The Trap of the Average

I am trash.

That is the conclusion I reached after long and careful thought.

I was trash.

This would have been, roughly, twenty-two years ago.

My dream was to become the strongest. Like most boys, I blindly yearned for power and wished to be the one unique, special existence in the world.

Usually people awaken to reality as they grow older, but I had three reasons I could never manage it. A disposition more optimistic than most; talent the size of a rat dropping; and a man who one day appeared before me.

A white-haired old man who stepped on leaves to fly through the sky and, while still seated, sliced the clouds overhead into a bed. The moment I saw him I threw myself to the ground and begged for instruction, and so the bond of master and disciple was formed.

In case anyone gets the wrong idea, let me say this up front: that old man was a con artist. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A mad old bastard who drank every day, spouted nothing but empty bluster, and beat his disciple senseless under the pretense of training.

Still, it wasn't as if the training had been completely meaningless, so at some point I deluded myself into thinking I had gotten stronger. And since Master seemed to acknowledge me in his own way, I decided to prove my skill at a martial arts tournament hosted in a backwater town called Levenia.

But who would have thought I would get wiped out in the very first match of the round of thirty-two.

"Haaah."

Just thinking about it again is so absurd I can't help sighing. And my opponent was a girl, no less. She looked about three years younger than me—a strange girl whose eyes were almost dead. I lost to that girl in a mere four exchanges.

Losing like that was already humiliating enough, but when I heard her muttering that this couldn't be right, I bolted straight out. She must have found it strange that she had won, too. Even so, I still hadn't come to my senses, so this time I challenged another contest.

"Count Durka's Hunting Tournament."

I was so furious I remember the name perfectly. The rules were simple: whoever took the most game within the time limit won.

My record there was zero. Not one beast, not half a beast—just zero.

"...Ahem."

Well, there was a reason. I was about to take my first quarry when some hooded brat sniped it right out from under me. I got pissed for no good reason and chased only that kid afterward, missing every time by a hair.

As a result, of course I ranked dead last. When my ranking was announced, the brat forgot even to keep the hood up and just stared at my face. That one looked foreign—red hair, vertical slit pupils. I've got that face memorized. Anyway.

After getting eliminated a second time, I was completely out of money and had to work. What I took on was some kind of proxy duel. A high-and-mighty noble had misspoken and gotten into a scrap with some knight, and they said they would pay me if I went out in his place.

When you're broke enough to cry, you take what you can get. And that guy said something like—it probably wouldn't happen, but this person was incredibly high-ranking, so I must absolutely not try to win. Of course I could tell at a glance I couldn't win even if I went all out.

So I just ran around dodging. Since I had come out as the noble's proxy in the first place, the spectators lost interest and all went home. Looking at how my opponent brought not a proper weapon but some sword studded with beast fangs I had never seen before, they didn't seem intent on a real fight either.

But once I started blocking a couple of times, at some point they suddenly got serious, and I ended up taking a hit after all. Whether it was the sword or the wind pressure, anyway—after I went down they kept asking what my name was, but my carriage was about to leave, so I just walked out.

But I missed that carriage too. My luck was truly rotten. Irritated, and hollowed out by the fact that I had recorded a third straight loss, I wandered outside the castle walls for a long while.

I never dreamed I would record a fourth loss that day.

"Should've just waited for the carriage."

Belated regret circles my lips. But no matter how much I lament, I can't stop the memory of that day from rising. Beyond the concealing brush, a demon-kin girl wandering about, bleeding.

I didn't know her race, but given she was wounded and hiding near the castle, she seemed like a low-ranking demon-kin who had fled while being hunted. When wounded, fleeing should come first—yet either she lacked even that judgment or something, the moment our eyes met she suddenly charged this way, and I had no choice but to draw my sword.

But I couldn't even overwhelm a young demon-kin specimen like that. We fought for maybe four hours or so, until I luckily managed to wound her arm and stop her. She seemed amused that trash like me even existed, chattering away that this was the first time anyone had wounded her body or whatever.

If the sun hadn't risen right then, I might really have crossed a river. Looking at how she backed off when she saw the sunlight, she must have been afraid other people would come. It must have been quite a blow to her pride—but probably not as much as it was to me.

Four consecutive losses. To four different opponents, no less.

And so I returned to my hometown. Fortunately, once I could see myself objectively, I felt a little more mature. Looking at how even this much wasn't enough, this simply wasn't my destiny.

The world is wide, and there are many paths forward. Outside the window I gazed through, the deep blue sky still stretched on. As that thought crossed my mind, a child's voice suddenly floated in from beyond the window.

"Claus hyung! It's time!"

"Is it already that late."

Come to think of it, before leaving the village I had accepted a request to recon a demon-kin den. Nothing major, but since it was demon-kin, I had heard the guild was dispatching an officer.

I'll wrap this one up and wash my hands of it. Thinking that, I rose lightly to my feet.

"You're Mr. Claus, correct?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I'm Heiri, dispatched for today's request. I'm here to assist with the smooth completion of the request, so please don't be too nervous, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask. By the way, is this everyone participating today?"

"Yes. Just me."

"Ah, I see..."

The support officer, dressed in a crisp suit and tie, looked this way with somewhat doubtful eyes. Even for a simple request, bringing along a single country bumpkin like this must have made her a little uneasy.

"Do you have any experience with guild requests?"

"No. This is my first."

"I thought as much. Still, since it's only a simple recon mission, there's no need to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worry too much. By the way, do you have any equipment besides your sword?"

"I don't."

"...Fortunately I brought rental equipment, so please put this on. If any damage is incurred, it'll be deducted separately from the request fee."

"Oh, is that so? Then I don't really need to wear it..."

"I'll help you put it on."

I tried to demur a little, but she fitted the armor on me with extreme thoroughness. Helmet, knee guards, even shin guards.

