come of it.

'Seven pieces of Mythic-grade equipment. A complete set, no less.'

At that level, it wouldn't be the least bit surprising if they granted power rivaling that of high-ranking Celestials and Demons.

Any strength I was still missing, I could simply fill in myself, after all.

"Yes. Now."

More than anything, it sounded like it would be fun.

Staggering back a step, Vir instinctively reached for his hip — toward something that looked like a small leather satchel.

With the Treasury Minister's authorization, Vir had been granted usage rights to a spatial ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠storage artifact containing a wealth of assets and treasures. The post of Foreign Affairs Director was hardly a lowly one, yet the artifact currently held numerous items that lay beyond even his usual authority. The most difficult of all to access was the very one that now remained — with only two Masterpieces left in the world, the Red Guide.

In other words — Vir, at this very moment, was carrying the Red Guide itself.

"...Well. Perhaps you could hear the full proposal first, and then come to the kingdom so we might work out the additional terms of the contract at leisure—"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to take it and vanish. Though if we don't end up signing a contract, I'll return it, of course."

I keep my promises. I had never once failed to honor a debt, and I had no intention of starting now.

'Because Lily — because I — am that kind of person.'

While Vir sat lost in thought, I glanced around at my surroundings. Never mind the stares — the line had grown far too long. No doubt every one of them had come to make an offer of their own.

"It seems I've caused quite a commotion."

Time to relocate, then.

The banquet hall was divided into the grand main hall and a sub-hall screened off behind partitions. The sub-hall spanned the second and third floors, with a basement level below — not entirely sealed off, but far more enclosed than the wide-open main hall.

"...Ahem. Y-you will truly come to the kingdom, then?"

"Of course."

A hidden room tucked into a quiet corner of the second floor, where few visitors ever strayed. Now that it had become a room with rather a lot of traffic, I received what appeared to be a crimson gauntlet.

A gauntlet adorned with strikingly ornate engravings. Like the ring, it fit my hand perfectly — as though it had been made for me.

The ring and the gauntlet, both worn on the same left hand. Their mana began to stir, slowly, as though resonating with one another.

"?"

"Is something the matter?"

"The Masterpieces seem to be reacting to each other. They don't look like Soul Weapons, though."

Soul Weapon — a weapon with a soul dwelling within it. The kind of armament I used to forge and wield myself.

Things like Karabus's Hammer, or Hydra's Trident.

I flattered myself that my understanding of weapons ran deep, having forged and wielded so many with my own hands — but these Masterpieces carried no trace of anything resembling 'life' or a 'soul'.

Vir stroked his chin and spoke with careful deliberation.

"It would be... difficult to call them Soul Weapons, exactly, but they are similar in nature. Every one of these Masterpieces was born from the hands of the great smith Drak. If anyone could breathe 'will' into an object and give it life, it would be him..."

"You said there are seven Masterpieces in total?"

"Yes. Whenever the Talikal Kingdom finds itself in peril, Drak takes up his hammer without fail. The Masterpieces forged in that hour are used to save the kingdom."

Which meant, in other words, that Talikal had faced seven crises in its history.

Vir went on with a grave expression.

"The Empire's wars of conquest have stretched across centuries. Their reach extended to Talikal as well. Talikal is strong — but she is no match for the Empire."

"The Empire is vast, isn't it."

"Indeed. More than half the continent belongs to them."

The Imperium — the great Golden Empire that held the continent in thrall. Seventy percent of the land, excluding only the few zones humanity had never managed to claim, fell under the Empire's dominion.

It was a joke told half in earnest that even dragons, unable to best the Empire, never dared venture beyond their own territories. And that was not all. The imperial knights stood on par with the top ten rankers. Their swords and armor were Legendary and Mythic-grade armaments — in every conceivable respect, the Empire simply stood ahead of everyone else.

"Furthermore, the Empire commands the Eight Swords. Blades who answer to the imperial throne alone — their martial might could fell even the ancient monstrosities of old..."

"The Eight Swords?"

In that instant, the sealed room froze over.

No — a killing intent so piercing that it merely felt like freezing spread through the air.

Vir flung himself back against the wall at the sudden wave of malice.

He couldn't breathe. His whole body shook, cold sweat streaming down his back.

As Foreign Affairs Director, Vir had faced down countless people over the years.

Among them had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠powerhouses who could have crushed him like an ant, and masters on par with the commander of the Eagle Knights, the kingdom's own blade. Leading a diplomatic delegation, he had even walked the halls of the imperial palace and met one of the Eight Swords — one of the eight, granted, but one all the same.

And yet.

"Ugh..."

'This is different.'

This was on an entirely different plane of existence. A power that could reduce the Eight Swords themselves to nothing was seeping into the room, saturating every inch of it.

Sweat soaking cold down his spine, Vir felt something strange and twisted blossom in his chest — exhilaration.

'If the kingdom could wield a blade like this...!'

It might stand against the Empire. No — it might even rival it.

Fsssssss...

"Ah."

How much time had passed? The power receded. The killing intent receded. And Lily's eyes returned to normal.

'...Ah.'

Drinks shattered to pieces everywhere. Snacks scattered across every surface. Decorations of expensive craftsmanship had been torn to ribbons, and the terrified Foreign Affairs Director of Talikal, Vir, was pressed flat against the wall, swallowing hard.

The hidden room was a wreck.

I'd slipped up, hadn't I.

I rose from my seat and bowed my head.

"My apologies. I showed you an ugly side of myself."

"N-no, not at all... though I do believe I've lost about ten years off my lifespan."

Hahaha...

I shook my head at the camera, chat erupting into chaos all around.

"Oh — no, I'm fine. Really. Some memories just came back that made me angry for a moment."

?

The Eight Swords. Eight blades guarding the Empire.

The Eight Seats. Eight pillars upholding the Celestials.

Anyone could write that off as a coincidence, but something about it scratched at a fundamental part of me.

In 'that place' — the past of Deoen, which I was almost certain of now — humans had been no different from any of the other races.

'A race plentiful in numbers, but not especially strong.'

Setting aside the Celestials and the Demons, humans had been capable of learning a broader array of techniques and magic than any other species — and that gift had been the means by which they compensated for their lacking physiques. But that was all it had been.

'Humans are not strong.'

Even if the Celestials and Demons had all vanished, the most that should have remained would be kings of small ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and middling domains, or an empire in name only cobbled together from a handful of kingdoms. Nothing capable of commanding an entire continent. Nothing capable of crushing the dragons and the mystic races beneath its heel and seizing supremacy.

And yet humanity had been reborn as the strongest race on the continent, and the Empire had become the continent's master in both name and fact.

And the greatest weapon of that very humanity — the Eight Swords.

It fit far too neatly to dismiss as coincidence.

'When coincidences pile up, they stop being coincidence.'

If the Empire truly was connected to the Celestials...

Crrrrk—...

'I suppose I'll have to look into it, then.'