Chapter 1: A nostalgic view

April had passed, and Clausel was now wrapped in the warmth of spring.

The recent winter had been eventful, to say the least. A young noblewoman’s life had been saved thanks to the materials harvested from the Sheefulfen that Ren had slain.

This was none other than Fiona Ignat, the sole daughter of Marquis Ignat—a figure who, in The Legend of the Seven Heroes I, became the final boss after raising a rebellion against Leomel.

Ren had encountered her in the Baldor Mountains under peculiar circumstances and ended up fighting to protect her.

At the time, the Baldor Mountains were the site of the final exam for the Imperial Academy’s elite class—a test that ended in disaster when the entire group was ensnared by the Demon King Cult. The repercussions of that incident still echoed across the Leomel Empire.

After that ordeal, Ren occasionally exchanged letters with Marquis Ignat.

Ren had fabricated a report, claiming the information he shared about the Demon Lord Cult was mere rumors he’d overheard at the guild. The Marquis never pressed him further. Whether he refrained from probing to avoid straining their relationship or simply trusted Ren implicitly remained unclear.

That said, even if pressed for more, Ren wouldn’t have had much to offer. Having only played up to The Legend of the Seven Heroes II, his knowledge of the Demon Lord Cult was limited. He vaguely recalled where they might appear, but sharing that at this stage was difficult—and with irregularities piling up, those memories were no longer reliable.

Lost in these thoughts, Ren found himself in the old Clausel family mansion. Entrusted with its upkeep, he was about to begin sweeping the interior.

Bathed in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, he mused aloud.

“…That guy’s flames felt brighter than this sunlight, didn’t they?”

During the winter incident, the red dragon Asvar had been incompletely revived through Fiona’s power.

That power was known as the Black Witch. According to Fiona, the Black Witch was akin to a saintess for monsters.

Though her ability wasn’t inherently meant to raise the dead as undead, Asvar’s revival might have been possible due to the dragon’s extraordinary latent power, far beyond that of ordinary monsters. Perhaps the Black Witch’s ability to “empower monsters” had triggered a miraculous effect.

As a result, Asvar’s resurrection was imperfect.

Yet even in that incomplete state, the dragon—whose legend dated back to the era of the Seven Heroes—remained formidable. Had Asvar returned with its full strength, Ren doubted he could have emerged victorious.

“Looks like Fiona-sama’s power boosted me too, huh?”

Ren’s thoughts drifted further.

He recalled the moment when black blood flowed from Fiona’s body, granting him some kind of power.

“What was that, anyway?”

The world he’d stumbled into after losing consciousness, the black magic sword he’d found there, and the mystery of how the flame magic sword forged from Asvar’s magic stone had changed its name to Flame Sword Asvar—all of it remained unanswered.

To Ren, it seemed inevitable that these phenomena were tied to the Black Witch’s power.

That power, a fragment of which could enhance monsters, had vanished after that incident—a fact that felt far too connected to be mere coincidence.

As the reddish glow of dusk filtered through the window, Ren took a break, settling into a chair in the second-floor hallway of the old mansion.

The slanting sunlight, earned through his diligent cleaning, glinted off the bracelet on his wrist. He glanced at it, noting the text reflected in its crystal.

Since before the winter’s end, Ren’s strength had undergone a dramatic shift. In the Baldor Mountains, he’d gained proficiency not just from defeating Asvar but also from the Steel-Eating Gargoyle. Additional hunts had further accumulated his experience.

After the battle with Asvar, when his Magic Sword Summoning Arts leveled up, he’d uncovered one particularly intriguing detail:

Level 5: Unlocks the evolution of magic swords.

His wooden magic sword had stopped leveling up despite its accumulated proficiency. If that stagnation was due to it awaiting evolution, things started to make sense.

[NAME]
 Ren Ashton

[Job]
 Heir of the Ashton Family – Eldest Son

■ Magic Sword Summoning
 Lv. 1  0 / 0

■ Magic Sword Summoning Art
 Lv. 4  2549 / 3500

[Skill]

Gaining proficiency by using the summoned magic sword.

Level 1: Able to summon one magic sword.

Level 2: While the bracelet is summoned, gains a small boost to physical abilities.

Level 3: Can summon two magic swords

Level 4: Gain the effect of [Physical Ability UP (Medium)) while summoning the bracelet.

Level 5: Unlock the evolution of the magic sword.

Level 6: ************

[Acquired Magic Swords]

■ Wooden Magic Sword
 Lv. 2  1000 / 1000

-Allows for attacks equivalent to basic-level natural magic.

-As the level increases, the attack's effective range expands

■ Iron Magic Sword
 Lv. 3  2390 / 4500

—The sharpness increases as the level increases

■ Plunderer Magic Sword
 Lv. 1  0 / 3

—There is a certain chance that an item will be randomly stolen from the target..

■ Shield Magic Sword
 Lv. 2  0 / 5

 —Deploys a magic barrier.
Improves durability and expands the area of effect with level.

■ Flame Magic Sword

Lv.1        1/1

—The flames are the dragon's rage and the embodiment of its power.

However, the idea of the flame magic sword evolving seemed unlikely.

(Flame Sword Asvar feels different somehow.)

Unlike other magic swords, the flame magic sword could no longer gain proficiency. After all, Asvar was gone.

