1

The blinding brilliance of the Grand Summon slowly faded, leaving only residual afterimages in the returning darkness of the barren canyon. And together with the light, Yuliana's hopes faded, the newly lit blaze of courage within her completely snuffed out.

Where the summoning circle had been moments prior now stood—a person.

Though the summoned hero was said to come from another world and could have looked like anything, the stranger resembled a regular human.

An adult woman, to be precise.

Not a gallant valkyrie in sparkling plate armor, lance in hand, blonde hair beautifully fluttering.

Not a sorceress veiled in black satin, possessed of mysterious powers.

Not even a cute, glowing little fairy, a tall elven princess, or a young muse.

Not a muscular amazoness leaning on a humongous greataxe.

Instead, the person looked only like a regular maid.

A woman dressed in a simple brown dress shirt with the sleeves crudely rolled up to her elbows, a gray, knee-length skirt, as well as a murky blue apron covering the front. On her feet were light indoor slippers, dirty white. No matter how you looked at it, it was attire ill-suited for combat.

Brown hair, voluminous and wavy, reached past the woman's wide hips and looked like it would get in the way of—any kind of work, really. Her figure showed no marks of a violent life; rather, her chest and hips had quite a bit of excess fat to them, proof of an idle lifestyle.

Was the stranger a magician then?

The woman didn't have a staff, not even a small wand, no cloak, not one ancient tome in hand, no magical gems, no rings on her fingers, actually no jewelry or accessories of any sort. She did have a sort of beautiful face, but there was an abundance of pretty—and prettier—girls in virtually every town. There was no way for her to contest any Zurian maiden, let alone the Divines, in that regard.

The woman was from another world, that much was clear from her foreign attire, the material of which looked oddly cheap and unrefined compared to the Estuanian silk worn at the court, or the hand-woven cotton attires common everywhere in Langoria. It was clear that whoever had made those clothes took no particular pride in her handiwork.

Setting aside the woman's garments, if this person was not a warrior or a magician, not a mystical being or even armed in any way—then what good was she to Yuliana in her dire situation?

The woman had been brought here by the Grand Summon, to save the people of Ortho, like the ages-old prophecy predicted.

“A champion, the strongest among his or her kind”—such were the criteria by which the great miracle was said to select its agents. Yuliana had believed it to mean someone of peerless mental and physical capability. The old songs were quite clear on that point.

A sobering thought occurred to Yuliana.

Perhaps prophecies were not quite what they were made out to be.

Or, it couldn't be that the people of the other world were really WEAK?

“Hm, hm,” the strange woman looked blankly around for a moment and didn't appear too shocked over being suddenly torn from her home and dropped in a place she couldn't recognize. Was she too dense to even realize her reality had changed? Were the other world's inhabitants perhaps mentally only on the level of a newborn baby, coddled by magic or unimaginable technology?

Then, the foreigner's attention was caught—not by Yuliana lying helplessly on the ground, but by something up ahead on the slope.

Battered by the rain, pinned between the rocks, was a large sword.

Yuliana's sword. It was what she had been carrying with her.

It was not just any old greatsword. Yuliana's life, her future depended on it. Her pursuers were willing to kill for it. Simply touching that particular instrument of battle was enough grounds for the capital punishment to anyone outside the royal family. Not even the king could simply carry it off to battle with him if he so pleased. Before a weapon, it was a treasure, the cornerstone of the Langorian culture.

“Ooh!” With an exclamation of excitement, the woman went and picked up the sword. Like picking up a flower, she lifted it nimbly in the air and examined it from both sides. “Fifty-six and a half inches in length, the handle fifteen, about six at widest...Weight? Maybe six pounds point...seven, eight? What a marvel of craftsmanship! It feels so good in my grip too! This isn't steel, is it? Some kind of unknown fantasy metal!? Wow, they do hand out freebies after all!? This isn't a day one DLC, is it? I'd really hate to see someone else running around with another just like it...”

What in the world is she talking about? Yuliana wasn't amused.

Offended on the behalf of her house, she was about to stand up and order the stranger to return the weapon, but someone else beat her to it.

——“Hand over the sword!”

A crude voice came from uphill.

Both the woman and Yuliana turned to look up, and through the rain, down the slope emerged a group of men.

Knights, five—seven of them.

Most were clad in uniform chainmail that reached the knees, with a long, deep blue surcoat over it, their coat of arms embroidered on the chest in silver. On their heads were cylinder-like helmets, save for one, the commander, whose head was left bare. To show his rank, he also wore a blue cape over his left shoulder. He was the one who had issued the prior command.

Yuliana knew the man by name.

Sir Ivanoe Bravia Eisley, the Baron of Troms, the vice commander of the Kingsguard. There were only a handful of people even in the capital qualified to bring back the holy sword, and he was definitely one.

The black, short-trimmed beard framing Sir Eisley's sturdy jaw had lost some of its usual refinement in the rain, and his dark hair hung slimy across his forehead. His sharp, deep blue eyes gave Yuliana a quick, tired glare. He nodded at two of his men to go secure her, before turning his attention back to the unknown woman,

“What you have there is something priceless to our kingdom. Hand it over, and for this once I shall overlook the felony of you sullying its divine grace by your commoner's hands. At once.”

