3

She flew from the northern end of the human realm to the farthest east.

Eastavarieth was the most enigmatic of the four empires, and it was the first time Alice the Integrity Knight had ever visited it—as it was for Amayori, who was born in the west.

A rushing river as blue as lapis rushed between strange, jutting rock formations. When the occasional town or village appeared on its banks, it was built not of the familiar stone as in the north, but mostly of wood.

Nearly all the people who looked up to the sky and pointed at her had black hair. Alice recalled that Vice Commander Fanatio, whom she’d never quite seen eye to eye with, was from this region.

Directly in front, Kirito leaned back against her and stared mutely into the sky as she held the reins. His hair was black, too, so perhaps he was from this area—and maybe an encounter with the people below would even cause him to open up again. But sadly, she had to reach their destination as quickly as possible.

They’d been traveling for three days, setting up camp away from civilization and eating fish Amayori caught nearby and the dried fruit she’d brought along for the trip.

On the afternoon of the second day of the eleventh month, they reached the End Mountains, which looked no different from those in the far north, and a ravine that looked as though the gods themselves had split the range vertically in two.

“…We can see it now, Kirito,” she murmured, brushing the neck of her dragon, who had carried the load over their long journey. Now that most magical beasts had all but vanished from the world, dragons were the creatures with the highest natural life values, but even then, carrying two humans and three Divine Objects had to be a great burden. It seemed to have exhausted all the energy it had stored up from eating fish to its heart’s content for half a year.

She whipped the reins, promising that she’d give her mount its favorite boiled mutton when they reached the camp. Amayori called back and beat its wings powerfully, showing no signs of fatigue.

The ravine looked like just a narrow crack from far away, but as they grew closer, its scale soon became apparent. By her eye, the span of the ravine was nearly a hundred mels. It was certainly wide enough for an army of orcs and ogres to march in standing abreast.

In the grassland surrounding the entrance to the ravine running straight through the rocky mountains, there was a massive camp made up of countless white tents. Smoke from campfires rose here and there, while soldiers engaged in training exercises. Even from the sky, she could see the glint of swinging swords and hear their shouts.

Morale wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, but the total number of soldiers was still abysmally low. By a rough estimate, there couldn’t be as many as three thousand in the camp. Meanwhile, the Dark Territory’s invading army was at least fifty thousand. “Soldier” and “guard” were callings given to only a small fraction of the populace here, but beyond the mountains, everyone who was capable of fighting became a soldier.

It was impossible to imagine that Alice’s presence alone was going to change anything. What kind of defensive strategy was Commander Bercouli envisioning…? As she considered this, Alice urged her dragon past the camp and toward the ravine, which was sinking into darkness.

“I’m sorry, Amayori. Just a bit farther,” she said, and the dragon purred in response, just as the peaks passed in front of the dying light of Solus.

As soon as they entered the ravine, her body was hit by a shiver-inducing cold. The stone walls on either side were so smooth and sheer that they could have been carved only by the gods. She couldn’t find a single blade of grass, much less a living creature, below.

After a few minutes’ flight at slow speed, the trailing mists gave way at last to a gargantuan structure.

“Is this…the Eastern Gate…?”

The towering gray gate was a good three hundred mels from bottom to top. It was shorter than the five-hundred-mel Central Cathedral but every bit as imposing in person.

Most stunning of all was that the two doors of the gate were carved from single slabs of rock, with no parts or fittings. It seemed that such a thing was impossible not just with human hands but even with sacred arts’ ability to harness natural materials. Administrator’s greatest creation was the Everlasting Walls that divided Centoria into four sections, but they were a series of walls, each one being far smaller than this great gate.

The gate had been placed here by the gods from the moment the world began. In order to separate the human realm from the land of darkness—and to lead them to this terrible tragedy some three hundred years later.

“Stop, Amayori,” she commanded the dragon, staring up at the gate from a close distance.

At about two hundred mels up, there was something written across the gray rock of the vast double doors in sacred script. She tried sounding it out.

“De…stroy…at…the last…stage…,” she read from one of the middle lines, but she did not know what the words meant.

Just as she considered this, a terrible sound of destruction filled the air, startling Alice and Amayori. She rubbed the dragon’s neck to calm it down and saw that along the gate, where it had been perfectly smooth before, there was now a narrow crack like a static bolt of black lightning through its surface.

The fissure grew to a length of a few dozen mels before it stopped. A number of pieces of rock peeled off and disappeared into the depths of the ravine. She looked up and examined the massive gate once more. Then she noticed the web of small cracks and fissures over almost the entire surface of the flat rock.

Alice swung the reins and brought her flying mount as close as possible to the gate.

She reached out, hesitant, and traced the mark of Stacia in the air, then struck the surface of the rock. The purple-colored window that appeared listed the maximum and present life values of the Eastern Gate.

