I Pulled Out the Excalibur

“Wouldn’t it be more balanced if you all came at once?”

Najin’s words were a clear provocation, and Phileon, the knight who had stepped forward, responded. He was the knight who had been kicked by Najin and slammed into a wall before.

The humiliation he had endured in front of his master.

Phileon had not forgotten that humiliation. It was a blow allowed by his own carelessness. If they fought again, the outcome would be different. He truly believed that if he faced Najin with a sword in a proper place, he wouldn’t be defeated so easily…

Denying, not enduring, was how he chose to protect his pride.

And of course, that was the worst of choices. Phileon had been given several clues to understand the situation properly.

First, Najin’s mana manipulation speed was unusual. Second, his physical abilities were extraordinary. Third, there were rumors that Najin had survived a clash with the knight commander of Arbenia.

However, Phileon denied what he had seen, dismissed the rumors as false, and ignored the information he could have considered. It was a mistake born out of a knight’s pride and stubbornness.

“You’re incredibly insolent.”

Phileon approached Najin with a grim expression. From the beginning, he held his sword, drew his sword aura, and circulated mana in his body, standing at the forefront beyond his glaring comrades.

“The knight of Arbenia seems quite weak…”
“You talk too much.”

Interrupting Phileon, Najin threw his sword into the air. It was a bizarre act to let go of his sword in front of an opponent who had drawn his sword aura. Before Phileon could guess the meaning of this action, Najin stepped forward.

The longsword spinning in the air. Najin stepping forward. Phileon thrusting his sword at Najin.

Rather than understanding Najin’s odd behavior, Phileon aimed to attack the approaching Najin. Phileon swung his sword at Najin, intending not to kill him in a duel but not minding if his sword drew blood.

Swoosh!

Phileon swung his sword, using Imperial Swordsmanship. The longsword, swung in a clean trajectory, aimed for Najin’s shoulder. It was a sufficient strike to slice through an unprotected opponent who hadn’t even drawn his sword…

That’s what Phileon thought.

Denial, not acceptance. Ignoring, not acknowledging. Thus, he chose the wrong answer, the worst of the wrong answers. Naturally, choosing the wrong answer in a duel does not come lightly.

Thud.

The cleanly swinging sword stopped in its tracks. The reason was Najin’s casually extended left hand, which had grabbed Phileon’s hands holding the sword hilt. Phileon’s eyes widened as he tried to move his arms, but they wouldn’t budge.

“What kind of strength…!”

Phileon’s captured hands screamed. Phileon’s brows furrowed. Just as he thought to kick Najin and create some distance, Najin was already moving.

Crack.

Najin kicked Phileon’s knee. With a snapping sound, Phileon’s knee bent inward. Sparks flew in Phileon’s eyes, and unable to stand any longer, he knelt down. His posture lowered, and naturally, Phileon found himself looking up at Najin.

With his hands captured and a knee brought to the ground.

Now, the one left defenseless was not Najin but himself. Phileon realized this too late. Once again, sparks flew in his vision, but this time the pain came from his face, not his knee.

“Cough…?”

It was a questioning groan. Blood spurted out. The blood was coming from his nose. Phileon frowned at the sharp pain on the bridge of his nose, belatedly understanding what had happened.

With his left hand, he had pinned down both of Phileon’s hands. With his right fist clenched, he was striking Phileon’s face.

Crack, crack, crack… Phileon’s vision flickered several times. His head was repeatedly jerked back and then returned forward with each punch from Najin, causing blood to spray from his face.

The watching knights widened their eyes, and Agesio, Phileon’s master, gasped.

What Najin was displaying was not a duel. It was certainly not a sword fight. It was a one-sided assault. At some point, Najin had let go of Phileon’s hands, but Phileon didn’t even think to swing his sword.

His eyes had already lost their clarity.

Only then did Najin stop his fists, grabbing Phileon by the hair to meet his gaze. Najin’s longsword, which had been thrown into the air at the start of the duel, finally came down and stuck in the ground with a thud.

“Are you done?”

This is a duel. Until one side admits defeat, the duel does not end. The moment Phileon met Najin’s cold eyes, he finally understood.

There was no special meaning in Najin throwing his sword upward at the start. It was simply a statement.

I don’t even need a sword to deal with you.

Phileon felt humiliated by this realization. But more than humiliation, he felt fear. In Najin’s eyes looking down at him, Phileon sensed a chill. By lowering his head, Phileon responded without words.

