The Sure-Hit Sword (1)
"Slain a flame giant at twelve? And you expect me to believe that now?"
"It wasn't just any flame giant—it was a female. And you're quite right, you know. When a child grows too exceptional, the parents start feeling threatened. Call me the Ghost of the North all you like, but even I lacked the confidence to raise this boy properly."
"Ha! Making wild claims without a shred of evidence. By that logic, my Silva here has slain a dragon."
"Srudal!"
Father turned and called out. From a corner of the banquet hall, a massive ogre rose to its feet and made his way over.
"You called for me, Your Grace?"
When Srudal bowed his head, Regdar nearly blacked out from shock.
"Wh-what?! How is there an ogre here?!"
"Look closely. He's no ordinary ogre."
Regdar glared at Srudal with eyes ready to pop out of his skull. Srudal, for his part, offered the man a perfectly courteous bow.
"I have long admired the renowned valor of Your Excellency the Marquis. It is a supreme honor to finally make your acquaintance."
"Wha······."
Regdar couldn't manage a reply; his mouth simply opened and closed.
"See?"
Father beamed. "He's my son's vassal. This fellow took the male, and my son took the female—one apiece. If you've got any eyes at all, you'll recognize what that armor is made of."
Srudal wore a tunic and armor custom-fitted for an ogre—the set Kaldrik had delivered, crafted from the hide and bones of the flame giant. Seeing the pride written across Father's face, I finally understood why he'd insisted on bringing Srudal along. The ogre was living proof of my heroic tale, and a boast to boot: my son keeps an ogre as his vassal.
"Damn it all. If only my domain had a giant sick from starvation wandering around like yours does... Your land must be rolling in abundance."
"If you're jealous, just come out and say so. Haha!"
Father threw his head back and roared with laughter, face flushed red.
The journey went smoothly. Not a single bandit was foolish enough to try anything after glimpsing the banner of Duke Esterzy, the strongest house in the North.
If I had to name the greatest obstacle of the trip, it was Father. At every domain we passed through, he sought out the local lord's manor and unspooled an endless recital of his son's achievements.
"You see, my son..."
At first I was proud. By the end, I was a little embarrassed. Still, I cherished the time with Father itself.
For a moment that others might take as naturally as breathing, I had waited twelve years—on top of an entire previous life.
Father seemed to enjoy our time together as well, seizing any excuse to strike up a conversation.
"Iden, do you see that mountain?"
"Has it truly been twelve years already? Back then, the lord of this land..."
As we entered the Empire's heartland, it became unmistakably clear that we had left the bounds of Father's influence. From here on, he stopped bragging about me. The central nobles treated him with the polite distance one shows a 'visitor from the North'—and every one of them shared a single trait: they all served the same liege.
"This is the land of Kalman, the Sword Duke. His manner is foul, but his ability is exceptional—best to remember him."
Kalman, the Sword Duke.
I knew he was one of the seven Grand Masters called the Seven Pillars of the Empire. That was the extent of my knowledge. I had never cared for such things—the Four Great Emperors this, the Ten Supreme Masters that... gossip that existed for no purpose but to rank the strong. But Kalman piqued my interest. Father had defined him as 'a man worth remembering.'
"What kind of man is Kalman?"
"Talon, you tell him."
Father passed the question to his guard captain.
"The finest swordsman on the continent," Talon answered without a moment's hesitation.
"The strongest on the continent? Stronger than you, Father?"
Talon stole a sidelong glance at Father, who just happened to have a sword at his hip.
"Haha. Naturally, the strongest is my lord. However, each of the Seven Pillars of the Empire reigns supreme within his own domain, and in pure swordsmanship, it is true that no one can best Kalman."
"What's his Awoken Ability?"
"The Sure-Hit Sword. The first strike he makes with his blade is guaranteed to hit its target."
"Guaranteed? It hits one hundred percent of the time?"
"Yes."
...Absurd.
No martial art, however lofty its realm, had ever contained a technique that could not miss. Forcing a 'guaranteed hit' into existence through an Awoken Ability—wasn't that simply cheating?