Ren couldn’t help but think that the changes to the flame magic sword were tied to Fiona’s power—or perhaps the black magic sword.

“Ren—!”

A voice called out from beyond the window.

Opening it, he saw Lishia looking up at him, waving. Her amethyst-colored hair shimmered like silk as always, and her eyes, reminiscent of polished sapphires, sparkled brightly even today.

As spring progressed, her charm and beauty had only grown more refined.

“Father’s calling for you. If you have time, could you come to the main house? He said you’re welcome to join us for dinner too!”

“Got it! I’ll head over after washing up!”

Hearing Ren’s reply, Lishia flashed a delicate smile.

At the dinner table, the topic turned to Ren’s twelfth birthday party, which had taken place a few days prior.

Lishia had regretted missing his birthday the previous year, so this time, she’d taken the lead in organizing the celebration.

“Ren, you can take some time off from work starting next week,” said Lazard Clausel, the baron entrusted with the title, abruptly shifting the conversation.

“—Wait, you’re not saying I’m being put on leave or something…”

“I wouldn’t joke about that. It’s about what we discussed this winter.”

“This winter… Oh! You mean my trip back home?”

Lazard nodded. “Indeed.”

“As I mentioned before, several construction projects are underway around the Ashton family’s village—roads, walls surrounding the village, and the like.”

“So, I can go help out the village?”

“Yes. Our ties with Marquis Ignat have deepened as well. At present, it’s hard to imagine the Ashton village coming under attack. There’s no need to hide your identity or send you as a knight in disguise. Go enjoy your homecoming without any worries.”

Truthfully, Lazard had wanted to let Ren visit sooner, but the winter incident had caused delays.

“We won’t be in Clausel during that time either, so take it easy and don’t worry about a thing.”

“Father? When you say ‘we,’ who do you mean?”

“You, of course, Lishia.”

It seemed Lishia hadn’t been informed either, as she tilted her head adorably in confusion.

“We need to head to Erendil. You both know how hectic things have been with the factions since that incident—and then there’s last year’s matter with Viscount Given. It’s about time we showed our faces there.”

Erendil was a town near the imperial capital.

It was the place Ren had once assumed—due to a stubborn misconception—was part of the Clausel family’s domain.

(So, they’ll take a magic ship from another territory, I guess.)

Apparently, Lazard and the others would travel by horse for about ten days to a noble’s territory south of Clausel, then board a magic ship to Erendil. Both the imperial capital and Erendil had magic ship docks, after all.

“Hey, Ren, don’t you want to visit Erendil too?” Lishia asked.

Ren crossed his arms and gazed at the ceiling.

(Erendil, huh…)

In a way, it was practically the imperial capital.

For Ren, who’d been avoiding the Imperial Academy, it was a place that stirred as much reluctance as the Baldor Mountains.

But could he keep avoiding it forever?

(Not likely.)

As long as he remained under the Clausel family’s care, ignoring Erendil felt impractical.

Now, there was also his connection to Marquis Ignat—and he couldn’t forget his dramatic encounter with Fiona during the recent turmoil.

“If I said I wasn’t interested, that’d be a lie.”

“Really? Then let’s go together next time!”

If Lishia was going to visit eventually, avoiding it was futile.

Considering the Demon Lord Cult’s threat loomed close, being by her side would make it easier to protect her. Abandoning Lishia now was unthinkable.

“Look forward to it! Erendil’s such a beautiful town.”

“Lishia, knowing diligent Ren, he might already know all about Erendil,” Lazard teased.

“Oh, Father! I was hoping to tell Ren all about it myself…!”

“Haha, true, but it’s Ren we’re talking about.”

Lishia fixed her gaze on Ren, curious about the truth.

She looked so eager to explain, but saying he knew everything might disappoint her. After a moment’s hesitation, Ren chose his words carefully.

“I’ve heard there’s an efficient hunting ground there.”

Lishia and Lazard blinked at him in surprise.

 ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

On the day Ren departed for his homecoming, he left the old mansion while Lishia stepped outside to see him off.

“I feel bad for her, but while you and I are gone, she’ll have to stay with Yun,” Lishia said softly, a hint of guilt in her voice.

“Yeah,” Ren replied with a similar tone, nodding.

Soon, Weiss joined them, and the three mounted their horses, passing through the gate leading out of the estate.

As they rode through town toward the gate exiting Clausel, the trio conversed atop their steeds.

“What a shame, though,” Weiss said suddenly, as if recalling something.

“What’s wrong?” Lishia tilted her head.

“It’s about the Asvar matter. Both the lord and I deeply regret that we can’t publicly celebrate the boy’s achievements… Ah, it just crossed my mind.”

Only a handful of people in all of Leomel knew about the Asvar incident.

Besides Ren and Fiona, there were Weiss and Lishia here, plus Lazard, Marquis Ignat, and his butler, Edgar—that was about it.

Given the involvement of the Demon Lord Cult, it was deemed information requiring careful handling.

Of course, everything unrelated to Asvar had already been shared.

“With Fiona-sama’s power involved, keeping it a secret makes everyone happier,” Ren said with a wry smile.

Fiona’s Black Witch power was something Marquis Ignat had chosen to conceal, considering its implications. It was probably best to keep its connection to Asvar’s incomplete revival under wraps too.