Agesio’s servants dragged Phileon away, and Najin silently watched him and his escort knights. Najin’s gaze spoke volumes. Who’s next? If they still wanted to come at him one by one, he wouldn’t stop them.

…The knights weighed their options.

Revenge for personal pride or for the honor of Arbenia. Those loyal to Arbenia chose the latter. The remaining four knights stepped forward simultaneously. Only then did Najin draw his sword from the ground.

A white sword aura bloomed around the drawn sword.

Some say the difference between a martial artist who has awakened a fragment of their heart’s imagery and one who hasn’t is stark. This isn’t just about sword aura. Awakening one’s heart’s imagery is a process of solidifying the soul.

Your own landscape. Your own color. Your own mana.

Over the years, humanity has built up much. All martial arts eventually become imitations, and truly new things have become rare, but heart’s imagery remains always new, unique, and original.

It’s something that belongs solely to oneself, not imitated from anything else.

Only those who are true to themselves can possess it. This firm belief influences the flow of both the body and mana. It means the soul is colored, and mana takes on special forms and properties.

Again, to say.

The difference between a martial artist who has touched even a fragment of their heart’s imagery and one who hasn’t is stark. Najin, who was unmatched as a Sword Expert from the beginning, had now awakened a fragment of his heart’s imagery…

“Cough, cough…”
“Ugh, uweeek!”

Terrain, special conditions, first strike, grappling techniques.
Even in a straightforward duel without these factors, Najin could overpower multiple Experts. Proof of this lay before Najin’s eyes.

Knights clutching their stomachs and falling to the ground, fingers snapped and knees shattered.

While a priest’s aid could heal such injuries, they were not minor enough for immediate combat readiness. Unlike the fallen knights, Najin only had minor scratches.

“…How is this possible?”

Agesio of Arbenia, who had witnessed the entire event, had his eyes shaking. It was unbelievable, even though he saw it with his own eyes. He had never heard of an Expert who could take on four knights at once and subdue them.

He must be at least at the level of a Sword Seeker.

The rumors that had recently been circulating around Agesio were about the adventurer in front of him, who had allegedly withstood a fight against the knight commander of the Arbenian ducal family. Agesio had considered those rumors to be exaggerated.

It was a natural assumption.

After all, if the formidable Sir Griffin had been serious, there wouldn’t have been a fight to begin with. Agesio had assumed that Griffin arrived late or that the knights of Trebache had joined from the beginning.

“But…”

Five knights lay defeated.
Especially since one was subdued barehanded. Seeing such a dire state, it couldn’t just be dismissed as a rumor.

Agesio looked at the adventurer before him.
Najin, too, was looking at Agesio.

Agesio felt a chill in those eyes. He staggered backward. At that moment, without anyone left to protect him, Agesio realized he was alone, facing an adventurer who wouldn’t adhere to noble etiquette.

“Stop, stop it.”

Fear was what he felt.
“Stop, I command you!”

But Najin didn’t stop, despite Agesio’s loud protests. Eventually, Agesio stumbled over a stone and fell to the ground, no longer able to flee. As he looked up at Najin, his eyes were shaking.

“Do you know who I am…?”
“I’m not interested in who you are.”

Najin leaned down to meet Agesio’s gaze.

“I’m giving you a warning.”

His amber eyes glinted.
Like the eyes of a beast.

“Don’t speak lightly of honor and pride. They’re not light enough for someone like you to talk about.”

With those words, Najin stood up. He left the fallen knights and Agesio behind and walked away. As the sound of his footsteps faded, Agesio gasped for breath and bowed his head.

A sense of relief that it was over.

And the humiliation of having felt fear in front of a mere adventurer.

Both feelings coexisted as Agesio clenched his teeth, forced to acknowledge his complete defeat and failure.

Click.

The sound of footsteps made Agesio look up. Dieta was approaching him. She stood before Agesio with an expressionless face and then smiled down at him.

“What a mess, Lord Agesio.”
“Don’t look down on me. A disgrace to the family…”
“Lord, I am no longer affiliated with the Arbenian family. I have no reason to endure such insults.”

Dieta cut him off.
She had completed the process of changing her family name at the Trebache dukedom. She was no longer Dieta Arbenia but a merchant of Cambria.

“Lord, you challenged my escort and me to a duel and lost. There are plenty of witnesses to this spectacle, so no need for further proof.”

She smiled as she gestured around them. The place Agesio had chosen to humiliate Najin and Dieta had now become a stage for his own greater humiliation.

