Absolute Sword Gang

The meeting ended faster than I'd expected.

As if there was no time to waste now that the Emperor was stirring awake.

...Three agenda items were put forward in that meeting.

I left the chamber at an unhurried pace, replaying everything that had just been discussed.

Three proposals in total.

The first: throw their full support behind King Friedrich, the Demon of Pride.

The second: grant the first audience with the Emperor to whoever found the Golden Spirit King.

And the third: gather the people of the Empire and host a grand tournament.

A tournament for the Empire's unity, huh.

The justification was solid enough. In a world this turbulent, what better chance could there be for the Empire's people to pool their strength and unearth new talent?

But the scale of the thing was far beyond anything I'd imagined.

You could call it a Martial Arts Tournament of the Heavens and it wouldn't be an exaggeration.

This tournament would ignore rank and birth entirely. Anyone with ability, anyone with talent, would get a single shot at turning their entire life around.

And the prizes on the line shattered every expectation I had.

...The Path of Light and the Holy Light.

Two pieces of Unique-grade equipment hanging as prizes. Both names, somehow, felt uncomfortably familiar.

...They were all Wilhelm's gear.

I still remembered how hard the shock had hit me the first time I heard it. Of the eight Unique-grade pieces that had been dismantled after Wilhelm's death, two of those names had just casually resurfaced. I never would have dreamed it.

Had the Empire bought up every last material that had been separated out into the Golden Rule Shop? For people who monitored a player's every move, using the Golden Rule Shop wouldn't have been strange at all.

"Lord Golden Goat. You will be staying here for the night."

"Understood."

Guided by a maid in a rabbit mask, I stepped into the quarters prepared for me within the palace. Part of me wanted to get out of this damned Imperial Palace as fast as humanly possible—but that wasn't an option.

After the meeting, the Golden Mask had said:

Even Raiga, the Knight Commander, had accepted it without a word of protest. It seemed to be something of an annual tradition.

So that's why they massed every soldier they had—to prepare for any possible incident.

I sat on the edge of the bed in the lavishly appointed room and looked out the window. Even sitting still, I could feel the crushing weight of power outside. Now I understood why the soldiers had been gathered beyond the palace walls.

...To get through this one day safely.

In a place like this, nothing that happened would be surprising. Those troops weren't there just for a show of force.

"Interesting."

I put everything together and let out a short murmur. The situation unfolding around me was genuinely fascinating.

It wasn't only the mana radiating from the soldiers outside. There were also the covert gazes fixed on me—each one carrying a different intent.

But something even more interesting had caught my attention.

There's a hidden path inside the Imperial Palace.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

On the way here, my Hidden Trait Mutation had activated. An invisible road—one you couldn't see or set foot on without the Hidden Trait. I never expected a place like that to exist inside the palace.

Don't tell me it connects to wherever the Emperor is sleeping?

It wasn't impossible. So I needed to check.

Shadow Footprints. A cloak that cloaked its wearer in Elite Stealth so complete that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ordinary eyes could never detect them. I'd forged it by taking my original Shadow Cloak and every material I'd bought from the Golden Rule Shop and refining them all in the First Fire.

Good thing I made it ahead of time.

Before heading to the Empire, I'd prepared it just in case something like this came up. Best decision I could have made.

Wearing the now pitch-black Shadow Footprints, I slipped quietly out of the room.

Countless paintings hung along the palace walls. Behind the one depicting the Four Calamities, a hidden path waited.

I stepped through the wall without a second's hesitation, and the invisible path began to resolve into something my eyes could actually see.

A narrow corridor. The question marks labeling it suggested this wasn't the only such path.

What is this secret passage for?

There were plenty of reasons to build one—escape, surveillance, stashing something away. And this was a path only visible and accessible through the Hidden Trait Mutation. I couldn't even begin to guess its purpose.

On top of that, the fact that a painting of the Four Calamities hung on the wall leading to it still bothered me.

Whoooosh—

Was it connected to the outside? A cold wind brushed across my skin.

After walking for a long while, the scenery suddenly shifted, and a vast open space unfolded before me.

A hill?

The corridor was gone. A green hill stretched out in its place, and at its center stood a massive tree of verdant life.

"As I thought—you really are something special."

...And standing beside it was him.

For a moment, my thoughts refused to line up. I couldn't understand why he was here right now. But there was no chance I'd misseen him, and no chance this was an illusion. The man I'd been face-to-face with only moments ago. He was unmistakably—

"...Knight Commander Raiga."

Why was he in a place like this? Even under the stealth of Shadow Footprints, he'd recognized me instantly.

Did that mean he also possessed Mutation?