“Still, even if it was an incomplete revival, we’re talking about Asvar. How did you two believe me when I said I defeated it?”

It wasn’t like the Sheefulfen or the Steel-Eating Gargoyle.

This was Asvar. Even incomplete, it was a legend.

“Because you said it, Ren. There’s no need to doubt you,” Lishia replied matter-of-factly, her expression cool and composed.

Weiss followed with a more grounded answer, one Ren had secretly hoped for.

“Lady Ignat said you saved her. The knights and adventurers didn’t see Asvar, but they witnessed the flames that struck the suspension bridge in the mountains.”

Given the circumstances and evidence, there was little room for doubt.

“Though, those knights and adventurers are still under a misunderstanding.”

The knights, adventurers, and examinees present in the Baldor Mountains at the time had assumed a dormant volcano was reawakened by the Demon Lord Cult’s followers. They had no idea Asvar had ever existed.

“I am curious about what kind of power you used to defeat Asvar, though,” Weiss added.

“Weiss, no,” Lishia chided.

“I know, I know. As I said before, I won’t pry.”

Weiss backpedaled with a slightly flustered tone.

“Special powers draw attention. Speaking too much and exposing weaknesses is something to avoid.”

He couldn’t bear the thought of causing Ren trouble by pressing him—curiosity or not, asking felt out of the question.

As they chatted and rode on, the three neared the castle gate.

“Almost time, I suppose,” Lishia said, her voice tinged with loneliness.

From here, Ren would join the knights waiting at the gate and head beyond the town. His horse—originally from Yelquq and named Io by Ren—neighed briefly, gazing outside the gate.

“Take care on your trip, Ren.”

“You too, Lady Lishia. Stay safe on your way to Erendil.”

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

After leaving Clausel, Ren visited several villages.

It wasn’t a task assigned by Lazard—he’d suggested it himself. Just as Lishia had once toured the Ashton family’s village, visiting the domain’s settlements was surely an important duty. So, Ren traveled from village to village, occasionally slaying monsters or lending a hand with manual labor.

As he spent his days this way, the Ashton family’s village gradually drew closer.

“Lord Ren, look over there,” a knight said as they rode across a plain beneath a bright sky.

Seeing the brand-new road ahead, Ren let out an excited, “Whoa!”

“That’s the road under construction, right?”

“Yes. It seems to have gotten quite close to the village,” the knight replied.

At this point, the Ashton family’s village was practically within reach.

While roads didn’t guarantee absolute safety, they were typically designed to make monster appearances less likely.

To reach the Ashton village, one had to pass through a forest. The road cut straight through it toward the village, a sign of the large-scale construction underway.

As they continued riding, the familiar Tsurugi Rock came into view.

Ren could still vividly recall fighting the Sheefulfen there. Instead of passing by the rock, the group followed the newly built road. What had once been little more than a wide beast trail was now a proper thoroughfare.

“Hey! Over there!”

A voice called out from just off the road ahead.

Ren recognized it and exchanged a nod with the accompanying knights.

They hadn’t ridden far in the direction of the voice when—

“Another big group today!”

“Lord Roy! Don’t push yourself too hard!”

“Yeah, I know!”

Ren had suspected it from the moment he heard the voice, but as it grew clearer, there was no mistaking it.

“Dad!?”

Ren tugged Io’s reins, urging the horse forward. Io, descended from a monster’s bloodline, surged ahead, leaving the knights’ mounts far behind.

Ren bolted toward the voice.

Besides Roy, two knights were with him, the trio facing off against a dozen or so Little Boars.

With wind-like agility, Ren leaped from tree to tree, cutting down the Little Boars in an instant. Roy and the others stood stunned by the sudden turn of events.

When Ren finally stopped, having dispatched them all, Roy rushed to his son and enveloped him in a hug.

“Dad, it’s dangerous to hug me when I’m holding a sword,” Ren said, a touch of embarrassment in his voice as he reached out to pat his father’s back, both reveling in their long-awaited reunion.

Roy laughed heartily, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, overcome with joy.

“For my own kid, that’s one flashy homecoming!”

“I’m just as surprised! I get back, and suddenly there’s a swarm of Little Boars.”

“Yeah, happens every time they build a road—monsters get stirred up. Can’t be helped.”

Ren sighed, having expected as much.

The knights, delayed by Ren’s haste with Io, finally caught up, their faces softening with relief.

But then, a disruption. A lone Little Boar darted through the trees, recklessly aiming for Ren’s back.

Ren and Roy moved to handle it effortlessly, but—

“Hmph!”

Io, who’d been carrying Ren moments ago, swung its hind legs and sent the Little Boar flying with ease.

Then, with a proud neigh, it began munching on the grass.

Ren and Roy stared at the flung Little Boar, dumbfounded.

On the way to the village, Roy spoke up.

“You remember that bridge separating the village from the forest? The one I fled across when the Sheefulfen attacked me?”

“Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

“They reinforced it just recently. I was heading upstream today when those Little Boars showed up in droves.”

“Were they riled up by the road construction?”

“Nah, I forgot to mention earlier, but I don’t think that’s the whole story.”

Ren glanced at Roy, puzzled. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure, but lately, Little Boars have been fleeing downstream from upriver. The carpenters who came to the village said it doesn’t seem like it’s just the road work.”

“What, like another strong monster showed up?”

