The mornings in Levantine were always the same. The outer walls of the Adventurer's Management Bureau, the 'Junro-in,' gleamed white, and the wind blowing from the Aotei River Lucen brushed against Celion Valdera's cheek. Carried on that wind came the distant clamor of the marketplace. Merchants' calls, children's laughter, the clatter of hooves—the sounds of a living city. Celion Valdera climbed the stone steps, letting all of these sounds enter his ears. Forty years. He knew that length in his body. The fine scars on his right hand were memories of sword strikes. The old pain in his left shoulder was a wound from his battle with a fire dragon fifteen years ago. Around his waist, on his knees, along his neck—countless small scars were etched as proof of innumerable battles. On top of that, recently his entire body had grown heavy each morning he woke. Even recovery magic had its limits. Holy-attribute healers were scarce in urban areas, and adventurers had low priority anyway. White hairs had become noticeable in his black short hair. His deep brown eyes remained sharp, but at their depths lay an exhaustion that would not fade, settling like sediment. "Celion Valdera, good morning." The receptionist at the Junro-in recognized him and bowed. The honorific 'sama' in how she addressed him was because he was a Tensai-class adventurer. The highest rank, with only seven active members across the entire continent. Celion Valdera gave a light nod and passed through the reception area. The business sword Calvana at his waist had been sent for repairs countless times already. The blade was chipped noticeably, and the ridge was worn down. It could break at any moment. The receptionist's gaze followed him. What could he possibly want here?—he could feel that unspoken question hanging in the air. Celion Valdera had come here to announce his retirement. No one knew that yet. He knocked on the director's office door, and a voice answered, "Come in." Garessa Windler had once been a Gold-class adventurer. Now sixty-two years old, she served as director of the Junro-in. Her gray eyes looked up at Celion Valdera. "Celion Valdera. How unusual. I thought you hadn't been taking requests recently." "I had something I wanted to discuss." Celion Valdera sat in a chair. The office was filled with stacked adventurer registration ledgers. From beyond the mountain of documents, Garessa leaned forward. "A request? Or is it about that matter of the inverse attribute?" At her words, Celion Valdera's heart wavered for just a moment. The inverse attribute—that was an abnormality that had recently begun occurring in his own body. But he had no intention of discussing that. Garessa's purpose might be something else entirely. The Adventurer's Management Bureau also kept a close watch on any abnormalities related to attributes. "No. It's a different matter." Celion Valdera withdrew a single sheet of paper from his document case. A retirement notice. A white sheet with designated blanks, needing only his signature in the signature field to be complete. Garessa's brows furrowed. "Celion Valdera, surely you don't mean—" "Yes. I'm retiring. I intend to put an end to my forty years of adventurer life here." His voice was calm. But beneath it lay determination. The limits of his body, the exhaustion of his spirit—and above all, a desire to lose no one else, which now dominated his heart. Garessa fell silent, staring at the paper. A long silence stretched between them. "Is it true? The most trusted man among adventurers on this continent?" "Yes. It's enough now. I wish to spend my remaining years in some quiet inn town. I'm considering a place called Mirte. It's a small town, with few fierce magical beasts." Celion Valdera said this. Truly, it would be enough. Peaceful days, untangled from anything. He intended to return Calvana to his homeland as well. He would not let it drink blood anymore. Garessa took the document and fixed him with her gaze. "Do you have a successor? Someone to take over your requests?" "The cooperation of those Gold-class and above should manage it. We'll reduce high-difficulty requests. That's the proper course." Celion Valdera's answer was precise. The responsibility of a Tensai-class adventurer was heavy, but he was stepping back cleanly. Garessa's eyes moved to the signature line. One more stroke, and this man's forty years would come to a close. Celion Valdera withdrew a quill pen from his pocket. He gripped it in his right hand and brought it toward the signature line. His left hand rested on the desk. His palm was visible from beneath the white shirt sleeve. Several fine scars ran across it. Just as he was about to move the pen— Something rose from his right palm. At first, Celion Valdera thought it was an illusion. But what was happening before his eyes was undeniably abnormal. From his palm, something like black mist was rising. Thin, faint, yet certainly present—the aura of a dark attribute. It gradually grew denser, beginning to take form. A blade. A dark-attribute blade materialized above Celion Valdera's right hand. About twenty centimeters long, it radiated a ghostly black light. It was a color that seemed to absorb holy-attribute light. "This is—" Celion Valdera's voice trailed off. The pen fell to the desk. He didn't hear it hit the floor. All the sounds of the world had receded into the distance. Garessa stood up. "Celion Valdera, what is that hand—!" "I... don't understand it myself." Celion Valdera stared intently at his right hand. There was undoubtedly a dark-attribute blade there. But this was not his attribute. He was attribute-less. How could a person without an attribute do such a thing— The blade gradually faded. In less than ten seconds, it had completely dissipated. What remained in his palm was only a strange burning sensation. "Director, this is—" Celion Valdera was beginning to speak when the office door was suddenly thrown open. "Director!" The receptionist burst in, breathless. Her expression was tense. "A report from the Holy City Carentis—the religious city that unites the continent's faith. The priest Zevarlis Claude has performed the forbidden ritual 'Soul-Devouring Liturgy'—a ritual said to release forbidden power by offering living souls—and has been excommunicated by the Holy Cathedral Bureau, the highest religious authority in the Holy City. His current whereabouts are unknown. One of the holy maidens—a woman who serves the Holy Cathedral Bureau and has been granted holy power—is being pursued by him—" The report continued, but Celion Valdera's ears were not taking it in. His right hand still burned with heat. He thought he understood why the black blade had risen. This was no coincidence. He was being drawn into something, some great current. Just before he was about to sign his retirement. The black blade born from his palm—was it a warning, or— Outside the window, the Aotei River Lucen flowed on, as quiet as ever. The forty years of peaceful life he had lived were now, undeniably, beginning to shake.