The number on the left was the largest of any that she had ever seen—and they were many—at over three million. But the value on the right was just 2,985, less than a thousandth of the total. Even as she stared at it in shock, the number dropped by one.

Sweat on her palms, Alice measured the time until it went down again. From there, she calculated how much time they had until it was totally depleted.

“…Oh no…” She couldn’t believe the answer she arrived at. “Five days…We only have five days left…?”

The gate that had firmly separated the two worlds for over three centuries would crumble to the ground in just five days’ time. Was it even possible?

She thought of Selka’s radiant smile, the craggy features of Old Man Garitta’s face, and the troubled look of her father, Gasfut. It was just days ago that she had driven back the attacking goblins and blocked the cave with ice. She believed this would leave Rulid at peace for the time being.

But if the gate crumbled in five days, and the defending force was unable to stop the invading army of darkness, those bloodthirsty monsters would tear through this land like a flood. Its waves would reach those distant northern lands, too, and swallow the village of Rulid.

“I have to do…something…,” she mumbled to herself, pulling on the reins without realizing what she was doing. Amayori turned away from the crumbling gate and slowly flapped its wings, gaining altitude. When they reached the top portion of the gate, at three hundred mels, she had the dragon hover again.

Beyond the gate there were ravines splitting the mountains, just as there were on this side. But beyond that were not blue sky and green grassland, but bloodred sky and Dark Territory soil that looked more like charred ash.

Alice made to look away from the hideous sight until something caught her eye. From what little she could see of the black earth, there were tiny, flickering flames.

She had Amayori gain altitude so she could look closely. It wasn’t just one light. They were clustered irregularly, not spread evenly, and extended as far as she could see.

They were campfires.

It was a camp. The lead forces of the dark army were waiting in great number, just beyond their reach. Waiting for the moment that the gate fell, and they had a path into the human lands.

“Five…days…,” she mumbled again, voice hoarse.

Then she turned the dragon around. If she kept staring at the sea of campfires, she was going to be consumed with fear and rush among them to fight on her own.

She knew that against simple goblin and orc foot soldiers, she could easily dispatch a hundred or two of them and return safely. But if they had ogre archers or a contingent of dark mages, it would not be nearly so simple.

Even an Integrity Knight with the might of a thousand was still just one person. She would not remain unharmed by ranged attacks from the rear, where sword techniques and sacred arts would not reach, and a sufficient number of small injuries would still eventually prove to be fatal. That was what Commander Bercouli had feared for so many years: the greatest weakness of the Integrity Knights and thus of humanity’s protection itself.

Administrator, who had demanded that their power be concentrated into an elite group of individuals, was now dead, and the weapons and armor gathering dust in the cathedral had already been distributed to the impromptu defensive army. But the time they had remaining was far too short. If only they had ten thousand and a full year to prepare…

Alice sighed, cutting off that fruitless line of thought, and ordered Amayori into a descent.

The guardian force’s camp had a large empty space left in the center. Based on the extra-large tents adjacent to it, this was clearly where the dragons were meant to land and take flight.

Amayori circled around as they descended, and before the beast’s claws had even brushed the green, it was stretching its neck toward the tents and gurgling with excitement.

An emotional response came right away—that would be Takiguri, Amayori’s brother. Once the dragon came to a stop, Alice picked up Kirito, hopped down to the grass, and removed the heavy bags from the dragon’s legs. Amayori promptly plodded toward the tent and began rubbing against the neck of the other dragon, who popped its head out from under the thick fabric.

Alice found herself smiling at the sight, then heard footsteps approaching from the other direction and hastily made her expression neutral. She straightened out the hem of her simple skirt and pulled her wind-bedraggled hair behind her head.

But before she even turned around, a familiar man’s voice rang out across the landing area.

“Alice, my mentor! I always believed in you!”

Sliding across the grass into her view was the Integrity Knight with whom she’d just shared a drink ten days ago, Eldrie Synthesis Thirty-One. Despite being in a camp, his wavy lilac hair and shining armor were both utterly spotless.

“…You seem well,” Alice noted drily, which did not dissuade Eldrie from his state of bliss—but he froze in the act of saying something.

He had noticed the black-haired youth Alice was supporting with her left arm. One cheek tensed, and he drew his head back in a show of disbelief. “You…brought him here?” he groaned. “Why?”

Alice arched her back to the best of her ability. “Of course I did. I swore an oath to protect him.”

“B-but…when the battle comes, we Integrity Knights must stand at the front line at all times. What will you do with him while you are exchanging blows with the enemy? You cannot bear him on your back, surely.”

“If necessary, I will.”

Alice drew her foot back, trying to keep Kirito’s gaunt, limp body away from Eldrie’s skeptical gaze. But other soldiers at rest and lower Integrity Knights were gathering in small groups around the landing area, glancing inquisitively at the way Alice and Kirito stood together.