"Which is why men may oppose him, but none have ever fought him. Everyone who has crossed blades with him is dead."
I carved Kalman's name deep into my memory—resolved, above all, never to give him a reason to cross mine. Perhaps owing to their lord's dreadful renown, Kalman's territories were peaceful to the point of tedium. It was the first domain I'd ever seen without a scrap of litter on its streets. No hawkers, no drunken brawls.
Beyond that dull expanse of Kalman's land lay the Imperial Capital. Thirty-odd days after leaving the duchy, we at last reached the heart of the Empire.
The Capital was a city so vast it boasted eight concentric layers of inner walls alone, and between each ring sprawled a residential district the size of a respectable fortress city.
"I have never once thought our duchy small," Thalia said, gazing up at the towering walls.
"Now I understand why my senior told me to come broaden my experience."
And it wasn't merely the scale. People crowded the streets, and wealth overflowed from every purse. Even a common mercenary of the Capital looked better equipped than a Northern knight.
The moment we secured lodging, Father dragged me straight to the Imperial Palace.
"His Majesty will be delighted to see you."
At last, the beast of parental bragging seemed poised to sink its claws into the most powerful man in the nation. But Father's impure intentions were blocked at the very first step.
"Our most humble apologies, Your Grace." The chamberlain bowed low before Father. "His Majesty is not receiving any audiences at present."
"I sent word ahead that I was coming. Did it not arrive?"
"It did, Your Grace. The message was most certainly delivered."
"Then why?"
Father glared at the chamberlain as if he might devour him on the spot. The man fidgeted as he answered.
"His Majesty's condition is poor, and he says he cannot receive anyone just now. If you would only wait a few days..."
Father's mood turned visibly sour. In a palace lined with court priests, pleading illness to refuse an audience was nothing but a polite political way of saying we don't wish to speak with you. And as far as I knew, the Imperial Family and House Esterzy had never once been at odds. Had he known he'd be left standing at the gate, Father would never have made the journey at all.
"It seems the Capital has changed a great deal in the last three years. I'll have to find out what's happened."
"Might I step out for a bit in the meantime?"
"Of course. No need to ask permission—roam as you please. Who knows when you'll see this place again."
Father granted my leave without hesitation. I had two more errands besides an audience with the Emperor. The first was a favor from Daphne, Mabel's fiancée. The second was Lucian's request to deliver a business proposal to Zargon, a merchant of the Capital.
I parted ways with Father and returned to our lodgings.
"Adras!"
"Yes, Young Master!" The middle-aged man came running as though he'd been waiting for nothing else in the world.
"Take me to Zargon."
"You mean right now?"
"Why? Do you have something better to do?"
"Not at all, Young Master! I shall gather the luggage and come down at once!"
Adras bounded back up the stairs. Daphne's favor was the sort of thing I could grant or set aside without consequence. But expanding Lucian's business was tied directly to my livelihood. Sales, however, were not my department—I intended to hand over the proposal exactly as asked and call it done.
Adras readied laborers, a carriage, and a cargo wagon. The wagon was piled high with trade goods from the Gray Trading Company. Most were byproducts of 3rd- and 4th-grade monsters. I also spotted 3rd-grade mana sources among the cargo—Lucian must have traded on my name without a shred of shame to get his hands on those.
Adras and I drove the carriage to the establishment of Zargon, one of the great merchant princes of the Capital.
"Welcome, Young Master Iden."
Zargon was a man of sixty this year. He greeted me with his entire face creased in smiles.
"To think the heir of the illustrious House Esterzy would grace my humble establishment—so that is what Lord Solitas meant when he appeared in my dream."
"What reputation could I possibly have?"
"But of course. You are widely known as the most exceptional of the three sons of the 'Shield of the North.'"
For a merchant, his knack for gilding a man's face with flattery was extraordinary. Even Lucian was never this bad.
"Now, right this way, please."