Well, safety first either way. Only after she had tightened the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠straps of the guards once more could we finally set out.

"If it looks like things might get dangerous, you can run right away. Understood?"

"Sure, whatever. By the way, you seem pretty experienced, Support Officer."

"No. Actually I only started recently. That's why I'm being more careful. And coming out to a rural village like this is... my first time."

"Ah, I see."

Then it's natural she'd be anxious. She's fretting that she might witness someone die right in front of her for the first time. Guild support officers all go through that eventually, after all.

Then I ought to do my best for her sake as well. Just as I steeled that resolve, our destination gradually came into view.

"That... seems to be it. A cave with the entrance blocked by branches. The demon-kin is probably inside."

"Do I just take a look at roughly what it is and come back?"

"No. Rather than going in directly, it would be safer to make noise artificially and lure it out. But demon-kin that obsessively block their cave entrances like that are rare..."

"Uh. Something seems to be coming out over there."

"...Ah, damn."

Before she could finish explaining, the branches blocking the cave entrance twitched, and a two-legged wolf creature crawled out from inside. My first thought was how disgustingly ugly it was, but the support officer twisted her lips in distress.

"This isn't good. Who would have thought there'd be a lycan in a rural village like this. It's a dangerous one. It'll be hard for us to handle alone."

"So it's a dangerous one."

"It'll at least be difficult for you, Mr. Claus. So for now, let's run. If we make sudden noise they might come swarming, so as calmly as possible..."

"But that one, I think it already noticed us."

"What?"

The support officer's gaze, stifling a gasp. Before it, the lycan's ominous eyes locked on. Though the distance was a bit far, the creature was clearly looking this way.

"Ah... crap..."

"Looks like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠running'll be hard."

In that moment I murmured calmly and immediately drew my sword. As a thick iron-blood scent rose beyond the quietly flowing grass smell, the lycan turned this way as expected.

The gaze of a predator facing prey. Instead of charging right away, it raked its eyes over my body—as if imagining where it would be best to bite first.

"Grrrr..."

"...Hmm."

If I don't want to die, I'd better give it everything I've got. I really should've just ditched the request and stayed in the village.

"Huuu..."

Anyway, thanks to that I bought time to prepare, and I quietly took my stance. Gripping the sword and gathering my power, a familiar exaltation spread through both shoulders.

And when I thought all my power was fully loaded into my muscles, I swung my sword at the creature with everything I had. As always, a flash of light blazed before my eyes and a pure white world swirled in every direction.

"Wait...!"

"Kyaaaaak!"

The support officer's voice and the monster's death cry rang out through the air at the same time. But without letting my guard down I followed the sword's trajectory to the end, then finally exhaled in relief and sheathed the blade again.

"Whew. Thankfully it ended without any problems."

"..."

"The equipment doesn't look damaged either... I can just return it as is, right?"

"..."

"Support Officer? Would that work?"

"Eh... yes....?"

Only after hearing the same question repeatedly did Heiri finally raise her head. Amid the tinnitus still ringing in her ears, familiar sunlight warmed both cheeks.

Right—my name. Heiri. For no reason she reconfirmed her own existence. Meanwhile the man kept talking to her with a completely carefree attitude.

"I'll just give this back to you now. I'm scared of scuffing it if I keep wearing it. Should I put it in the bag?"

"Uh... yes. Please do."

"Please send the request fee by mail later. Oh, and don't leave it with Uncle Barrett. That guy has sticky fingers sometimes."

"Ah..."

"Then I'll be heading in. Good work!"

The man called out truly carelessly and immediately turned around. But at the last moment Heiri raised her voice and called after him.

"Um, wait a moment! What did you say your name was?"

"Me? Claus. You already asked at the beginning."

"Th... that's right. But..."

"Well, then I'm really going. I've got work piled up."

Even though she had called him with some urgency, he answered as if it were nothing and set off down the road again. Heiri watched that receding back, then took out pen and paper to write her report.

And she looked once more at the scene before her. But her hand simply would not move, so she expressed her thoughts through her lips instead.

"This..."

"How am I supposed to write this...?"

She felt a sudden helplessness and dropped her pen. But it was not because her writing skill was lacking, and it certainly was not because she had freshly confronted the fear of the field.

It was simply because today was the first time she had seen the sky split open.

In the deeply gouged earth, white flashes still crackled. As if lightning had clawed through, at that utterly devastated site there was no longer any trace of the lycan's den.

A scene that looked as if the world itself would have split in two if the ground had been even a little weaker. Even the clouds in the sky seemed to have split along the trajectory of the sword swing. Of course it was probably a trick of the eye, but only when the divided clouds began to rejoin did she finally open her mouth again.

"Claus... was it...?"

A name she had never heard. Even if you called him a hidden master, when she had treated him like a beginner and helped him into armor he had not looked the least bit offended or flustered.

He just accepted it. As if it were only natural. Feeling an eternally unresolvable question in that gap, she sat on the ground for a long time.

Then something suddenly occurred to her and she reached for her bag again. She pulled out an old scrap of paper she had received not long ago.

Sixty-four participants. The venue a region called Levenia she had never heard of. And the first-place prize was a single ox. In short it was nothing more than entertainment for country bumpkins, and she had not even known it existed until the request came in.

But someone who had participated in that tournament while concealing their identity had secretly sent a request. The demand was only one: find the opponent they had met in the first match of the round of thirty-two.

Because the tournament's conditions were so poor, even the participant list had not been properly kept, and she had obtained it only after tremendous effort. Being the youngest, the job had been dumped on her and she had almost given up—but her efforts had not betrayed her.

Heiri briefly mulled over that coincidence that went by the name of inevitability, then spoke the name written on the list aloud.

"Claus."