As a swell of murmurs rose around them, Eldrie issued a sharp rebuttal. “You mustn’t, Mentor! If you’ll permit my forwardness, heading into battle with so much extra weight will not only reduce your ability to fight, it will surely expose you to greater danger! In the coming battle, you will have to…”

He paused, then gestured to the other soldiers in the area with a shining silver gauntlet. “You have a duty to lead them into combat! How can you choose not to make use of every last bit of your strength?!”

He was right. But she couldn’t just admit that it was so. Alice ground her teeth together, trying to find the right words to explain how both fighting for the realm and protecting Kirito were equally important to her.

But at the same time, her disciple’s impassioned argument startled her.

Compared to their time in Central Cathedral, when Alice was teaching him to use the sword, he was clearly different now. At the time, Eldrie had practically worshipped Alice, and he’d never once talked back or argued with anything she told him.

The people of this world were given a secret seal in the right eye from the mysterious “God from beyond” that made them unable to disobey any order from the law or a higher being. As far as Alice knew, she and Eugeo, the late owner of the Blue Rose Sword, were the only ones to successfully break that hold. Even Administrator and Cardinal, who were practically gods themselves, had been unable to defy the seal.

Eldrie must still be under its influence. But though he didn’t clearly disobey anything she said, he was no longer blindly obedient as he once was. He was thinking for himself and offering his own opinion.

And it was most likely Kirito—and Eugeo—who had brought about this change in him.

The two swordsmen, proud despite being the world’s greatest rebels, had found a way to shake Eldrie’s soul in a powerful way through their momentary encounter.

Now that she considered it, her sister, Selka, back in Rulid also complained constantly about the stubbornness of the old-fashioned village rules and the ideas of the influential members of town. There were also the two female students who’d approached when Alice had taken Kirito and Eugeo from North Centoria Imperial Swordcraft Academy. Young girls like them would never dare to hail an Integrity Knight.

Of course, Alice herself was part of that list.

Until she fought Kirito and fell partway down the exterior of the cathedral, she had never held the slightest doubt about the structure of the world, the church’s power, or the infallible holiness of its pontifex.

But when she was forced to accept a truce and work with him to climb the walls and escape their peril, Kirito continually shook Alice with his words, his sword, and his pitch-black eyes—until she was finally able to break through the seal in her eye…

Kirito was like a hammer swung down to smash a world full of false harmony. With the power hidden in his soul, he made the world tremble and quake, and he had finally succeeded in smashing the huge old rusted nail at the center of it all named the Axiom Church. The price he paid was the lives of his friend Eugeo and the wise sage Cardinal—and even his own heart and mind…

Alice clutched the thin body she was supporting with her left arm. She stared directly back into Eldrie’s eyes.

She wanted to tell him. To say, You’re only who you are now because you fought him. But he would not understand, of course. To the knighthood, Kirito was still an unforgivable traitor and heretic.

Alice just stood there in silence. Eldrie had a face like he was suffering some kind of dull pain. He was about to say something further when the gathering crowd suddenly parted, as though a giant invisible fist pushed them apart.

What emerged from its midst was a voice that was so nostalgic it nearly brought tears to Alice’s eyes but also set her on a painful, nervous edge.

“Don’t get so worked up, Eldrie.”

The young knight promptly straightened up. Alice looked away from him and turned to face the speaker.

He wore a loose, eastern-style outfit that opened in front. A wide sash tied around his midsection at a low point. On his left hip was a simple longsword that had been thrust carelessly into his belt. And on both of his feet were odd wooden shoes.

Compared to the knights and soldiers around him, he was dressed very lightly. But the pressure that emanated from his perfectly chiseled body was thicker and heavier than any armor.

The man rubbed at his short-cropped hair, a faded blue color that matched his clothes, and smirked. “Yo, little lady. You look better than I feared. I’m glad. Have your cheeks filled in a little bit?”

“…It has been too long, Uncle,” Alice said, doing her best to fight back tears. She saluted the world’s oldest and most powerful swordsman—commander of the Integrity Knights, Bercouli Synthesis One.

In the six years she’d lived as an Integrity Knight, this was the one person whom Alice had opened her heart to, revered as a mentor, and considered a father figure. And he was also the only person—aside from Kirito—whom she was certain she could never beat in a sword battle.

She couldn’t let him see her cry now.

If Bercouli said that she couldn’t leave Kirito here, she would have to obey him. Of course, in her present state, Alice was not forced to obey his commands. But if she defied him in front of this crowd, it would threaten the order of the knighthood and the guardian army. With the final battle approaching in just five days, she couldn’t afford even the tiniest scratch on Bercouli’s ability to lead.

Bercouli gazed upon her—his all-seeing eyes full of understanding and a smile of simple kindness on his lips as he approached. He looked her straight in the eyes, then gave her a forceful nod.