As if answering the question forming in my mind, Raiga spoke.

"In all this time, no one but me has ever set foot here. I never imagined another living human would carry the Mutation trait."

"Where is this?"

"My training ground. Or rather—it used to be ours."

"Ours?"

"Look."

Raiga pointed. Where his finger indicated, five gravestones stood.

"Those five were all masters of the Palga. More precisely, the successors of the generations before me. I inherited their power, refined it, and forged myself into what I am now."

The reason he'd grown strong enough to hunt fragments of Ruin. Generation after generation of unbroken succession, refined into a single finished product.

"But the name of the Palga may end with me. I can't find a single soul worthy of inheriting my power."

Succession of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠power. He was talking about a successor, then. But every knight of the Palga was already among the strongest alive—the most gifted talents in the entire Empire. I couldn't help but ask.

"Does this have anything to do with why you're hosting the tournament?"

"Indeed. I'm looking for someone useful enough to become my successor. I found one from the Derseian family—but one alone isn't enough."

...He meant Isabella. Suddenly I understood why she had become an apprentice knight of the Palga.

He must have gone to the Derseian family and happened to catch sight of her.

Isabella's talent was overwhelming, no question. Having transcended as the named Star of Jormungandr, further growth was already guaranteed. Raiga had simply staged a tournament of this scale to find a successor.

"But doesn't something strike you as odd? Derseian von Isabella. The young lady of House Derseian is said never to have left the Empire... so how does she know you?"

"..."

...Did he catch that?

I'd played it as composed as I could, but apparently I still couldn't slip past Raiga's eyes. Isabella would never have said anything—so he must have picked up on that fleeting, subtle atmosphere the moment our eyes met.

I watched his every movement, tension coiling tight inside me. Then Raiga simply shrugged.

"Well, those who've suffered the Divine Illness are said to see and hear strange things. Just like the current officers of the Death God Religion."

His gaze settled on me—the look of a man certain that I, too, had once been afflicted by the Divine Illness. Then he slowly extended a hand toward me.

"But you're clearly different from the usual officers. I think the two of us could make rather fine partners."

"You're asking me to play spy?"

"The Golden Mask already has his eye on you. If you want to rebuild House Rahon, taking my hand would be a rather sensible choice, wouldn't you say?"

He still firmly believed I was the heir of House Rahon. But... none of what he'd said was entirely wrong. I had openly stood against the Golden Mask in the meeting, and in return he'd treated me like I was invisible. That treatment would continue. Or worse—he might try to erase me for real.

If Raiga threw his weight behind me, my safety within the Empire would be more or less secured. Even so—

"I refuse."

"I figured as much."

Raiga gave a short, dry laugh, as if he'd have been more disappointed had I simply taken his hand. Accepting right now would have been the worst possible move. I needed a fuller grasp of his intentions first. He didn't know me—and I didn't know him either.

Then—

Shiiing.

Raiga slowly drew his sword, leveled it at me, and spoke.

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"Did you know? Bearers of Mutation can steal each other's abilities."

That was the real point of all this. His eyes burned with naked excitement. The competitive fire I'd first felt when he pointed Sword Gang at me after summoning Baal had now reached its absolute peak.

Back then, the situation hadn't allowed a fight—but this place held only the two of us. A place only the two of us could reach. No need to hide anything. No need to watch anyone's face.

He's serious.

...There was no getting out of this one.

Swaaaaaah!

Sword Gang erupted like a roaring blaze. Every time our Sword Gang collided, the world itself shuddered.

KRAAANG!

We traded the Gang each of us carried, pouring out our skill without restraint.

He's strong.

The more our blades met, the more Raiga's strength stunned me. And I realized something else—he still wasn't showing his full power.

He wants a clash of Gang against Gang.

Raiga wasn't after a contest of raw martial force. He wanted a pure duel between the Sword Gang he carried and the Sword Gang I carried. Whose Gang was stronger. That was all.

Maybe that was why his movements were so starkly simple. Nothing but Sword Gang crashing into Sword Gang, again and again.

He believed my Sword Gang came from Baal's Authority. And he was absolutely convinced that his own Sword Gang was the purest and most supreme in the world. The talk of Mutation-bearers stealing each other's abilities had been nothing but a pretext. From the start, Raiga had simply wanted to prove to me that his Sword Gang was superior.

KAAANG! KAAAANG!

Interesting.

And yet this utterly simple duel of Gang against Gang was, for some reason, enjoyable. A fight that demanded no stray thoughts—only total focus on a single thing. Drawn into a structure completely different from my usual battles, I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into it.

How much time passed like that?