I followed Zargon into a spacious meeting room, where a rich fragrance of red sandalwood drifted up from the solid hardwood table. "Simply tell me the goods and quantities you desire. As this is our first transaction, Young Master, I shall see to everything with my personal discretion."
"I didn't come here to buy, Zargon. Quite the opposite."
"The opposite...?"
"To open trade."
I held out the business proposal Lucian had given me. Zargon's expression transformed in an instant—from that of a supplicant to that of a man holding all the cards.
"My sincere apologies, but I do not accept business proposals."
"Without even reading it?"
"We are busy enough unloading our current stock as it is. There is simply no need, shall we say, to take on other merchandise."
"Materials from 3rd- and 4th-grade monsters are hardly 'unnecessary.'"
"'Unnecessary' is precisely the word. My flagship product is the 2nd-grade mana source. My inventory is so bloated I must ration what I release to the market. Thanks to that, the price of anything below 2nd grade has utterly collapsed. The goods you brought would never fetch their true worth anyway."
Zargon laughed, thoroughly pleased with himself.
"And what is this flagship product of yours?"
"Ironshine. I deal in nothing else."
Ironshine.
A bulbous plant that stores mana in its roots. In terms of rarity, it outstripped even Scarlet Blaze—for it grew only in the Subterranean World, where every manner of monster crawled.
"Now I'm curious who your suppliers are."
"My apologies, but matters concerning my suppliers are trade secrets I cannot disclose."
"Fine. Then show me a sample of your wares."
Zargon brought out a root hung heavy with round tubers. Within each cold, hard tuber, the essence of metal was condensed to an extreme degree. Ruby slithered down from my wrist and sniffed at them. The little one flared its nostrils a few times, then let out a cry of sheer, desperate longing.
"Squeeeeak—!"
"It seems your pet has taken a fancy to it." Zargon smirked.
"He does. This one has rather refined tastes."
A spirit fruit that surfaced perhaps once in a few centuries, rolling right in to me, vine and all... why did this feel like déjà vu?
"Trade with me now, and I will offer you a special discounted price. Installment plans can be arranged as well."
"We're leaving, Adras."
"Y-Young Master?"
Zargon was flustered.
"Something's come up. I'll come again another time."
"Oh dear, Young Master! I was prepared to accommodate your schedule in any way I could... What a pity."
There was no soul behind Zargon's performance. His eyes said everything.
I led Adras out of the trading house. The fellow was beside himself over the collapsed deal.
"You seem to have plenty you want to say. Out with it."
"Not at all, my lord! The Guild Master charged me never to question your judgment in any way!"
"Even if I return empty-handed?"
"Even if you burn the wagon to ashes!"
"Oh-ho."
That's Lucian for you. Whether he had foreseen this exact situation, I couldn't say.
"It's not that I refuse to trade. But if I signed a contract now, I'd end up dumping every last item at clearance prices."
"Quite so. As things stand, there'd be no reward for all the trouble of reaching the Capital."
"Which is why I intend to restore the mana source market to its proper state—and I'll need your cooperation."
"I shall devote myself body and soul to the task!"
"I'll give you two missions. First, investigate the flow of money through Zargon's trading house. I need to know where the coin enters from and where it flows to. Second, I need a read on the Capital's mood—how the other trading houses feel about Zargon's stranglehold on supply."
"And the deadline, if I may ask...?"
"Two days."
For me, that would be impossible. But for a conman who'd swindled millions of baht out of bottled creek water? Entirely within reach.
Adras departed without a word of protest. Not once did he say it couldn't be done. Once he was gone, I set Ruby down on the ground.
"You smelled something tasty earlier, didn't you?"
Nod, nod. Ruby bobbed its head up and down. I was growing convinced the little thing understood every word. It wasn't called a clever beast for nothing.
"Walk time, Ruby."
"Squeak?"
"I'll stuff you full of that thing from earlier. All you have to do is lead the way."
Ruby spun in giddy circles on the spot, then drummed off on all fours toward who-knew-where, little feet pattering against the ground.