“Hmm… I doubt it. We haven’t heard of any damage around here.”

Ren didn’t doubt Roy’s words, but he figured he should check it out himself, just to be safe. There wasn’t a shred of hesitation as he gripped Io’s reins.

“Wait, wait! We’ll go look! You don’t need to jump into work the second you get back!”

“But it’s bothering me!”

The knights from Clausel offered to join him, but Ren, wary of any potential danger, asked them to guard the village instead. Though they saw Ren as someone to protect, the weight in his words compelled them to nod in agreement.

Passing near Tsurugi Rock, Ren followed a beast trail along the river, heading deeper into the forest.

With each step Io took, the surrounding trees swayed in the breeze.

Arriving upstream, Ren found himself before a large waterfall basin. There were no signs of monsters nearby.

The sound of clear water echoed, and a picturesque landscape unfolded around him.

Dismounting Io to explore, he found nothing unusual.

Maybe the Little Boars heading downstream toward the village had been a fluke. Ren was about to conclude as much when his body tensed.

He drew his iron magic sword, frowning as he fixed his gaze on the waterfall basin.

(—)

Something was there. Something powerful.

Approaching the basin cautiously, holding his breath—

“Hm?”

He’d expected a monster in the water, but instead, something glimmering beautifully lay submerged.

Summoning his wooden magic sword, Ren used nature magic to craft a path of roots over the water. Stepping closer, he identified the source of the glow.

“Star Agate?”

The same sparkling gem he’d seen in the Baldor Mountains last winter shimmered at the bottom of the basin.

Swinging his wooden magic sword toward the depths, Ren conjured vines that wrapped around the Star Agate. Gripping the bundled vines with both hands, he began to pull—but it was oddly heavy.

Putting more strength into his arms and bracing his legs, he heaved.

Slowly… ever so slowly, the Star Agate rose toward the surface until—

“What the—!?”

With a dragging sound, the Star Agate emerged from the basin, revealing a size far greater than Ren had anticipated. Most of it had been buried underwater. What he saw now was massive—equivalent to four horses lined up end-to-end. Though parts were chipped, it was elongated, twisted, and tapered to a sharp point.

He couldn’t even imagine the value of a Star Agate this enormous.

“Neigh!”

Io, waiting nearby, whinnied in surprise beside Ren.

“It’s huge. But why’s there Star Agate near the village? It’s supposed to form only in special places like the Baldor Mountains…”

Ren tilted his head, crossing his arms as he peered down at it.

As he studied the gem, his eyes drifted to the opposite end from its sharp tip. Unlike the rest, that section was heavily damaged, with a jagged cross-section that looked like it had been sliced by something sharp—

“—! —!”

A dragon’s voice echoed in Ren’s mind.

No way, he thought, stepping closer to the severed edge. It felt faintly familiar.

A crack ran through the Star Agate. The gem encasing a horn shattered.

With something like this in the basin, no wonder the Little Boars had fled in fear.

“…So how did this end up here from the Baldor Mountains?”

Ren crouched down, lost in thought for a while, pondering how the horn he’d broken off Asvar had washed up here.

Unable to haul the horn back to the village himself, Ren called the knights upstream.

“What a magnificent Star Agate,” one remarked.

“But what is this? Was it attached to some weathered monster material?”

Facing the astonished knights, Ren made a request.

“For some personal reasons, I’d like this taken to Clausel.”

“Hmm… Fortunately, the road and outer walls are under construction right now. The wagons used to transport materials are larger than usual. If we link two together, we could carry it.”

“If we cover it tightly with cloth on a linked wagon, it shouldn’t draw too much attention.”

For Ren, it was about its connection to Asvar; for the knights, it was the rarity of the Star Agate.

After discussing the logistics of transporting it, the knights spoke up.

“Lord Ren, leave the rest to us. Please, take your time enjoying your homecoming.”

“Got it! Then I’ll leave it in your hands!”

Mounting Io, Ren galloped off alone.

The path to the village was being paved like the main road, and a stone wall to protect the area from outside threats was under construction.

Racing down the road with the wind at his back, Ren felt a surge of joy and awe at the transformed village before him.

The central path was now paved with cobblestones—no longer would the rainy days turn the field trails into muddy quagmires. It led proudly toward a new mansion perched atop a modest hill.

Most of the weathered old houses had been rebuilt. His hometown had undergone a remarkable revival.

Villagers working in the fields called out to Ren as he rode Io past them. He returned their greetings with a smile, urging Io onward.

The gate of the new mansion came into view. What had once been a rickety wooden gate, liable to collapse at any moment, was now a sturdy stone structure.

There, outside the gate, stood his parents, waiting for him.

“—Ren!”

Mireille rushed toward him, outpacing Roy, who’d already reunited with Ren earlier.

The moment Ren dismounted Io by the gate, she couldn’t hold back and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Mom! I’m home!”

“Yes! Welcome back!”

Overwhelmed by their long-awaited reunion, Mireille shed a few tears.

Within the mansion grounds stood a stable that hadn’t existed before.

Thinking it’d be best to take Io there first, Ren mentioned it to Mireille.

“What a fine, strong horse,” she remarked.

“…Y-Yeah, really strong… uh-huh…” Ren stammered.

“Oh? What’s wrong? You suddenly looked away.”