“The victor has rights.”

She whispered.

“And the loser has consequences.”

The snake’s eyes glinted.
The yellow snake’s eyes half-opened.

“That’s what a duel is. Even a mere merchant knows this common sense, so surely the great Lord of Arbenia wouldn’t be unaware.”

So,

“Let’s talk about the consequences you must bear.”

Duels are for knights, but the consequences and collection are for merchants. Dieta had no intention of letting this easy prey go. After all, shaking him down would spill a fortune in gold coins.

The gold-swallowing snake smiled.

“…What is this?”
“Your share, what else?”

In the office of Dieta’s company,
Najin pointed to the hefty purse and various documents laid before him, looking puzzled. Dieta, with a smile still on her lips, explained.

“The consequences of the duel. See, a little shake and everything comes pouring out. How thankful.”

The spoils from Agesio.
Laughing softly, Dieta seemed fully back to her merchant self.

“Anyway.”

Dieta took a long breath as she looked around the office of her trading company, which she had missed, even if just a little, during her time away.

“I’m back here again.”

It felt like coming home.
The staff of the trading company also breathed a sigh of relief when Dieta returned, and Pasion, who had been guarding the office, even broke down in tears.

It’s truly a relief…

Recalling the time it took to calm Pasion down and send him off to wash his face, Dieta smiled bitterly.

“Give me your coat. I’ll have it mended for you.”

Dieta pointed at the coat Najin was wearing.
Made from the hide of a blood troll, it was durable enough not to tear easily… But considering the opponents Najin had fought, it was natural for it to be in tatters.

“I’ll pay back the debt slowly, so look forward to it. You’ll receive more than you ever expected.”
“I wasn’t looking to receive anything…”
“I know. You were just keeping a promise. If it makes you uncomfortable to receive it, think of it as an investment.”
“If you say so.”

As Najin responded, Dieta paused for a moment and then shut her mouth. Her title had returned to ‘trading company owner’. Somehow, it felt a little disappointing. She was technically back to being the owner, but it felt like drawing a line.

‘Come to think of it…’

Has he ever called me by my name?
She thought hard but couldn’t recall a time. Najin naturally respected others and never casually used someone’s name.

She didn’t dislike his personality.
Not really.

But somehow, she wanted to be called by her name by him. It was embarrassing to say it out loud, so Dieta thought of a clever way.

“Hey, how about…”

In the office, with just the two of them,
Dieta looked at Najin and cautiously spoke.

“Shall we drop the formalities?”
“…Pardon?”
“Let’s speak informally. We don’t seem to have much age difference.”
“I’m eight years older.”
“That’s a fake age.”
“……”
“See! It is a fake age.”

Dieta tapped the table with her palms as Najin averted his gaze slightly.

“Don’t tell me, you’re younger than me?”
“……”
“Wait, are you really younger than me?”

Seeing Najin avoid her gaze, Dieta let out a long breath. Technically, Najin was 18 and Dieta was 20, but she had no way of knowing that.

“No…?”
“Let’s just consider it about the same. Eight years isn’t much of a difference.”
“You’re really sticking to that story, huh.”

Dieta sighed and spoke again.

“Let’s just speak informally anyway.”
“…Do we really need to?”
“Yes. It would be even better if you call me by my name.”

After a moment of hesitation, Najin sighed and finally spoke.

“Dieta.”

Dieta’s shoulders jerked.

“Is this how it’s supposed to be when we drop the formalities?”
“Uh, um…”

Dieta fumbled with her words.
Her face flushed red, and her eyes darted around, lost.

“Let’s, let’s save the informal speech for later.”
“…Why the sudden change?”
“I, just being called by my name is enough for now.”
“If that’s what you prefer…”
“Take care on your way home. I have a lot of work to do, so…”

Dieta mumbled in a barely audible voice, her head bowed low. Najin tilted his head, puzzled, and reached for the doorknob. As he opened the door, he ran into Pasion, who had just returned.

“Oh, leaving already? We could’ve talked a bit more…”

Pasion was about to start a conversation with Najin when he saw his master, her ears red to the tips, head bowed.

…Pasion silently looked back and forth between Dieta and Najin.

The strange atmosphere. The peculiar mood. Pasion broke into a cold sweat. He was not an oblivious knight. A thought of ‘could it be’ flashed through his mind.

“…The talking can wait for another time. Be careful on your way.”

Pasion stepped aside to let Najin pass.
It seemed his master, who appeared a bit unsettled, might need a moment to herself.