Eldrie was about to say something, but the commander silenced him with a look, then faced Kirito where he hung in Alice’s arms.

His lips pursed. There were pale fires glowing in his piercing eyes.

Bercouli sucked in a long, slow breath. Alice could sense the air around them getting colder.

“…Uncle…,” she whispered, barely audible.

Bercouli was focusing his sword spirit. He was going to utilize an Incarnation technique taught only to Integrity Knights…something that surpassed even Incarnate Arms. The ability to move objects with the power of the heart—this was an Incarnate Sword.

He would infuse his blade with the power of concentrated will and unleash it. At times, that invisible blade could even deflect the actual blades of the enemy. The commander’s Time-Splitting Sword, with its Perfect Weapon Control ability to cut into the future, was possible only because of the overwhelming power of his will.

So was Bercouli going to attack Kirito?

If he was literally planning to cut this problem in half, she could not allow it. She would have to draw her sword to protect Kirito, if need be.

Overwhelmed by the extreme power in Commander Bercouli’s sword, the nearby soldiers, Eldrie, and even the dragons at the tent fell silent. With the air so heavy that breathing felt difficult, Alice worked her hardest to move the fingers of her right hand.

But before she could touch the hilt of her sword, Bercouli’s lips moved, and she heard a voice that was more mental than spoken.

It’s all right, young lady.

“…?!” Alice held her breath.

Then, without budging a muscle, Bercouli’s eyes unleashed a fearsome flash of light. In the same moment, Kirito’s body jerked and twitched in her arms.

There was a sharp ting! and a silver flash in the air between Bercouli and Kirito.

What was that?! Alice wondered, gasping with shock. But Bercouli was already wearing a broad smile. It was as though that display of ferocity had never happened.

“U-Uncle…?” she stammered. But the commander merely rubbed his chin with his fingers like they had just finished a practice exercise.

“Did you see that, young lady?”

“I…I did. Just for an instant…but it looked like…the glint of a swordfight…”

“Indeed. I hurled an Incarnate Sword at him—well, more like a dagger. If it hit him, it would’ve at least cut the skin of his cheek.”

“If…it hit him? Meaning…?”

“That’s right—he caught it. With his own willpower.”

She couldn’t help but crane her neck to glance at Kirito, whom she was still cradling.

But her hopes were dashed at once. The only thing in his half-open black eyes was empty darkness. There was no expression on his face.

But I felt his body twitch. I felt it.

She brushed his hair with her free hand and looked back to Bercouli. The commander just shook his head. “Seems like his mind is elsewhere,” he said firmly, “but he’s not dead. Listen: He was trying to protect you, young lady, not himself. So he will return someday. That’s what I think. And it will probably be whenever you really need him most.”

Alice had to work twice as hard as before to keep the tears from blurring her vision.

Yes. He will come back.

Kirito is…Well, he’s the greatest swordsman in the world. With his two swords, he defeated that half-godly being.

Come back…not for me. For the sake of all the people who live in this world…

Then she couldn’t take it anymore, and she clutched Kirito tight in her arms. Over her back, the commander’s understanding voice explained, “And that’s why, Eldrie. Don’t get hung up on the little things. We can look after one young fellow, easy.”

“B-but…” With admirable spirit, the newest of the Integrity Knights spoke his mind openly to the oldest. “I can see how even the slightest bit of increased strength might help. But in this situation…even if he returns to normal, I cannot see how a student with a sword will make any difference…”

“Are you kidding?” Bercouli asked. While his smile was warm, it also had the edge of a blade itself. “Have you forgotten? That boy’s partner bested me in a fight. He beat Bercouli Synthesis One, commander of the Integrity Knights.”

The air around them went abruptly silent.

“That boy by the name of Eugeo was powerful…Unbelievably so. I even used the Perfect Control arts of the Time-Splitting Sword—and I still lost. Just the way that you lost and Deusolbert lost and Fanatio lost.”

At last, Eldrie seemed to have lost his tongue. Of course he had—there couldn’t be a swordsman who could defeat Bercouli in a one-on-one duel, not among the knighthood or in the Dark Territory beyond the gate. It was what everyone in the Axiom Church believed.

But in that sense, wasn’t this a very dangerous thing to admit?

Commander Bercouli had put together this rushed, impromptu defensive army on the strength of his reputation as the greatest warrior alive. But by telling everyone about Eugeo, a swordsman who had defeated him—and claiming that Kirito was Eugeo’s equal in skill…

Alice was just regaining the strength to look at him again when Bercouli’s head snapped up toward the sky.

“U-Uncle…?” she prompted. His reply changed the subject in the most unexpected of ways.

“Very far away, I sensed a swell in the spirit of someone’s blade before it disappeared a moment later…Someone I know has just died…”