The reason? Io was the horse of the beast tamer who’d once attacked this village.

As Ren wrestled with how to explain, Roy chimed in.

“This guy was the beast tamer’s horse that raided our place, right? You snagged yourself a good one.”

“Dad!? How do you know that!?”

“Well, the knights who’ve been coming here told me. They figured you’d have a hard time saying it yourself, so they filled me in out of consideration.”

“There’s no fault in the horse,” Mireille added.

“You don’t need to feel bad about it, Ren.”

She was even petting Io’s mane as the horse playfully nuzzled her.

Dinner at the mansion was a step up from before. Beyond the Little Boars hunted in the forest, a variety of new ingredients graced the table.

After the meal, Ren surveyed the new dining hall in the new mansion.

White plaster walls, dark brown flooring, and a pristine kitchen area—no longer did it open onto a dirt-floored porch like the old one.

“I’ll go drop my stuff in my room,” Ren said.

“Oh, want us to help?” Roy offered.

Mireille insisted on clearing the dishes herself, brushing off Ren and Roy’s offers with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

As Ren walked down the hallway with Roy, the floor no longer creaked like it used to.

“It’s really all new, huh?”

“Thanks to you and the baron. Though all the books went up in flames, so we haven’t rebuilt the library yet.”

“Can’t be helped. That fire was intense.”

The layout of the new mansion resembled the old one. Still, the corridor that once led to the library now ended abruptly, replaced by a wide window.

“Speaking of books, the ones in my room burned too, didn’t they?” Roy said with a sigh as they climbed the stairs to Ren’s room on the second floor.

“Did you guys even have books in your room?”

“Just a few. My old man’s diary, some books our ancestors left behind—that sort of thing.”

“Oh? What kind of books did our ancestors leave?”

“Hard to say if it’s true or not, but they were like adventure logs. Seems our Ashton ancestors were adventurers. They went to the Sky Continent, searched for ancient cities said to sleep beneath the sea—that kind of stuff.”

They reached the door to Ren’s room.

“Here we are. Your room’s all new too.”

The refurbished space was slightly larger than before.

The furniture’s arrangement and appearance mirrored the old setup, putting Ren at ease.

The only change was the bed, now bigger to match his growth. Feeling a rush of emotion for his new room, Ren asked, “Dad, tell me more.”

Opening the window in his new room, he prompted Roy, who replied, “Sure.”

“Let’s see… there was also something about the Dragon Elder.”

Ren’s heart skipped a beat, the memory of Asvar’s horn fresh in his mind.

“They say it was an old, belligerent dragon—super strong, always seeking worthy opponents.”

“…”

“Hey? Why’d you go quiet all of a sudden?”

Noticing Ren’s silence, Roy tilted his head.

“If you’re feeling sick or tired, we can save it for—”

“N-No, no, no! I’m totally fine, so keep going!” Ren blurted out in a panic.

“Well, alright then,” Roy continued. “Our ancestor supposedly fought this Dragon Elder. He wanted its horn so badly he begged for even a fragment.”

“Oh… a horn… And then what?”

“The Dragon Elder refused, and our ancestor hung his head, figuring it was only natural. But then the dragon taunted him to take it by force.”

Ren listened intently, a dry smile tugging at his lips.

“So, our ancestor took the bait and sliced off an entire horn.”

Ren let out a vague, “Ha… ha…” as he nodded along.

“He won that fight and ended up befriending the Dragon Elder.”

“Befriending it? That’s it?”

“Yup. That’s about all that was written in the adventure log we had.”

“Oh… wow… That’s a pretty wild fight, huh?”

“That’s why I say it’s hard to tell if it’s true. If he fought a dragon that strong, you’d think it’d be in Leomel’s history books, and we’d be some famous noble family by now. Seems odd otherwise.”

Roy’s logic was sound, and Ren couldn’t brush it off as a mere tall tale.

“Honey—! The knights are calling for you—!” Mireille’s voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.

Hearing her, Roy left the room.

Left alone, Ren leaned against the window frame. Feeling the spring breeze on his back and crossing his arms, he recalled his exchange with Asvar.

“—Ashton? Why does that… stir such a strange nostalgia?”

“…Huh? You know my family name…?”

“I can’t recall anything… But I don’t like a weakling like you bearing that name.”

The fact that Asvar had only one horn broken made sense if his ancestor was the one who’d done it.

Timeline-wise, it’d be before the heroes defeated Asvar.

Ren had deduced that breaking Asvar’s horn would weaken it, and he’d desperately managed to snap the remaining one. Even then, it was only possible because Asvar’s revival had been incomplete.

Meanwhile, his ancestor had supposedly triumphed over Asvar in its prime.

“I got called a weakling, and fair enough… but why isn’t this in the history books?”

Neither history texts nor his knowledge from the game era mentioned anything about his ancestor.

For someone so extraordinary to leave no trace in history felt off.

“Was it deliberately erased…?”

He considered the possibility that, for some reason, his ancestor had been scrubbed from Leomel’s records.

But that raised another issue: how had the Ashton family survived to the present day? If his ancestor had been erased for some inconvenient reason—likely something problematic for Leomel—it didn’t add up that the family still existed. It all felt inconsistent.

The next morning, Ren woke up in high spirits. The new mansion couldn’t quite claim the nostalgia of his old home, but there was nothing like being back in his birthplace.

