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There were those who glanced as they passed by, and others who openly stared at him. Each gaze carried its own emotions: admiration, awe, jealousy…

Perhaps it was because he had defeated the Winter Witch, as that idiot from before had mentioned. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it felt a bit overwhelming. Ronan raised his middle finger toward a man who was glaring at him as if he was the enemy of his parents.

“What are you looking at, you hairy bastard.”

“Eek!”

The man recoiled, lowering his eyes. Come to think of it, there was no sign of Darman, the guy who was supposed to deliver the goods. Of course, with so many people around, it wasn’t hard to lose sight of someone.

Ronan soon arrived at the square. Navirose and Shullifen were still standing in the same spot, engaged in casual conversation. They were really heavy-legged people.

“I’m here.”

“Right on time. I heard screams coming from the direction you went. What happened?”

“Some crazy bastard suddenly started taking off his clothes on the street. Down to his underwear.”

“What a spectacle.”

Navirose raised an eyebrow as if finding it amusing. Shullifen, who had been silently listening, murmured slowly. Suddenly, the words of that guy, Pashadone or whatever his name was, came to mind. Ronan tapped his shoulder and spoke.

“You need to work harder. I feel like I’ve taken too much from you.”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“There’s something like that. After we return to Phileon, you and I…”

“May I have your attention, please?”

Ronan was about to continue speaking, but he was interrupted by a loud voice. His slightly hoarse voice echoed through the square. People gathered in the square turned their heads.

“What’s going on?”

“Yes, everyone, thank you for gathering here.”

An elderly man with wrinkled skin stood on the platform in front. He looked pitiful, supporting himself with a staff that doubled as a longsword. Each step seemed laborious. Navirose raised her brows in interest.

“Ho-ho… It seems there’s something going on. The fact that this old man came out in person.”

“Who is that?”

“Allogin. One of the seven elders who manage the Holy Land of Parzan. He once even reached the position of a Sword Master.”

“What the fuck, a Sword Master?”

Ronan’s eyes widened. It was a background that far exceeded his expectations. Now, even if he were to be shot and killed by an arrow, it would probably be considered a natural death. Allogin began to speak.

“I appreciate you all coming despite the event being postponed. From what I’ve heard, a similar number of participants gathered in Aran Parzan across the mountain. Undoubtedly, it is the largest number of participants in nearly a century. The reason we gathered you all like this is…”

He had a bold yet commanding voice, a voice that effortlessly captured the attention of hardened warriors who had lived rough lives wielding swords. Breaking the silence, Allogin spoke.

“I won’t deny the rumors circulating among the people. The elders, including myself, all had the same dream. A dream where the long-sought Holy Sword revealed itself before us. No detailed explanation was given, but we all could discern that it was the Holy Sword.”

Allogin spoke of a peculiar dream – a falling meteor with a long tail, illuminating the Holy Land, and a single sword partially buried in the ground.

It matched exactly with the information the young man gave. The crowd began to stir with excitement. Thud! Allogin struck the platform with the end of his sword, capturing their attention once again.

“It was a magnificent dream. However, upon waking, we realized a painful truth. None of us could touch the Holy Sword. Most of us only watched as the Holy Sword radiated its brilliance, and those who approached to touch it woke up from their dreams. It wasn’t difficult to understand the meaning of it. Among us elders, none had the qualifications to wield the Holy Sword.”

There was a bitter tone in Allogin’s voice as he spoke. Ronan thought it was entirely understandable. Even if one had grown old and their body worn out, their heart would still burn like a flame if they had lived a proper life.

Tack! Allogin struck the platform again. The guides, dressed in matching attire, arranged themselves in front of the platform. Some held large signs with numbers from 1 to 4 written on them. Allogin continued.

“Now, we will begin the first test. Please follow the guide assigned to your number.”

Guides who did not hold signs walked through the crowd, distributing folded notes. Each piece of paper had numbers from 1 to 4 written on them. Ronan and his companions unfolded their notes simultaneously.

****

“What’s your name? Do you belong to any group?”

“Ronan. I’m from Philleon Academy.”

Ronan answered the question calmly. The guide confirmed that the bead they held showed no reaction and then flashed a friendly smile.

“Haha, I actually knew that. There’s no way I wouldn’t know the hero who saved the continent from winter. It’s just a formality. Please don’t mind it too much.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for your hard work.”

Ronan walked past the guide and entered the room. A space reminiscent of the first arena of Philleon Academy was spread out. The people who had come in earlier were gathered in groups of threes and fives, chatting and talking.

There were a few who looked weak, but most exuded a spirit that couldn’t be ignored, perhaps because they had lived on swordsmanship. Ronan’s gaze wandered, and he noticed a young man standing alone, arms crossed.

“Hey.”

“Are you finally here?”

