One day had passed since his eligibility was revoked. The sensation of the stone pavement remained unchanged from the day before. The same hardness, the same coldness. But until yesterday, Retsu had a "reason" to tread upon these stones. Now——he was simply standing. The second day of the Trevia Combat Festival continued to radiate heat even outside the arena. Even as evening fell, the plaza overflowed with martial artists and tourists buzzing about the tournament. The smell of fried meat drifted from food stalls, and cheers echoed from somewhere in a tavern. The tournament continued. Only Retsu stood outside of it. Footsteps approached. One step, then another. The sound of boots striking stone came toward Retsu in a rhythm distinctly different from the noise of the crowd. Intentional footfalls. Retsu did not turn around. "So you're the last martial artist of the Spiral God Killing Fist?" The voice was young. Provocative, yet strangely composed. Retsu turned slowly. Silver hair cut short, with black and red mesh streaks. A thin eye patch over the left eye. Height exceeding one hundred eighty-five centimeters. A hand resting on the hilt of a single-edged sword at his waist, and red eyes——the intimidating pupils known as "Demon Eyes"——fixed directly on Retsu. Rud Ashbal. The next-generation candidate of the Ashbal Sword School, a dojo in Trevia's eastern district. From the day Retsu arrived in Trevia, he had heard that name at least once. The crowd in the plaza was still thick. Onlookers naturally began to create distance around the two. Rud was deliberately creating this atmosphere. "[cold]So the Spiral God Killing Fist was merely the name of an unrecognized school?" His voice was deliberately loud enough for those nearby to hear. Several passing martial artists stopped. Gazes converged. "Fight me. Right here, right now. Without a third-party witness——I don't mind it that way" Retsu remained motionless outside the engagement distance. The Code of Combat Courtesy——a customary law established after the conclusion of the Grand Melee. Private duels between martial artists were prohibited in principle. Settlements were to occur in official combat tournaments or, with mutual consent, under the supervision of a third party. Violation meant expulsion from all schools and permanent loss of martial artist privileges. Rud knew this. That's why he was inviting him without a witness. To accept would mean expulsion. To refuse—— "[sarcastic]What's wrong? Running away?" A few people laughed. Quietly, but unmistakably. "[cold]No certification, no eligibility, can't even stand here anymore" Rud's voice grew slightly louder. "[sarcastic]Maybe that's what it means for the Spiral God Killing Fist to have been lost. It was weak, so it disappeared. It simply wasn't worth preserving. You'd understand that much if you were a real martial artist, wouldn't you?" Retsu's right fist clenched slightly. His qi stirred within. Energy began to spiral through his body——Retsu consciously stopped it. The heat that had been flowing to his fingertips, he pushed down into his abdomen. He controlled it. (I cannot move to protect the school.) There was a part of him that could not move. His body could move. His qi wanted to move. But the system of this city had become a wall. It was the same wall as yesterday. That sensation from when Mira had knelt on the stone pavement——it existed in Retsu's chest now in the same form. Retsu did not move. Outside the engagement distance. Not stepping forward, not speaking a word, simply standing. For just an instant——only an instant——Rud's red eyes became the eyes of someone searching for something. Not an expectation that he would take the bait, but something else entirely. But that expression vanished quickly. "[cold]……Well, fine. That's all the answer I need" He turned on his heel. Scattered laughter rose from the plaza's onlookers. Retsu did not move. --- He returned to the white-walled inn after the commotion in the plaza had subsided. He entered the room and closed the door. The lamp's flame flickered. On the table, there was a sealed letter. It had not been there yesterday. The room's key was managed through the hands of the Iron Ring Mercenary Company——which meant Seraphina had arranged it. Retsu picked up the letter. The document's contents were concise. Through intervention with Petra Mieze, the head of the Trevia Pharmacist Guild, the grounds for revoking Mira Narasa's examination eligibility had been established. If he did not sign a contract as an exclusive martial artist by dawn tomorrow, it would be executed. Seraphina Lawin, Captain of the Iron Ring Mercenary Company. The reason Mira had come to Trevia was the pharmacist guild's examination. An examination her master Lena had continuously recommended. Passing would allow her to be recognized as a formal herbalist and continue the path of herbalism that Lena had devoted her life to. It was the same method as using Retsu's eligibility as leverage to demand obedience. This time, the hostage was Mira. Retsu held the letter for a long time. The lamp's flame flickered. The city's commotion drifted faintly from beyond the window. The tournament continued. Someone won tonight, someone lost, and eight thousand people watched. Retsu removed his outer gi and placed it on a chair. The night air touched his bare skin. His qi began to move. (Mira is not involved in this.) He understood it in his mind. If Seraphina could act, it would only be through intervention with the pharmacist guild. Her connections to Guild Head Petra Mieze were likely genuine. Seraphina's silver-rank credibility and connections had been proven in Trevia. His fist struck the wall. A dull sound. The stone wall returned the pain. The skin on his palm split, blood seeping out. Retsu looked at his bleeding fist. He looked at it for a while. His emotions surfaced. He had no intention of showing them to anyone. They simply