Even in her peril, Yuliana felt more concerned over the well-being of the outsider—since it was partly her fault the woman was here in the first place.

Being suddenly confronted by a squad of knights, right after having been abducted into another world without a word of explanation, the woman was understandably shocked and couldn't muster a response. She had to have been.

For a moment, Yuliana wondered how she should argue their collective defense when someone interrupted her thoughts,

—“No, thanks, I'll pass up on that offer.”

“Haa?”

It was the unknown woman.

Yuliana and the knights' side were both momentarily stunned by the unexpected—unexpectedly blunt—response. Under the circumstances, a hare casually defying a pack of wolves never appeared a possibility to either.

“I really like this thing, so I'm going to keep it until I find something better,” the stranger followed up with an outrageous explanation. “Sorry, but consider it lost now.”

It took several blinks before the knight commander recovered.

“For the love of Divines...!” he spat, before repeating, “Give the sword to me, wench! Do not make me ask you a third time!”

“No means no,” the woman immediately repeated with a frown. “What are you, a telemarketer? You guys are all armed with swords, which means this world must be pretty dangerous and guns haven't been invented yet. In other words, I'm going to need a good weapon to defend myself with, and the way I see it, this one's the best around. Well, if you're willing to give me one of yours, some other items, money, and a bit of information, then I suppose we could bargain, if you really want it that bad.”

“Josley, take it!” Sir Eisley ordered one of his men standing nearby and cursed. He hadn't been chasing a fugitive all day in the rain just to end up haggling with a daft vagrant. He didn't know what the light earlier had been—clearly a failed spell somehow initiated by Yuliana—but that didn't matter. He would take the sword and the girl, the wench too, if necessary, and be back to the king before the weekend.

The named knight did as ordered and started to descend the rocky slope towards the woman with the sword. Sir Josley expected her to soon turn and run, and checked if the throwing knife pouch hanging by his hip was ready for use. He wasn't about to run another step tonight.

But again, against everyone's expectations, the woman wouldn't run. Instead, she turned to face the knight, kicked her slippers off her feet and raised the sword in front of her.

As though preparing for a fight.

The knight stopped. He hadn't intended to, his feet had done it on their own. There was something unsettling about the woman and the weapon that should have been way too heavy for her to hold so steadily. She was on the lower ground, vulnerable, without armor. But her stance was adamant, as if her soft-looking figure had suddenly turned to stone. The sharp end of the blade lingered right at the level of their connected line of sight, radiating a sense of dread.

A voice quiet enough for only the knight to hear it reached his ears.

—“If you come too close, I might have to kill you.”

Though the woman had intoned it like a friendly warning, there was a hollow, cold ring to her words. Whether she was lost in madness, or just pretending well enough to even fool herself, she appeared to believe without a modicum of doubt that she could follow through with the threat.

Kill a knight? A commoner?

How delirious could she be, to throw around such absurd lines in a situation like this?

“What are you doing? Hurry up!”

His captain's angry urging and his comrades' faint, ridiculing chuckles, made Sir Josley's blood boil with shame. He was drenched, feverish, hungry, tired, and confused—and angry because of all that.

“Fine, if that's the way you want it,” he confidently told the woman, unsheathed his longsword and took a step forward.

There was no reason to be afraid.

It was completely unthinkable for the woman to actually be able to wield the holy sword. Even if she could somehow gather enough strength to lift her thin arms, he was certain he could push her down long before the blade would fall. It was an empty bluff, nothing more. Encouraged by his observation, the knight boldly picked up the pace and stepped towards the woman in an almost casual fashion, determined to pull the royal treasure from her unresisting grip and leave.

As if to show her arms were getting tired, to surrender, the woman indeed lowered the blade.

By the time Sir Josley realized how bad he had misread her, it was already too late.

Lightly, almost playfully, the greatsword swept across the rain.

The knight, perceiving movement, instinctively brought up his sword, to defend, to react, to do something, but by that point, his balance already crumbled. His thigh, a bit above the knee, momentarily exposed through the open front of the chainmail as he walked, had been severed by the exceedingly sharp tip of the lengthy blade.

Because of their unequal footing on the steep slope, he had entered his opponent's range before striking back ever became possible for him. This slight oversight in judgment had costly consequences.

Screaming in pain, gripping his profusely bleeding leg, where muscles and arteries had been torn all the way to the bone, the knight collapsed and fell beside his opponent, at her feet.

Chunk.

Before anyone could think about running to his aid, the terrible blade fell again like guillotine, and sank clean in the crack between the helmet and the chainmail's collar. The metal cylinder went rolling downhill, its owner's decapitated head still trapped inside.

Yuliana and the six remaining knights stared at the woman and the bloodied weapon in her hand, their mouths agape, staggered by the unexpectedly vicious turn of events.

“Sorry. But with that wound, he wouldn't have made it,” the knight's killer lightly announced, displaying little remorse. “I did give him a fair warning, I think.”

