The Alchemist
Sword Saint.
One of the highest titles the nation could bestow.
The seat every swordsman and knight dreamed of reaching.
And as befitting a title so many longed for, the benefits that came with it were considerable.
"Tax exemption. An annual stipend of a hundred thousand Elso for maintaining your dignity. Free access to every public facility in the country. Privileges equivalent to those of a count. And so on, and so forth… All of that is yours simply for wearing the title of Sword Saint."
"Hmm… Is any of that actually different from what I have now?"
"Honestly, it's all window dressing. Anyone strong enough to earn the title of Sword Saint could get those things whenever they wanted. In other words, what the country is really trying to say is this."
Francesca exhaled a long plume of cigarette smoke.
"We'll grant you just about anything you ask for. So don't go causing trouble."
Anyone who possessed power inevitably wanted to use it. That was human nature, and there was no stopping it.
But humans were not the sort of creatures who simply gave up when told something was impossible. They were the sort who found a way regardless. And in time, people had managed to invent a few methods for keeping the strong in check.
Either give them everything they wanted so they would have no reason to waste their strength on anything unnecessary—or crush them with even greater force.
"Besides, you only got strong because you wanted a girlfriend, you absolute weirdo. A flashy title like this is hardly going to—"
"Waaah—! I told you not to bring that up!"
"…There's no one around to hear. If anything, you're drawing more attention by yelling."
"Anyway! Don't talk about that outside! I haven't told anyone except you!"
Francesca snorted with laughter and looked down at him.
"Is that so? Funny. There's a rumor going around that a certain someone has been hitting on every woman he meets."
"What are you talking about…? I still don't have a girlfriend."
"Huh? That can't be right… I assigned you a guild staffer, I hooked you up with an adventurer party, and this time you were with some pretty decent-looking adventurer girls— Wait. You. Don't tell me."
Something seemed to click. The Guildmaster stared at Evan with a mixture of dread and dawning horror.
"You couldn't even take what was handed to you on a silver platter?"
"…Well, about that."
"Or you completely misread the mood and just blurted out a confession with zero tact."
"…Who's been spying on me?"
"Both, then? Unbelievable."
Francesca clutched her head at the sheer pathetic spectacle of him, heaved several deep sighs, and immediately lit a fresh cigarette.
She chain-smoked right where she stood until the frustration finally seemed to ease, then opened her mouth again.
"Want me to introduce you to a virgin prostitute instead? Even a brat like you could—"
"No, I'm fine…"
Evan couldn't lift his head.
If words alone could kill a person, he would already have died a hundred times over. His chest ached from the impact.
The day I received the title of Sword Saint, I was also granted the rank of Special Class adventurer by the headquarters director of the guild's main branch.
"I never imagined we would end up creating a rank like this. Congratulations, Evan Kalshooter."
"Ah, yes."
"I look forward to seeing you live up to the name of a Special Class adventurer."
I let the words of the shiny-headed, pot-bellied director go in one ear and out the other, accepted the adventurer's badge gleaming with a brilliant luster, and left the Guildmaster's office.
The Guildmaster looked like she wanted to throw a party and broadcast the news far and wide, but I had already attended more than enough parties to last me a lifetime and had no desire for another.
Maybe the irritation on my face was a little too obvious, because the director took the hint and wrapped up the promotion ceremony in the most modest fashion possible.
Pretty sharp, this guy…
I silently praised the director for handling everything so quickly he might as well have risen to his position on pure social awareness alone—then shuddered at the crowd gathered at the guild entrance.
Eyes glittering with naked greed. I could tell at a glance exactly what they wanted.
"—Evan."
"Hm? Ah— Psyche."
"Congratulations on your promotion to Special Class adventurer. Shall we head back together… Ah. That."
Psyche had appeared behind me. She took one look at the throng packed around the guild's front doors and offered a bitter smile of understanding.
She herself had become a Highest Class adventurer in record time and drew no small amount of attention—but nothing compared to me.
Dragon Slayer. No one could match the spotlight that fell on the owner of a dragon's corpse that had appeared for the first time in years.
"If it troubles you, I will handle them."
"Pardon? How exactly do you plan to 'handle' all those people…?"
"There are ways."
Psyche descended to the first floor with an air that said she alone could be trusted.
A short while later, a heroine's voice thundered up from below.
Only then did I understand how Psyche intended to clear that crowd.
"Bwahahaha—! You damn peddler bastards—! Do you even know where you are, barging in like this?!"
"N-no, we only came to post a request…!"
"Shut your damn mouths—!"
A human barbarian.
She had summoned Anella, the warrior woman whose very capacity for thought was open to debate.
Persuasion and negotiation were luxuries reserved for civilized people who could hold a conversation. Anella, who was closer to a savage, simply drove the crowd out with raw force.
Plenty of people stared at her like she was an idiot, but no one tried to stop her. Deep down, the rest of them had also considered those merchants a public nuisance.
If I slip out now—
"So you're Evan…"
And right then, someone appeared behind me. I hadn't sensed so much as a whisper of presence. I spun around in pure shock.
A suspicious figure in a full robe stood there blankly. Even with them right in front of me, I still couldn't feel any presence at all. It was hard to tell whether this was a living person or a corpse.
A magic tool?
The grotesque voice, like metal scraping on metal, and the face completely hidden beneath the robe told me the garment itself was a magical item.
It also told me that anyone who walked around wearing something like that was no ordinary person.
"…And you are?"
"I-I'm Ca-Canelly."