Shullifen turned his head. Ronan walked over and leaned next to him. He could feel the gazes of the people focused on him. Ronan said with a chuckle.

“I guess they’ll ask the instructor too, right? What’s your name and affiliation.”

“Probably. I heard there are no exceptions.”

“What a farce. Among people who eat swords for a living, is there anyone who wouldn’t know her?”

It was a funny situation, and Shullifen nodded in agreement. Both Ronan and he drew notes with the number 4, but Navirose’s note had the number 1 written on it. The guides holding signs led them to different locations.

Due to the large number of participants, they divided them to conduct the test more efficiently. Before entering the testing venue, the guides meticulously verified the identities of the participants.

All questioning took place in front of a magical device that could detect if the person was lying. If the magical device reacted even slightly, the person was immediately expelled. That was the bead the guides were holding. Ronan grumbled under his breath.

“Why do they scrutinize so thoroughly? I don’t understand why they go through all this trouble.”

“Perhaps to prevent those banned from entering.”

“Huh? Are there such bastards?”

“Yeah, just take a look at the previous generation Sword Master right before Instructor Naviroze.”

Shullifen stated in a calm tone. Hearing this unfamiliar story, Ronan raised an eyebrow. Allogin had never made an effort to learn about the previous generations of Sword Masters. Shullifen shrugged.

“The Ferocious Sword, Croden. Haven’t you heard of him?”

“It seems so.”

“Well, it could be because the Empire is not pleased with his very presence. Although he is strong, he is notorious for his cruelty. He became notorious for massacring all participants, except himself, during the Festival of Swords because he wasn’t chosen by the Holy Sword.”

“He’s a real crazy bastard.”

Ronan chuckled bitterly. Just hearing that guy’s story made it clear why they conducted such thorough inspections. Shullifen continued.

“It was after defeating him that Navirose gained significant fame. He has been in the position of the Sword Master for nearly 40 years at that point. By knocking him down from his position, he was reduced to a mere criminal who had to pay the full price of his crimes.”

“That’s great. So is he dead now? That Croden guy or something.”

“Most likely. The last account of him was witnessing him jumping off a cliff while being chased by the Imperial Knights. Even if he were still alive, he’d probably be an old man on the brink of death.”

Shullifen mentioned several others who were also banned from the Festival of Swords. Ronan nodded, finding the stories fascinating. Indeed, the world was vast, and there were many crazies out there.

More participants continued to arrive. Even though they were divided into four groups, there were easily over a hundred people. Ronan wondered how many people had gathered in the other village called Aran Farzan that served as a gathering place just like this one. He was about to take out his sword for cleaning when a familiar voice echoed nearby.

“Oh, handsome butt.”

“Hmm?”

Ronan turned his gaze in the direction of the sound. The white-haired girl he had seen earlier was standing right beside him. A worn-out scabbard stuck out from her lion-like hair.

“You…!”

His eyes widened. He hadn’t sensed her approaching. The girl nodded contentedly.

“As expected, a good-looking guy has good-looking friends. I like it.”

“Are you… really a participant?”

“I told you so. I don’t lie.”

Her tone was as if she was asking why he was bothering to ask such a question. Shullifen, looking down at the girl, asked.

“Who is this child?”

“I don’t know. She’s the weird pervert I met earlier.”

“That’s harsh. I was about to give you information about the first test.”

The girl pursed her lips. Hearing about the first test, both Ronan and Shullifen raised their eyebrows. Ronan spoke.

“How do you know about that?”

“It’s not my first time here. But honestly, the first test is nothing special. It’s just a simple test to eliminate fools who don’t deserve to wield a sword. At most, it’d be splitting a really hard stone.”

The girl gestured towards various locations in the arena, indicating where the rocks were placed. Her confident tone suggested certainty.

“…Is that true?”

The two turned their gaze in the direction the girl pointed. Walking towards them was a slightly better-dressed guy than the other guides. He attracted attention by clapping his hands. Clap! All eyes focused on the guy.

“Thank you all for coming. Now, without further ado, let me explain the first test.”

He seemed to sense the weariness of waiting and quickly moved on with the narrative. After glancing at the gathered participants, he began to speak.

“There are precisely one hundred people gathered here. You all possess at least one weapon each, so there should be over a hundred weapons in total. Please reduce the number of these weapons to ten.”

“What?”

“The the means or methods do not matter. According to the noble tradition of the Festival of Swords, bloodshed will not be prohibited. Whatever means you use, as long as there are ten or fewer weapons remaining in the end.”

It was completely different from what the girl had said. Far from being easy, it was evident that there would be a significant amount of bloodshed in the test. Both Ronan and Shullifen glared at the girl. Avoiding their gaze, she mumbled softly.

“…Sometimes, there are exceptions.”