Opening the window, he breathed in the scent of soil and grass carried by the wind across the fields.

“These days, even merchants come by,” Mireille said during a warm family breakfast, as if it had just occurred to her.

Roy picked up where she left off. “Unlike before, they stop by once a month now. It’s a big help.”

“Merchants? Are they here for construction materials?” Ren asked.

“Not just that. They’re coming for trade too. Notice how the food’s different now? With the roads being built, it’s more convenient for them.”

Among the rural stretches of Clausel’s domain, the Ashton village sat in an especially remote corner.

Until recently, it hadn’t been worth merchants’ time to visit, but—

“This village could become a new stopover. Once the roads are finished, travel will be safer than before.”

For merchants and adventurers traveling from Clausel’s town to the surrounding settlements and the former Viscount Given’s territory, the development around this village was a boon.

If adventurers brought bustle to the village, merchants would follow to do business.

Even the weak monsters inhabiting the area provided materials that never lost their demand.

Take the Little Boar, for instance—its hide made affordable cold-weather gear, and its meat was tasty. Though materials from weaker monsters fetched lower prices, they were vital for supporting commoners’ livelihoods.

Roy noted that it was decent side work for young or middle-aged adventurers looking to earn a bit extra.

“But that means more work for you, Dad,” Ren pointed out.

“Huh?”

“If the village gets lively, your workload’s going to pile up. Especially if merchants and adventurers start showing up more.”

“Shoot. I didn’t think of that.”

Roy clutched his head, and Ren couldn’t help but smile at his father’s typical aversion to clerical duties.

Ren realized he couldn’t just send money home and call it a day. As a member of the Ashton family, he needed to think about the future too.

“By the way, Ren, I heard you had quite the time in the Baldor Mountains?” Roy said.

“We heard about it too,” Mireille added. “I was shocked at first, but it’s amazing! You protected a marquis’s daughter, didn’t you?”

“Something about the Demon Lord Cult? I was stunned they revived a volcano or whatever, but I was even more blown away that you kept that girl safe through it all! Haha! That’s my Ren!”

“Haha… yeah. A lot happened…”

His parents had heard about the incident—Lazard had sent them a report.

But since issues involving Fiona’s power were kept under wraps, they didn’t know the full story, including Asvar’s appearance.

Their knowledge was limited to the threat of the Demon Lord Cult and similar details.

Ren wanted to dig deeper into the adventurer Ashton’s tale, but with no further records, he couldn’t expect more than what they’d discussed yesterday.

If anything, the lack of information might’ve been convenient, tied to something that needed to stay hidden.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

A few days later, the scene shifted to Erendil, near the imperial capital.

Lishia strolled through the town with Weiss, basking in the early afternoon sunlight.

“It really is a world apart from Clausel,” she remarked.

“A historic town and a hub of rapid growth,” Weiss replied. “I look forward to the day you take charge, my lady.”

“Oh? I might just appoint a deputy like Father does.”

“That’s common for nobles with multiple domains. Still, it doesn’t change that you’ll be this land’s lord one day. Perhaps you should consider attending a school somewhere, my lady.”

“…Like the Imperial Academy, maybe?”

“Hah. Graduating from that academy would certainly add prestige to your name as Erendil’s future ruler.”

Lishia nodded at Weiss’s words, then murmured under her breath, “—Come to think of it, why does Ren avoid that place?”

As she tilted her head in thought, a sharp, menacing voice rang out from a corner of the main street.

Lishia and Weiss rushed toward it.

At the source, a crowd had gathered, their eyes fixed on a narrow alley leading off the road. Apparently, a pickpocket had fled down it.

Onlookers said a girl had chased after him.

“Weiss, let’s go.”

“M-My lady—! Oh, fine, it seems we’ve no choice!”

Before Weiss could stop her, Lishia darted off, stepping into the alley the pickpocket had taken.

The narrow path echoed with the sound of multiple footsteps. The bustle of the main street faded entirely, as if they’d entered another world.

Lishia listened to the pickpocket’s fleeing steps and veered in a different direction from the sound.

“We’ll cut him off.”

“Smart. A pincer move,” Weiss agreed.

Trusting those already chasing the thief, they opted to get ahead of him.

At their ambush point, Lishia and Weiss waited with swords drawn.

As expected, the pickpocket appeared and froze upon seeing them.

“W-What the hell are you!?”

The man—perhaps a fallen adventurer—was clad in gear made from monster materials. Clutching what looked like an expensive stolen bag under his arm, he drew a knife and squared off.

“Hey, Weiss, is Erendil’s security really this bad?”

“No, my lady. Just as in Clausel, there are lawbreakers everywhere.”

“Then I suppose it can’t be helped.”

Lishia sighed and stepped forward.

Before Weiss could act, she raised a hand, unleashing a blinding flash of light from her palm.

It was harmless, lacking any lethal force, but the sudden burst dazzled the man, causing him to stumble.

“G-Gah!?”

He tumbled to the ground, rolling right to Weiss’s feet.

Before the man could recover, Weiss grabbed his arms, binding them behind his back.

“Owowowow!” the man yelped pathetically.

“It seems the one chasing him earlier has caught up,” Weiss noted.

Footsteps approached.

As the daughter of this town’s ruler, Lishia felt obliged to thank those who’d pursued the thief.