That woman from another world.

What kind of a world was it, Yuliana thought with a shudder, where even housewives could slay grown knights without blinking?

“Fuck!” Sir Eisley swore in a mix of rage, frustration, and helplessness over the loss of his man. This wasn't a combat mission. No monsters, enemy soldiers, or natural hazards were expected on the way. There was no journey without risks, of course, but nobody sincerely believed in there being casualties. They were only to capture a solitary thief and return posthaste. Granted, Yuliana had been fully trained as a knight, but Sir Eisley had known her ever since she was a little girl and knew what to expect of her, more or less.

This—this wasn't supposed to happen!

“Get the sword!” the knight commander shouted at his remaining men. Now, more than before, he felt he had to accomplish the task. He owed it to the deceased.

“If you really want it that bad, why don't you come get it yourself?” the woman asked.

No one bothered to answer. In short order, the two knights who had been on their way to seize Yuliana and had paused to watch the show changed course and drew their weapons.

Their pace was a lot quicker and more aggressive than the first one's, as they jumped from rock to rock. Though there were two, they didn't try to surround their enemy or adopt anything that could be called a battle plan. From their point of view, the woman had simply taken advantage of her enemy's courtesy and put him down with a cheap shot. No, their interpretation was undoubtedly the correct one.

Could anyone fault their will to avenge their fallen comrade?

In response, their target—sighed.

“Why is it that the only time I have young men coming after me is when they're trying to kill me? Don't you think my life is already sad enough as it is?”

Is that what matters to you here!? Yuliana impulsively retorted in her mind, before recalling the seriousness of the situation.

Even if the stranger appeared to have some skill with a sword, she was outnumbered. Yuliana had to do something to help her—but at the same time, she was too intimidated by the bloodthirst hanging thickly in the air to decide where and how to intervene.

Leaping off a sizable rock, the foremost of the knights lifted his sword high above his head with both hands, in an apparent attempt to cleave the woman in two with his full weight.

Not that he really was that murderous. Expecting her to put up her guard, he intended to simply knock her down with a superior mass. Considering his advantage in this regard, it could have still turned into a deathblow by accident, but he was not as soft as to only feign an attack.

But the woman didn't attempt to block his diving cut.

Instead, she waited right until the final moment, before quickly stepping sideways. And as she moved, she simultaneously pulled the greatsword with her. That sword, made of material far tougher than steel, ate through the chainmail and tore at the falling knight's exposed flank beneath the ribs. Perhaps her swing alone wouldn't have had enough force to cut through the numerous rings of steel, but being mid-fall, he essentially cut himself with his own momentum.

Sharing the fate of the previous knight, he let out a cry of agony and crash-landed on the rocks, past his target, like a humanoid cannonball.

“Why you—!”

The second—third—knight quickened his charge after his comrade's fall, approaching the woman from her right. He had every intention to be more cautious than his fallen brothers-in-arms. He didn't let down his guard but kept his training in mind as he readied his weapon for a diagonal swing. With his eyes, he aimed at the woman's shieldless neck, which shone pale as a white flag in the dark. Should a counterattack come, he was fully prepared to break off his assault to receive it.

And yet, he never saw what happened next.

Turning quickly on her heels to face him, the woman brought down her weapon from above, over her shoulder, and bashed the knight on top of his helmet with the flat side of the massive blade. His weight at the front, he charged, his helmet blocking the view from above, he was flattened onto the ground by the impact, knocked out. As he lay there at her feet, defenseless and dazed, the woman quickly straightened her arm to turn the blade upright and brought it down in a cruel stab, below the back rim of the shiny helmet. The squishy sound of metal sinking into soft flesh made Yuliana wince and avert her face. The fallen knight immediately stopped kicking, dead, a red river running down the rocks underneath him.

“What the Hel…?” Sir Eisley staggered, stupefied.

Before he could fully grasp how it had happened, he realized he had already lost three men—half of his escort. He hadn't given any follow-up orders, or rather, he had no idea what he should even do next, when another knight stepped forward of his own initiative.

Everyone probably shared the same sentiments.

They couldn't—refused to—believe the reality in front of them.

Yes, the unknown woman had proved to be unexpectedly skilled, but was there anyone who didn't know how to use a sword, in this dangerous day and age? The knights had been careless. What had really killed them could only be called a mixture of bad luck, oversight, and difficult conditions working against them.

That was all.

They couldn't accept that the random, poorly equipped commoner before them was somehow—different.

The fourth knight pulled a knife from a sheath below his left arm, weighed it quickly in his hand and then cast it at the woman. In his mind, he was probably mocking his fallen companions for their stupidity, for losing their lives in such a trivial conflict. Their chivalry had been their undoing, but he wouldn't make the same mistake. A knife from a distance was all that was needed to put an end to this tragicomical struggle.

“What—?”

As aptly as it had been dispatched, the thrown knife never reached its target.

Flicking her wrist, the woman deflected the incoming weapon with her sword, like it was a shuttlecock in a casual game of badminton—although the game was not known in this world. And before the repelled knife had landed far behind her back, the woman was already dashing straight at the knight who had thrown it.

