The light of dawn slowly stained the cobblestones of Trevia. Retsu left the sealed letter from Seraphina on the table in his inn room without signing it. He had no intention of signing it. The face of Mira that had appeared outside the window last night, climbing along the outer wall, still lingered in his mind. Kneeling with dirt on her knees, yet those pale violet eyes never wavering. Among the belongings left by his teacher Rena, there might be records of the Spiral God Killing Fist. That single statement had determined his actions for today. The morning market was still in the midst of preparation, with stall goods beginning to pile up in the gaps between cobblestones. Retsu headed toward the Trevia Pharmacists' Guild headquarters—a stone building on the north bank of the Elda River, whose location he had memorized since arriving in Trevia. When he knocked on the guild's door, a young clerk answered. When Retsu requested an audience with Guild Master Petra Mieze, the clerk hesitated for a moment before showing him in. The office was orderly. One wall lined with herb specimens and document shelves. Guild Master Petra Mieze was a woman in her fifties with white-streaked hair tied back, regarding Retsu from behind her glasses. There was something in her eyes from the start. Not welcome—something closer to guilt. Retsu began speaking. He wanted to send a messenger to Haruki Village through the guild's routes. He wanted to obtain copies of his teacher Rena's belongings. The materials might include documentation related to the Spiral God Killing Fist's school authentication. Petra spoke quietly without looking up from her documents. "[cold]The guild is a neutral institution. We cannot accept personal requests from individual martial artists." Her voice lacked conviction. The voice of someone without confidence in their own words. As Retsu listened, he understood that Seraphina had moved last night. "[serious]I understand." He spoke briefly and left the office. There was no anger. He had anticipated this path being blocked from the beginning. The problem was the next move. Standing on the stone steps outside the guild, feeling the morning breeze, Retsu heard footsteps behind him. A familiar gait. Unhesitating. "[sarcastic]Got turned away at the gate by Petra?" Rud stood at the bottom of the steps. Silver hair with black and red streaks. An eye patch over his left eye. His hand rested nowhere near the hilt of his single-edged sword at his waist. Retsu looked at Rud. "What do you want?" "[serious]I spoke with Seraphina last night at the Red Barrel Tavern." Rud climbed two steps and stood level with Retsu. His red eyes looked directly at him. "That woman was only thinking about using me to corner you. When she provoked you through me, I was watching her face. She was smiling with satisfaction." Retsu said nothing. Rud continued. "[serious]It's true that I want to defeat you. But—if you're crushed inside someone else's trap, there's no meaning in me winning. As a swordsman, I couldn't accept that." Retsu looked at Rud's face. Not provocation or calculation. This was the sincerity of a swordsman. "[serious]You need a messenger to Haruki Village, right? If you use the name of my father—Vald Ashbal—from the Ashbal Sword Arts Dojo, I can arrange a trustworthy courier and horses. It's a day's journey from Trevia to the village." Retsu was silent for several seconds. Until now, he had walked alone. He had never needed to borrow someone's hand or bow his head to anyone. But now, on these stone steps, a man named Rud Ashbal was extending his hand. Retsu quietly bowed his head. "[serious]I'm asking for your help." Rud's eyes narrowed slightly. Perhaps he was surprised. But his expression showed something like approval. "[sarcastic]...You've created a debt, Amagi." "I understand." --- That same morning, Mira had rushed out of the inn. The news had spread quickly. Seraphina had approached Petra at the pharmacists' guild, and procedures were underway to revoke Mira's examination eligibility. Mira clutched the leather bag she had inherited from her teacher Rena and ran across the cobblestones. Her pale blue hair was tousled by the wind. The crescent-shaped tattoo on her left cheek caught the morning light. There were still faint traces of dirt on her knees from last night. Mira knocked on the guild headquarters door herself. "I'd like to meet with Guild Master Petra. I'm Mira Narasa. An examination applicant." The clerk looked troubled. But since Mira's eyes didn't waver, he had no choice but to show her in. In Petra's office, Mira took documents from her leather bag and laid them out on the desk. A record book of herb collection. Documentation of compounding achievements. A bundle of records that her teacher Rena had built up over ten years. "[serious]This is my teacher Rena's teachings. And this is the record of what I have learned up to now." Her voice trembled slightly. But her eyes didn't waver. "I have not created grounds for revoking my examination eligibility. If there is a reason to cancel my qualification, could you tell me after looking at these documents?" Petra looked at the documents. A long silence flowed. The sounds of morning Trevia drifted in through the office window. A bell rang somewhere. (I'm scared) Mira's hand gripped the edge of the desk slightly harder. Seraphina's golden eyes shone in last night's memory. That person is serious. She can actually carry out the approach to the guild master, the revocation of eligibility—all of it. But—last night, that person climbed the outer wall with her own feet. She slipped past the mercenary company's sentries because there was something she had to tell Retsu. (I'll create my own place to stand beside that person) Petra sighed. She removed her glasses and closed her eyes. Then she ran her pen across the documents, signing them. "[gentle]...I recognize your examination eligibility. The test schedule