emerged. --- It was deep night. The city's lights had dimmed, and footsteps had vanished from the inn's corridors. The lamp's oil was less than half full. Something moved outside the window. A sound of something traveling along the stone exterior wall. Thin, light. Retsu stood and approached the window. A face appeared outside the window. Pale aquamarine long hair, tousled by the night breeze. Transparent light purple eyes that found Retsu's face and took on a slightly relieved expression. A crescent-shaped tattoo on the left cheek. It was Mira. Soil clung to her knees. She must have fallen somewhere while climbing the exterior wall. Retsu opened the window. "[serious]You did not need to come" Seraphina's mercenaries should have had lookouts posted. Mira must have slipped out during a shift change——but she should have understood how dangerous a gamble that was. Mira gripped the window frame and spoke quietly. "[gentle]I simply could not stand by and watch you carry everything alone" Retsu searched for words to respond. But nothing came. Only a sensation of heat returning to his chest. Mira continued. "[serious]Among Master Lena's belongings——there may be old records related to the flow authentication of the Spiral God Killing Fist" Retsu's eyes narrowed. "Master once entered a ruin deep in a ravine of the Galdrock Mountain Range on a medicinal herb gathering expedition. Among the bundle of manuscripts she brought back, I remembered today that there was a page with a sketch of a spiral crest" The spiral crest of the Spiral God Killing Fist. The symbol of the school founded four hundred years ago by the martial monk Goura Rajin. If Lena's manuscript could function as documentation proving the school's legitimacy, it could become grounds for reapplying to the Combat Festival——and Mira had risked slipping past the mercenary company's surveillance to convey this. A brief silence flowed between them. Retsu looked at Mira's face. Hair of aquamarine tousled by the night breeze, soil on her knees, yet unwavering light purple eyes. The fact that she had braved danger to come this far——Retsu received it quietly, certainly. "[gentle]I am fine, I simply fell" Mira spoke of her knees though Retsu had said nothing. Whether she was naturally oblivious or had read his gaze——it could be taken either way, and it was very much like Mira. Retsu's mouth moved slightly. If one were to name the emotion, it would be close to relief. --- That same night, in a place slightly removed from Trevia's stone pavement——in a back seat of the Red Barrel Tavern, Rud faced Seraphina. The tavern's clamor was distant. The air around the two was different. Seraphina's deep crimson coiled hair was illuminated by the lamp's light. Golden eyes quietly assessed Rud. "You handled today's matter well" It was the voice of someone satisfied with a report. Nothing more. It held no interest whatsoever in what Rud might be feeling. Rud took a sip of ale. (This woman thinks I'm a tool.) He had known. From the beginning, he had known. To Seraphina, Rud was a piece to use in cornering Retsu. She would use him while he had value, and discard him when he was no longer necessary. That was this woman's calculation. "[cold]I told you. If that man becomes isolated, he will surely break" Rud did not answer. What remained in his mind was——Retsu's back in the plaza. He had not taken the bait. Anger had seeped through. His fist had trembled. Yet he had not moved. He had continued to stand outside the engagement distance, not stepping forward, not speaking a word. Bound by the system, yet his posture had not crumbled. (That is not weakness.) Something was catching in Rud's chest. His instinct as a swordsman had sensed something from that back. Was it enough to watch the opponent he wanted to defeat crumble within the net of the system? "[cold]There is no further role for you today. You may leave" "……Yeah" As he stood to leave, Rud turned back to Seraphina once. This woman's objective was to make Retsu hers. She would do anything for that. Rud was her tool. But——she did not understand why Retsu's fist had trembled. When Rud left the Red Barrel Tavern, Trevia's night breeze struck his face. In the distance, lights flickered like the dying embers of a festival. Rud watched those lights for a moment. --- Night was breaking into dawn. The stone pavement slowly reclaimed its outline in the pale gray light. Retsu left his room in the inn. The sealed letter from Seraphina remained on the table. He had not signed it. He had no intention of signing it. (Mira told me about Lena's belongings.) Records related to the flow authentication of the Spiral God Killing Fist. If they existed in Lena's manuscripts, there was a possibility of proving the school's legitimacy in another form. It could become grounds for resubmitting his application. The problem was time. Halnoki Village——three days' walk southeast from Trevia. The remaining days of the Combat Festival were five. The round trip alone would consume the schedule. Using horses could reduce it to one day per direction, but Retsu had neither the funds nor the connections to arrange horses. With Seraphina's power network covering Trevia, any straightforward action would be blocked. Retsu stood on the stone pavement at dawn. He quietly wiped his split right fist with the edge of his white gi. There was pain. But the sensation in his chest was larger than that. Mira had traveled along the exterior wall in the dead of night to reach his window. She had slipped past the mercenary company's surveillance. She had soil on her knees. Yet she had to convey something. (I intended to walk this path alone.) That had been his intention. As a martial artist, he had wandered the continent. He had no need to rely on anyone. He had walked without reason to be protected or to protect anyone. But he was no longer alone. Retsu received this weight——not as a burden, but as the force