The knight in question was momentarily startled by the change of pace.

The stranger had barely moved from her spot this entire time, content with simply receiving and countering the knights' attacks, yet now she suddenly turned to the offensive. The man couldn’t understand that he had caused it himself, by introducing projectiles to the battlefield, so changing the essential nature of the conflict.

Nimbly like a goat, the woman ran uphill. The distance of roughly four meters that the knight had needed to secure the kill was crossed in barely a second. In disbelief, he couldn't even think about resorting to the weapon still hanging sheathed on his belt, when the holy sword arced through the rain and sank into his right shoulder, at the base of his neck, where the chainmail's protection was at its weakest.

The heavy weapon dived with little effort into his torso for its full width and an upward gush from the deep red fountain drew a wide arc across the heavens.

Instead of stopping to extract the blade, the woman continued to run past the knight, pulling the handle behind her like a lever. Skewed, torn by a violent, murderous agony, the knight could only turn along and, after the twisting motion stopped, fall back-first down the hill, pulled from impalement by gravity.

The swordswoman's assault didn't end there, but continued straight for the next knight in the line, not allowing the remaining enemies to recover and restore their formation. If they all decided to attack her from range together, they would no doubt quickly emerge victorious—and she would do all that she could to keep them from realizing the fact.

The knight standing closest from there was—the captain, Sir Eisley himself.

“Hi—?” A startled sound stole past his lips as the understanding dawned on him.

Bare moments ago, he had been safely surrounded by his squad and now—the frontline of the battle had suddenly been drawn to where he stood.

In the habit of only issuing orders, the knight commander didn't have his sword drawn. He had nothing to throw. Not even a helmet. His attention had been captured by the surreal dance of death unfolding before his eyes and so he had ended up completely forgetting about himself.

When was the last time he had needed to defend his life? He couldn't remember.

A bare second after his shocked gasp, Sir Eisley's throat was impaled by a thrust of the weapon he had been sent to retrieve. Having sealed his movements through this mortal blow, the woman retracted the blade and turned on her heels like a spinning top. In the next moment, the baron's decapitated head was cast through the darkening night, making dull, horrid noises as it bounced along the rocks like a rotten melon.

The two remaining knights wasted no more time idling, but...

—“AAAAAGGGGH!!”

“A DAEMON, MONSTEEER!!”

...Turned and scrambled up the slope on all fours, as fast as they were able.

“What was so scary?” the woman, Itaka Izumi, looked after them, tilting her head in confusion. “Did it hurt?”

2

Having sufficiently recovered by now, in body and spirit, Yuliana struggled back up to her feet. It hadn't happened the way she envisioned it, but the results were what mattered. She had been saved by the champion from another world, delivered to her aid by a literal miracle.

Even if Yuliana had her misgivings about the savior's appearance and conduct, the unknown woman's strength couldn't be denied. Regaining her composure, Yuliana inhaled and went to express her gratitude to this unlikely ally.

“Please accept my thanks. Whether intending it or not, you have saved my life,” she told the woman with a light bow. Just in case, she kept her distance outside the greatsword's range. The terrifying scene of carnage before still made her arms quiver. Though as a trained knight she had faced various dangers in the past, this had been the first time Yuliana had seen a human being spill the blood of another in such a ruthless, unrestrained fashion.

“Hm?” Izumi turned her head and looked at the girl.

Of course, she had recognized the girl's presence before. It was rather difficult not to. Just, there had been too many distractions to give her a proper look. Now cautiously sizing her up, Izumi was unsure of how to return the greeting.

“I understand you are confused,” Yuliana took advantage of the woman's silence to continue. “Allow me to begin by introducing myself. My name is Yuliana Da Via Brannan of Walhollem. And the land you tread upon is that of the kingdom of Langoria, where I was formerly a princess and a knight.”

“Now there's a princess!?” Izumi reeled backwards, shocked. “Not that I mean to complain, not at all! I like princesses a whole lot! Of course, isn't it a given that a high fantasy tale must have a princess or two? Only, don't you think it sounds a little too convenient and fanservicy when sprung upon you so suddenly? That's right, I think it would've been better, had you started out pretending to be a nobody, only to reveal the truth at a suitably tense moment somewhere near the climax...Giving away such a big reveal upfront without any build-up is—If you get so lucky all the time, it starts to feel suspicious, somehow! You know what I'm saying? And really! What are you thinking, exposing your true identity to a person you just met!? That's bad writing!”

“Um...”

Was the stranger in shock? Her rapid spiel didn't make much sense to Yuliana.

Then again, it would've been weirder for the woman to not be the least bit frantic, after what just happened. The knight princess saw it best to ignore the blabber and instead try and soothe the lady with her contained manners,

“Ahem, in return for naming myself, may I inquire yours?”

“My name? Oh, um, it's Izumi...Itaka Izumi,” Izumi meekly introduced herself.

In the heat of the moment, she failed to come up with any cool western pseudonym or background setting for herself but merely named herself plainly like a job applicant.