remains unchanged." Mira bowed lightly. "Thank you very much." When she descended the guild's stone steps, the morning light shone straight down. She hadn't been protected by anyone. With her own hands, she had protected her own place. That sensation melted together with her feelings for Retsu in her chest, becoming warm. --- At dusk, the horse that Rud had arranged returned. A courier arrived in front of the white-walled inn and handed Retsu a bundle of books tied with leather cord. The belongings of Rena, the old herb gatherer of Haruki Village—part of them. Retsu and Rud sat side by side in a room of the inn, examining the copies one page at a time. Records of herb collection continued. Compounding instruction manuals. Maps of collection sites. As they turned through the pages, their hands stopped at a single piece of parchment. On yellowed paper, a spiral crest was drawn. Ancient script characters surrounded it. Retsu's finger slowly traced over those characters. The voice of his grandfather reading to him like a bedtime story in his childhood returned from the depths of his ears. The resonance of ancient language sounds. Meaning and words gradually overlapped. "[surprised]...What is this?" "A founding declaration of the Spiral God Killing Fist school. It includes records of successor inheritance." Retsu's voice was quiet. But his fingertips trembled slightly. Goura Rajin, the founder—the words written four hundred years ago by a martial monk who had perfected his fist, marking the beginning of the school. This document, written before the Great Chaos, was proof that the Spiral God Killing Fist had existed and a primary source demonstrating the school's legitimacy. How Rena had obtained and copied it was unknown. But now it was in Retsu's hands. That night, Retsu stormed into the organizing committee's building. There were three committee members. He spread the parchment on the desk and, while providing oral supplementation about the document's provenance, applied for re-entry into the final special match. The committee members exchanged glances. Their expressions showed reluctance, saying they couldn't immediately verify the document's authenticity. Then Rud entered. He took up the application form and added his own name. "[serious]As the heir of Vald Ashbal, master of the Ashbal Sword Arts Dojo, I apply jointly. In the name of a school with one hundred fifty years of history, I support this application." One committee member's expression changed. The name Vald Ashbal carried weight in Trevia. An elder committee member reviewed the documents and spoke briefly. "We recognize your entry as a special match tomorrow morning." The alley outside was dark. The cobblestones held the night's chill. Retsu stood alone for a moment, quietly clenching his fist. The name Spiral God Killing Fist was written into official records for the first time tonight. The name of the school his grandfather had spent his life protecting. The spiral energy within his fist continued to rotate quietly. --- On the final morning of the Martial Arts Festival, the air in Trevia's arena was different. The heat of eight thousand people swirled within the stone walls of the circular amphitheater. Both the general seating for five silver coins and the premium seats for two gold coins were completely filled. Word had spread about the special match—a martial artist whose eligibility had been revoked but who had been re-admitted through documentary evidence, facing the next generation candidate of Ashbal Sword Arts. Retsu removed his upper garment in the arena's corridor. White cloth fell from his shoulders, and bare skin touched the open air. The law of the Spiral God Killing Fist—exposing the skin to draw energy from the entire body, heightening power and sensation. He could feel the spectators' gazes converge all at once. In contrast, Rud drew his single-edged sword and took his stance. His silver hair with black and red streaks caught the arena's light. The red eye beneath his eye patch looked steadily at Retsu. "[serious]Give it everything. That's why I lent you my hand." "[serious]You should already know I will." The match began. Rud's first step was half a beat faster than Retsu's prediction. The "collapse" technique of Ashbal Sword Arts—striking the opponent's center of gravity with the heavy single-edged sword to break their stance—came at Retsu's right side. Retsu stepped back and opened his body, deflecting the sword's trajectory. Second strike, third strike. Rud's attacks showed no mercy. Each time the sword wind brushed his bare skin, external air and energy intermingled across his entire body. His senses sharpened. The spiral energy within him increased its rotation. "[cold]Still not enough." Rud stepped in low. The collapse sword aimed at Retsu's left shoulder. Retsu saw it. Inside the sword—a slight gap within the arm holding Rud's blade. He concentrated all the spiral energy throughout his body. Gathered it in his right fist. Everything into one point. He stepped in. BOOM!! Retsu's fist drove into the inside of Rud's sword arm, and the spiral energy detonated. The sword flew into the air and clattered against the stone. Rud's body was blown backward, and he dropped to one knee. A moment of silence. Then—eight thousand people erupted simultaneously. "Spira Rajin—the user of the Spiral God Killing Fist has won!!" The shout came from somewhere in the spectator section. That name echoed through the stone amphitheater. Rud caught his breath and slowly looked up. Then he gave Retsu a short nod. The gesture of a swordsman's acknowledgment—economical and precise. "[serious]...Still not enough. Next time, I'll come with more resolve." "[serious]I'm waiting." In the general seating, Mira had stood up. Joy and pride and something far greater overflowed, and tears fell from her eyes. When the name Spiral God Killing Fist echoed through the arena, that word expanded wi