She intended to hand the captured man over, but upon seeing the girl who arrived, she smiled and said, “Oh?”

“I won’t let him get awa—”

The girl, mid-sentence and brimming with determination, froze when she saw Lishia.

“—L-Lishia Clausel!? What are you doing here!?”

Her stunning face twisted in shock as she raised her voice.

Panting from running through the alleys, she ran a hand through her disheveled brown hair, straightening her posture.

Lishia, facing the brunette, smiled and replied, “It’s been a while, Sera.”

She spoke the girl’s name.

-After handing the pickpocket over to the knights’ station:

“Thanks for helping out, Sera. I appreciate it,” Lishia said.

“I didn’t do much. Besides, as a member of the Eijarl family, it’s only natural,” Sera replied.

Among the Seven Heroes was Gajil Riohald, a swordsman whose pure skill surpassed even the Hero’s. He was said to have performed countless feats during the quest to defeat the Demon Lord.

The Riohald family was one of the seven great noble houses, and Sera was its young lady.

In The Legend of the Seven Heroes, she was the main heroine—a bright, popular girl.

“It’s been years, hasn’t it? Since I lost to you, Lishia… Quite a while, right?”

Their first meeting had been at a party in the imperial capital years ago.

Sera, renowned for her swordsmanship since childhood, had challenged the equally famed White Saintess to a test of strength.

The next day, at a spar held in the Riohald family’s capital estate, Lishia overwhelmed her.

That encounter sparked mutual respect, laying the foundation for their friendship today.

“I was surprised,” Lishia said. “I came here for Father’s business and never expected to run into you.”

“Same here. I was showing Vayn around when that happened—and then I bumped into you.”

“Vayn?”

“My friend and savior. When I visited near his village, he saved me from a monster attack. We came to Erendil together, but we got separated.”

Sera’s cheeks softened into a cute smile as she spoke.

“A monster attack? What about your guards?” Lishia asked.

“…I thought I could handle it alone and went into the forest, but I couldn’t fight well…”

Lishia nearly let out a sigh and a quip—“What an idiot”—but held back. After all, she’d done similar things and troubled Ren before.

“Lady Riohald, if I may, shall we have the knights search for your companion?” Weiss suggested.

Sera nodded eagerly and described Vayn: around her age, slightly taller and slender, with dark brown hair and emerald eyes.

Weiss stepped out to relay the details to the knights stationed outside.

“Hey, Lishia, stick around for a bit,” Sera said, heading deeper into the station.

“I’ll show you how much stronger I’ve gotten since that day! Let’s borrow the training grounds in the station!”

Since their families belonged to different factions, Lishia hesitated about sparring in a place beyond their parents’ watchful eyes.

There might be complaints later—though, knowing Sera, she probably wouldn’t say anything…

“…I’ll have to apologize to Ren when I get back to Clausel,” Lishia muttered.

The feeling she had now was likely similar to what Ren must have felt in the past.

With little choice, she reluctantly stepped into the station.

A few dozen minutes later, Vayn—the boy who’d come to Erendil with Sera—arrived at the station.

He froze in shock upon seeing Sera slumped on the training ground floor, dazed.

“See you later, Sera,” Lishia said.

Turning as she walked away, she waved with a graceful air.

She’d just demonstrated a gap in strength even wider than their last encounter before leaving the scene.

It was a moment straight out of The Legend of the Seven Heroes—a single, iconic frame.

The main heroine, Sera, and the protagonist, Vayn, who’d lent her a hand, watching Lishia depart.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

About a month later, after Ren and Lishia had returned to Clausel, they sat together following a training session.

Lishia rested on a wooden bench in the garden, recounting her time in Erendil to Ren.

“—And that’s what happened.”

Ren, feigning calm, replied, “Oh, I see.”

In the game, Vayn had protected Sera Riohald near his village too. That incident sparked the first signs of the Hero’s power awakening within him, catching the eye of Sera’s parents.

Recalling the event at the knights’ station, Ren felt a pang of nostalgia.

“Hey, Ren, are you listening?”

“Sorry. I got overwhelmed by how amazing the city sounds.”

Ren met Lishia’s gaze and offered a hand to help her stand.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. So, you sparred with Lady Riohald, right?”

“Just a few short rounds. And yet… ugh…”

Pouting slightly, Lishia looked up at Ren, noticing their growing height difference even more.

“…You went and got cooler again without me.”

She muttered it under her breath, too quiet for Ren to hear.

“Sera’s a renowned swordswoman even in the capital, and I crushed her,” she said proudly.

“That’s the fruit of all your hard work, Lishia-sama. I’m happy for you.”

“No! That’s not what I mean!”

Lishia closed the distance between them, so near Ren could’ve counted her eyelashes, and huffed.

“The point is, I—who beat her—lost to you just minutes ago! Like always!”

Looking up at him, she seemed mildly annoyed but not truly upset.

Her demeanor now almost felt like she was playfully sulking.

“You’ve gotten stronger again, haven’t you, Ren?”

“Uh…?”

“Don’t look away! No dodging—look at me properly!”

Relenting, Ren met her eyes, their gazes locking straight on.

Only then did Lishia realize how close they were. Her cheeks flushed red in an instant, and she stumbled back in embarrassment.