“Quite a strange name you have. Ah, but then again, you've truly come from another world, haven't you? Forgive me, it still seems a bit difficult for me to accept. You don't seem that different from us on the outside, at least. Then, lady Izumi, allow me to explain the situation, hard as it may be for you to believe. By a certain magical ritual, you have been summoned here—”

“Ah, I get the gist of it,” Izumi interrupted her. “So I'll skip the tutorial, thanks.”

“Eh? You...do...?”

“Why, of course!” the woman nodded with sudden zeal. “I've been waiting for this turn of events for a looong, long time! And finally it happened! Thank goodness, it happened! This is another world, yes? A whole different world, a world of might and magic, where nobody has ever heard of Apple, K-Mart, Lawson, or McDonald's! I don't believe it! I'm so happy to be here!”

“Apples? We do have apples, though—”

“It's really been a long time! Couldn't you have summoned me just a little bit earlier, maybe? Again, I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining, no! After everything, I'm very grateful, definitely, but...Oh well, I'm here now, and that's all that matters. Thanks a bunch, Yu...Yu...What was it again? Yule! I'll call you Yule, okay? It's okay, right? Great! Let's be friends, Yule!”

The woman stepped forward, put the sword aside and rapidly shook Yule's gauntlet-clad hand.

“Eh, right…” It was Yuliana's turn to be at a loss for words.

So far as she understood, the summoning spell wasn't supposed to grant the champion any specialized knowledge. And yet, the woman said she had been 'waiting for it'? And why was the cold-blooded killer of those knights suddenly acting all bubbly with her?

“Er, in any case,” Yuliana set aside her confusion, encouraged by the foreigner's warm attitude, and decided to address a more urgent matter. “As said, I am thankful for your aid. I most certainly owe you my life, lady Izumi. If there is anything I may do to pay back this great debt, I shall make doing so my utmost priority. That being said, could I have my sword back now?”

The princess held out her hand expectantly.

In response, Izumi looked blankly back at her and replied,

“No?”

“E-excuse me…?”

“I said no?” Izumi repeated.

“Ah, I heard you just fine the first time! What I mean is, why not? What could be the problem? It was mine in the first place and I merely happened to drop it as I fell—”

“It's not nice to tell lies, Yule,” the woman interrupted her with a frown. “If it's yours, then how come those men insisted on having it? Why were they chasing you? You're not going to claim they were thieves, are you? With the way they were dressed and all.”

Yuliana was momentarily silenced.

Lying was hardly her forte.

It was true that the weapon wasn't strictly “hers”, she couldn't deny that. But on the other hand, she was a member of the royal family, technically, so she had a certain right to the blade. A right she would never be allowed to exercise normally, yes, but Izumi didn't need to know that much. The point was, if there was anyone here who had any legal claim to the weapon, it was definitely Yuliana and not this stranger from another world. Champion as she may have been by definition, this lady Izumi didn't seem like someone who could help Yuliana with her true mission. Still, trying to trick or extort her savior went against her principles. In the end, the princess saw no other choice but to explain things properly in order.

“That sword is called the Amygla,” she said. “It is one of a kind and essential to my mission. A mission, which means much not only to me and my country but to all the nations and races of this world, which is why I—”

“Yes, yes, I'm not really interested in that,” Izumi brushed her off, turning her back on Yuliana and going to look at the bodies left lying around on the slope.

“H-hey! Listen to me! This is important!” Yuliana demanded, offended.

“Don't wanna.”

“I said it's important!”

“And I said I'm not interested. Do we really speak the same language?”

“Why!?” Yuliana raised her voice, frustrated.

“It's always the world at stake and so on,” the woman answered. “I've heard that so many times. But I can't claim I'm in any way attached to a country and a planet I'm seeing for the first time. All that matters to me is that this world doesn't look very advanced or hospitable. So unless I have a good weapon, I'm probably going to die pretty soon. I'm just a lonely old woman, after all. This sword is sharp, really durable, well-balanced and feels good to hold. There's nothing more you could ask of a good sword, so I'm not giving it away just because you say pretty please and it's a big deal to somebody I don't know. It's better than what these guys have anyway, I can tell that much by a glance. You don't believe me? I dare say I have a good eye for quality goods! I haven't spent most of my life shopping online for nothing! Recognizing whether something is worth your money by just a glance at a grainy little jpg is an essential skill for someone as poor as I!”

“W-what do you mean many times? Pla...net? On line? Gee-pay...?” Yuliana couldn't keep up with the discussion at all.

“You don't really owe me a thing since I was only defending myself back there,” Izumi went on, “but if you really insist on paying me back, then I'd appreciate it if you could show me the way to the nearest town. That good enough?”

The knight princess stood still, dumbstruck.

Not only had Yuliana been deprived of her precious weapon, she was made into a guide as well. After everything she'd been through to get this far, despite the urgency of her task...And despite her rank. She had never used her status to claim superiority over other people, but just this once, she felt she deserved better.

But with her peaceful request turned down, it seemed the only way to get the Amygla from Izumi was to fight her for it. Yuliana shuddered at the thought. Being unarmed, her starting level in that attempt was even lower than that of the knights. The knights, who had fallen like helpless children.