The one who introduced himself as Canelly carefully extended a hand. Long, untrimmed nails stretched out sharp and pointed.
I frowned slightly at the sight—only for Canelly to suddenly burst into a strange, hiccupping laugh.
"Y-you—have it, right? The Dragon Heart…"
"I don't."
"L-liar. I already know you killed the dragon… So you have it, right? The Dragon Heaaart—"
"No, I'm not lying."
I scratched my cheek as I answered.
"I left the corpse in the Count's territory."
"…What?"
His mouth fell open in pure disbelief.
He left it? Where?
Canelly was struck speechless by Evan's words. A Dragon Heart. The single most precious thing you could take from a dragon. It wasn't as if he didn't know its value. And he had just… left that priceless treasure in the Count's territory?
A dragon's corpse was that valuable, and he was just going to leave it lying around for anyone to steal? No—if that was the case, there had been no reason for her to come looking for him here in the first place…
"W-why would you leave it there…?!"
"Well, it was huge and a pain to move. The Count said he'd send it along later."
"What if someone steals it…"
"Huh? But the Count is the one storing it. Who's going to steal it from him?"
Listening to Evan, Canelly realized this kid had no concept of a dragon's true worth—and no idea that a mere count was nothing more than a mid-level official.
"Th-they'll steal it! A count isn't scary at all…! …The one who's actually scary is the king behind him."
"There's an army, though…"
"I'm telling you they'll steal it…! E-even I would steal it if I heard something like—"
A dragon's heart was more than worth stealing. Mid-sentence, Canelly arrived at a terrible realization from her own words. Yes. Even she would have stolen it.
And what about people who were actually confident in their own strength? They would already be targeting the dragon's heart in the Count's territory.
After all, she herself had come looking the moment she learned Evan was here—anyone with half a brain would have figured out where the dragon's corpse was and gone straight for it.
If the corpse's owner had been nearby, that would be one thing. But Evan was currently in the Royal Capital.
In other words… right now, no one is guarding the dragon's corpse…?
There would be soldiers, of course, but to superhumans like her, ordinary troops were little better than scarecrows. The moment that fact hit her, Canelly panicked completely.
"Th-this is bad! This is really bad…!"
"Huh? What now all of a sudden…"
"Y-your corpse! The dragon's corpse—it's going to get stolen…!"
"Hmm… If you're that worried, want to come with me?"
"H-huh?"
Canelly flinched and took a step back. What did he just say? Come with him? Where? Just the two of them?
I-is this… a date invitation…?
Grand Alchemist Canelly. Female.
Had never dated a man even once in her life.
Naturally, had never been on a date either.
A man taking the initiative and inviting her to do something. This was the first time.
H-he—he just took my first…!?
Her first experience, stolen by Evan.
I set out for the Count's territory with this suspicious person named Canelly—about whom I knew nothing except the name—and began investigating his background from inside the carriage.
"By the way—why were you looking for a Dragon Heart?"
"W-well… Because there's no better alchemy material than that—"
"Alchemy? You're an alchemist?"
"H-huh? D-did I not say? I-I'm a state-approved alchemist…"
State-approved. That alone lowered my suspicion a notch. I figured the country wouldn't hand out official credentials to complete lunatics or total weirdos.
After all, state-approved titles were the sort of thing given to kind, talented people like me, right?
As we talked, though, I realized he had no real need to come to me for a dragon's heart in the first place.
"If you need one, why not just hunt a dragon yourself?"
"I-I can't fight. And—I'm a bad matchup against dragons…"
"Matchup?"
"A dragon's scales are an invincible shield. Ballistae, siege catapults, even magic—none of it gets through… Th-that's why even armies have a hard time killing them…"
"Isn't there anyone you could ask?"
"I don't know anyone…"
"Ah."
I shut my mouth. The fact that he couldn't even ask for help because he didn't know anyone told me roughly how many friends he had.
Someone like that almost certainly didn't have a partner either. In other words, he was the same as me.
Fellow single comrades. I offered Canelly a word of comfort.
"It's okay. I don't have a girlfriend either."
"H-huh? I do have a girlfriend, though…"
"…What did you just say?"
Cancel that.
From this moment on, you are my enemy.
I glared at Canelly with pure hostility in my eyes.
He tilted his head, completely baffled as to why.
Even someone like this has a girlfriend…!
I was still trying to figure out how to vent this outrage when the carriage came to a stop.
—S-sir. Um—that is…
"What is it?"
—I think you need to step outside for a moment.
At the coachman's words, I left Canelly behind and got out of the carriage alone. And found the coachman already dead.
Blood was pouring from every hole in his body, yet his mouth suddenly started clacking open and shut.
"S-sir. You need to step outside. Sir, you need to step outside."
"…What the hell is this."
"S-s-s-sir. Sirsirsir—!"
The coachman's corpse lunged straight at me.
I immediately swung my sword and turned the coachman into a coach and a man.
Even with his upper and lower halves separated and rolling across the ground, the coachman didn't stop, his mouth still clacking away.
"S-sir. Step, step, out, side."
"Seriously, what is this…"
"N-necromancy…"
Canelly, who had climbed down after me to see what was going on, glanced toward the distant Count's territory and spoke.
"I-I told you! S-someone was going to come steal the dragon's corpse!"
I answered coldly as Canelly practically celebrated being proven right.
"Is this something to be happy about?"
"Ah… s-sorry."
"I don't know how to drive a carriage!"
"…Huh? Ah, th-that's the problem."
Canelly stared at me with an utterly dumbfounded expression.