From the mansion window, the servant Yun watched with a smile through the glass.

“It’s unfair to suddenly look at me like that!” Lishia protested.

Ren brushed off her illogical complaint with a wry smile.

“Still, I’m relieved things didn’t get tense over the Viscount Given mess.”

“Oh, Sera apologized for that a ton.”

Sera only learned the full story after the incident, thanks to Viscount Given’s cunning maneuvers.

Furious, she’d tried multiple times to reach out to the Clausel family, but—

“Marquis Ignat put pressure on the noble houses, locking them down. With the factions in chaos over the viscount’s schemes, Sera’s parents were desperate to keep her out of it.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Marquis Ignat alright.”

Who’d have thought having him as an ally could be this reassuring?

To think he could immobilize even the noble houses—his influence was staggering.

“Lady Riohald must’ve been really worried about you, Lishia-sama.”

“Yeah. She’s kind like that.”

For Lishia, who harbored no fondness for the Hero faction, Sera herself was impossible to dislike. Yet a tangle of unspoken, complex emotions churned within her.

Factions weren’t monoliths—thinking about it only made it more complicated.

“Hey, hey! Now tell me about you! How was the village?”

Asked with a cheerful bounce, Ren perked up and began sharing his memories.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

That night, in Lazard’s study where Ren was chatting with him, Weiss entered with a grave expression.

“Everything matches the boy’s report. That horn must belong to Asvar.”

Hearing this, Lazard, still seated on the sofa, burst into hearty laughter.

“Hahaha! I’m past being shocked! If it’s something Ren did, I can just laugh it off! Frankly, I’m glad it washed up in the Ashton village.”

“It didn’t draw much attention, which is good, but why’d it end up in my village?” Ren wondered.

“Take a look at this. It probably came down an underground river,” Lazard said.

He spread a map across the table in front of the sofa.

The map of the domain’s terrain was crisscrossed with blue lines.

Those rivers connected to the secret route in the Baldor Mountains—the underground passage of Star Agate that Ren and Fiona had aimed for during their escape.

“The underground rivers around there link to a major waterway in our territory,” Lazard explained.

“If that horn flowed through there, sure… but isn’t it a bit too convenient that it reached my village?”

“I’ll admit, it feels so convenient it’s almost suspicious. But it happened—there’s no denying it washed up in your village.”

There wasn’t much else to say.

(Maybe it was drawn there because of some tie to the Ashton family…)

It didn’t feel realistic, but given Asvar’s power, Ren couldn’t dismiss it outright.

The real question was what to do with a priceless horn like that.

Selling it on the market? Tricky. It was a unique material, and considering Marquis Ignat and Fiona, putting it into circulation could stir unnecessary trouble.

“We should consult Marquis Ignat directly next time,” Lazard suggested.

“So, a trip to Eupeheim?”

“No, there’s a party this summer hosted by a noble the marquis is close to. He arranged it so we could talk.”

Using a friendly noble as a go-between made sense, given the faction divide with the Clausel family.

With that settled for the marquis, Ren had something else on his mind.

“Sorry, changing topics here.”

He shared what Roy had told him—including what Asvar had said.

“An adventurer ancestor of the Ashton family… I’ve never heard of it, sadly. What about you, Weiss?”

“Likewise, my lord. Yet Asvar’s words and Lord Roy’s tale seem connected. Frankly, it’s odd we know nothing of this ancestor.”

“Exactly. They should’ve left a mark on history.”

Neither recalled reading anything relevant in the mansion’s library either.

“After the Viscount Given incident, we reinvestigated your village to figure out why it was targeted. Nothing turned up. Did the village elders know anything?”

“I asked Granny Rigg, the apothecary, subtly, but she didn’t seem to know a thing.”

“…Then we might be out of leads.”

“Only a handful in Leomel could erase someone who defeated Asvar from history. It could be tied to some complicated circumstances,” Weiss mused.

“If that’s the case, the forbidden archives might hold something,” Lazard said.

In The Legend of the Seven Heroes, the Imperial Library had a restricted section known as the forbidden archives.

“Had” was the operative word—players couldn’t access it. True to its name, it was under strict control, known only through lore, not exploration.

“I see,”

“My lord, why the smile?” l

“I’m starting to get it, that’s all. You know who can enter the forbidden archives, right, Weiss?”

“You mean when Viscount Given was Assistant Minister of Justice?”

“Exactly. Only a few can access it: the head librarian, His Majesty the Emperor, the yet-to-be-named crown prince, the Minister of Justice, and their assistant.”

Recalling why Viscount Given had targeted the Ashton village—

(He must’ve learned something about the Ashton family in the forbidden archives and went out of his way to hit that remote place.)

What that “something” was remained elusive, and it gnawed at Ren.

“With an ancestor who could overpower Asvar, it makes sense they’d target you, Ren—an Ashton. You could even be descended from Hero Ruin’s bloodline.”

(Nah, that’s not it)

Smiling wryly to himself, he pictured Vayn, the protagonist of The Legend of the Seven Heroes.

“Even if there’s info there, the forbidden archives are out of reach,” he said aloud.

Unless Ren or someone he knew gained access, that is.

“We should probably share this with Marquis Ignat too, just in case,” he added.

“I agree, We should inform him.” Lazard nodded.

The two continued their conversation.

---

ToC 

Chapter 2