Then, she saw something that made her forget about her fear.

“What are you doing?” she inquired the woman, who was busy searching the body of the nearest knight.

The answer staggered her yet again.

“What does it look like? Looting,” Izumi nonchalantly responded.

“What...!?”

“Throwing knives, pouches, belts, gloves, boots, coins, swords to sell—How nice that I wound up with such a quality haul right in the starter zone. This totally feels like cheating, but I won it all fair and square, didn't I? Nobody can claim I didn't.”

“Please step away from the body,” Yuliana told the woman and her tone turned commanding.

“Hm?” Izumi looked back at the girl, brows contorted in a questioning manner, as if she really had no idea what she was doing, aggravating the princess further.

“I will not allow you to desecrate the remains of these men, who fell in the line of duty, by robbing their corpses! Get away from him!”

“They're dead, though?” Izumi replied. “They're not going to need any of this stuff anymore, while I have nothing. What's wrong with helping myself? Otherwise it's all going to go to waste here.”

“You wretched—!” Barely able to restrain her anger, Yuliana took a step forward. “I won't repeat myself! Get away from that man right now!”

“You really are from the same country. And what will you do if I won't?”

“I will—”

“You'll fight me?”

At her words, the knight princess remembered again her helplessness and sullenly bit her lip. In her stead, Izumi stood up and continued,

“You'd kill me or die trying, to protect the memory of those who tried to kill you? What sense does that make? These men were your enemies, right? The chances are, they would be gangbanging you at the next bus stop by now, had I not appeared. Yet you act like these hunks of flesh and blood are somehow holy? I don't really get it. They're all gone now. That means you, the winner, own all that was theirs and can do whatever you please with it. Isn't that how it usually goes in a medieval setting like this?”

“Silence!” Yuliana didn't think she had ever been as furious and humiliated in her life, feeling her face burn. “They were knights, defenders of my homeland, not some miscellaneous bandits! They deserve better than that!”

“They were men. And wearing fancy clothes never made anybody a saint.”

“They had families, wives, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, and I mourn that it had to come to this! I will not allow you to scorn them with such unjust words! The fact that we ended up as enemies was by unfortunate circumstances only! That is all! I didn't want any one of them to die, even if it was to save myself! It was not right!”

“Well, almost everybody in the world has someone to miss them, even the bandits,” Izumi replied, unmoved by the girl's defense. “Yet everybody's got to die one day and it's rarely very pretty. Well, provided these guys were real to begin with.”

“What...?”

Her face like a mask, beautiful yet frighteningly cold, the woman continued,

“I'm not from this world, remember? That means, from my point of view, 'these people' are not 'the same as me'. For all I know, you might as well be NPCs, soulless, simulated automatons that only exist to set the stage. I have no real way to check if you're a person with a mind of her own, and not just a superficially convincing cluster of pixels and polygons operating on an algorithm by a highly advanced alien supercomputer. I only just booted up the game. Your feelings, bonds, and morals look like nothing but lukewarm flavor text to me. That's why, the only thing of importance to me here is myself. Getting too invested in the story mode would only mean needlessly crippling myself in the long run. That's all there is to it.”

Yuliana couldn't understand a word. She took a step back, her anger replaced by sheer dread.

This was a “champion”?

Exactly what had she unleashed into this world?

Was everyone a senseless lunatic like this, in Izumi's world?

“Ah, yes,” Izumi shook her head, “this is making me remember a lot of things that I already forgot about. About the past, I mean, when I was around your age. I had all these cute ideas about what I'd do when in another world. I thought I'd go the full immersion route. Pretend to be an amnesiac, live as one of you, act as one of you, play by your rules, talk to all the quest-givers, listen to their boring life stories, gather all the flowers and kill all the boars, diligently work my way up the ladders of the society, and so on and so on. But that was a long time ago. That was so terribly long ago. I'm already burned out on playing games that way. It only takes too long, and I'm not growing any younger. It's always the same anyway. The cliches and tropes, nothing ever changes. No matter how well done it is, how polished the packaging, I just can't find it in me to care anymore. My best days are already behind me. Every minute I sit bashing another infinitely respawning monster, I feel my life slowly drift away from me. And for what? Nothing at all. There's not enough time, not nearly enough time. I finally get to enjoy a thrilling adventure in a fantasy world for real, or as real as real can get, yet I'm still me, just the way I left. Isn't it too cruel? Don't you think it's just too terrible? I worked so long and hard for this. I went to learn martial arts under a pervy old geezer who would grope me at every opportunity. I begged for a dumb hipster blacksmith to take me as a pupil, and had to listen to his obnoxious geek talk all day long, for months. I spent the nights online looking up occult sites, testing out rubbish magic patterns and incantations, that did nothing. And that's just for the starters. What did I get for all that? Did anybody appreciate my efforts or encourage me? No way. 'Ah, that Itaka lass, what a dumb broad she is', 'does she do anything but play net games all day', 'why does she have a computer, when I have to work my ass off just to bring grub to the table for my kids?', 'what a damn leech, why can't she get a real job', 'she should just neck herself instead of wasting my tax money', 'somebody should give her a good dicking to get that dumb shit out of her head'. I'm lonely and despised and old and tired and beyond despair and then finally my ultimate wish came true. At last, it came true! I've finally come to a world where all that wasted effort pays off, where I'm the sane one and all those who laughed at me are wrong, and what then? 'Oh, you can't take the boots of the dead guy who tried to mash your head, because it goes against my morals'? Get real. Stop messing with me. Please crawl into a corner and die off, you big little baby.”

“Hii—!”

Overwhelmed by the creepy, machinegun-rate monologue imbued with negativity too great for any ordinary person to endure, Yuliana fell back on the ground, terrified and disgusted. It was all pure nonsense to her. All she could tell from that speech was that whoever this woman had been prior to coming to Ortho, her life hadn't been an easy one.

What should I do? What can I do? The princess feverishly weighed her options.

Clearly enough, this person was beyond her scope in combat. She had no hope of besting her, mentally or physically. Not without a weapon, at least. She glanced at the sword left lying next to another body. There it was, her chance. Surely it was okay to only borrow it for a moment? Yuliana shook her head. What was she thinking? Would she rob a corpse to keep corpses from being robbed? Would she kill to preserve the dignity of the killed? Did it make any sense whatsoever?

Still, these men belonged in their graves together with the arms and the uniform they had borne whilst alive. Such was the custom of her land—honor and chivalry demanded it. Every victor owed respect to the defeated, and had to at least ensure the deceased weren't needlessly shamed. Otherwise, people would've been no different from beasts. Letting a foul looter strip the fallen bare was insufferable as a thought. But if Yuliana tried to oppose this otherworldly monster, she was likely to end up sharing the fate of the men. She knew it. Perhaps it was a worthy death, but she was scared. Of course, she was scared.

Scared...?

Swallowing, Yuliana got an idea and got back up to her feet.

“Fine, have it your way then,” she said, her lips curving into a smile.

“Hm?” Sensing the change in her demeanor, Izumi frowned.

“So be it then. I'll fight you,” the princess said and quickly backed away, further down to the bottom of the gorge. “Well, not me. Someone else will.”

Izumi followed the girl's movements with furrowed brows.

What was the princess planning?

She clearly didn't have any weapons hidden, the form-conforming white dress extending from under the elegant armor left no room for such. So why the distance? To cast spells? Izumi had first assumed the attire to be only ceremonial in nature, but perhaps it was this country's standard outfit for the paladin class, knights capable of wielding magic?

This girl being a magic-user was the only way to explain how Izumi had ended up in this place, anyway.

Yet, something about it was off.

How could such a young and naive girl be able to cast a spell as powerful as to connect two worlds, yet be unable to defend herself against regular rank-and-file grunts? If she was a powerful caster, why did she want the sword? Because casting took too long? Because some specific conditions had to be met first? Because she really didn't want to fight her countrymen? Or because…?

Someone else would fight on her behalf?

She could summon something other than people too?

Or perhaps...

This could be just a little bothersome

Izumi gripped the Amygla's handle. Wouldn't it have been better to pre-emptively cut down the girl before she could finish her preparations? Though she acknowledged it as an option, the idea of killing Yuliana didn't sit well with Izumi.

All her talk about NPCs and such moments prior had been mostly just that—talk, venting.

For a person, who felt more sympathy for game characters than actual people, those words had been the pinnacle of irony. As desensitized as she was, Izumi was not completely heartless. The few words she had exchanged with Yuliana had already made the lonely woman a bit attached to her.

If it was a kill or be killed-situation, she would still set aside those feelings and fight. But was it, really?

The girl's preparations, that theatrical pose with her arms stretched to the sides, looked only comical. How thin she was, with her narrow neck and slightly concave cheeks where the delicate lines of her facial bones had become pronounced. Her light, silky hair was tightly pulled back and braided, emphasizing her pale, wide forehead, smeared in dirt, and glistening wet from the rain.

Still, regardless of how pitiful the princess's position was, the spirit burning in her blue eyes was dazzling. Watching it, Izumi couldn't bring herself to make a move, but only sighed powerlessly.

I'm really two-faced, aren't I?

Why couldn't she just say sorry?

It was too late now.

Not knowing what would happen, Izumi couldn't take any measures but only stood still and waited, hoping that their distance would give her enough time to react to whatever fantastic offensive was about to happen. And she was curious. The light now framing Yuliana rekindled the forgotten child within her. She was about to see real magic——nobody she knew could claim the same.

Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad way to die.

An elaborate pattern of pure light encircled Yuliana as she finished her mental preparations, knelt and chanted in her clear, resolute voice,

—“Hear me, o' radiant sprite, I beseech thee, the Noon of the White Sun. Become my blade, coat me in thy wings, bring upon thy foes the purifying blaze. Lord of Light, the keeper of my soul, thy vessel calls thee by thy hallowed name—Aesa Aiwesh!”

The princess lisped a little, like she had nearly bitten her tongue, but the ceremony was otherwise successfully completed.

There was a flash bright enough to make Izumi turn her face away. It even burned through her shut eyelids. Shielding her eyes with the greatsword, she now focused on her other senses, trying to detect whatever deadly force should come flying at her.

Nothing did.

In a short while, the light faded, and the scenery in the gorge returned to its usual bleakness.

With one exception.

Izumi lowered her weapon to see Yuliana Da Via Brannan's elegant figure gone.

In her place stood a woman taller and older than the princess, a tad taller than Izumi herself—and, clearly enough, not a human.

Clad in an extravagant, religious-looking attire, spotless white in color, the being appeared mostly like a human female, with slight differences.

She had hair even longer than she was tall, straight, and white like her attire. Besides an inhumanly beautiful face, her ears were long and slim, covered in white fur, and pointed horizontally to the sides. Above her head hovered a quietly rotating, halo-like circle, with radial spikes pointing in every direction. Two pairs of pure white wings extended from the being's mid back. Her bare feet weren't touching the ground, she floated above the rocks.

The being looked at Izumi with a pair of glittering, yellow-brown eyes, like smoky topazes, and smiled. Her body itself appeared to radiate light in the otherwise blue moment.

Izumi swallowed.

The spell had been for another summoning, after all?

Or was it body-swapping? Possession?

The being of light didn't look particularly aggressive, on top of being unarmed, but there was no way to tell if she didn't possess the mystic powers to turn Izumi to cinders with a flick of her finger. It was better to wait and see what would happen.

And yet, instead of attacking Izumi, the godly vision simply greeted her with a little curtsy,

“I am pleased to see you with my own eyes, o' champion. I am called Aiwesh, one of the Aesa, or Divines, which inhabit this world of Ortho. I am also the one who summoned you to us.”

“Um, how do you do?” Izumi answered.

“You have countless questions to ask, I am sure, but alas, the Lord of Light cannot easily tread the world of Dark. Needlessly prolonging my manifestation would burn away the life of my vessel, so we must keep our communion brief at this time.”

As Izumi kept quiet, the being, Aiwesh, went on,

“For now, it should suffice for you to know that you are in a world far detached from the conventions of your old. And while I was the catalyst, the conditions behind your transportation were not mine to choose, but decided by forces by far older and grander.”

“You mean it was my fate? Coming here?” Izumi asked.

“Fate?” Aiwesh repeated, with a light laughter. “Were you chosen in specific by the Gods, from among the peoples of your world, to play a role that only you can? If the thought consoles you...I am no God, but I do have a purpose in mind that I wish you to follow, now that you are here. Although, so far as I am concerned, you have already done your part. The worst has been averted. My vessel has escaped imprisonment.”

“What?” Izumi was surprised. “You only summoned me for that? To save Yule from those fellows? Not that I objected to coming here, but wasn't that a terribly whimsical reason to abduct somebody from another world?”

“Perhaps from your point of view,” Aiwesh admitted. “But to me, it was more than worth it. Had this child been captured or slain, I would not see the realization of my will for another thousand years, if ever. By comparison, your convenience seems a small price to pay, if you may pardon me saying so.”

“Because it's not a price you have to pay,” Izumi shrugged. “But, it so happens you got lucky. Because being summoned like this was what I always wanted, whatever the reason.”

“Is that so?” The mysterious spirit seemed amused. “Your wish was to be taken from your world, which I see has been but too kind to you, and be cast into the midst of pain, misery, and bloodshed? Despite being but a frail maid, past your prime? What a curious thing to long for. Are all the people in your world as curious as that?”

“Well, that's not what I meant, exactly,” Izumi said. “Surely there's something more than blood, misery, and pain to this world, right?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Aiwesh answered, an enigmatic smile on her lips. “All I can say for certain is that in Ortho, those who seek conflict are most certain to find it. Because it is a world of stark extremes and countless contradictory dreams.”

“Then, what is your dream?”

“Mine?”

“I don't suppose you're possessing the princess and worried about her well-being only out of the kindness of your heart? So what's the reason then?”

The Divine looked a bit surprised. But then chuckled faintly and answered,

“You are a curious person, Itaka Izumi. No one in this world would ever think to question one such as I. I do not hate that about you. Rather, I choose to view it as a trait of endearment. But the answer to your question has to be a story for another time. If you wish to be of use to me, then follow my vessel. If you may accept that as your 'fate'. But I fear destiny played no part in your selection. Now, I must leave you. We shall speak again, once the conditions are in my favor.”

Having said all she wanted—as if running away from actually answering, Izumi noted—the form of Aiwesh shattered into countless feathers of light, revealing the knight princess as they spread and faded.

“Well?” Blinking, dazed, and having trouble standing up straight, Yuliana triumphantly gazed at the woman.

It seemed she wasn't conscious of the time her body was possessed, as her assumed conclusion—written all over her face—was at odds with reality. “Too frightened to even speak? Well, it's not that I don't understand. The first time I met my Lord was a terrifying experience for me as well. Now that you understand the forces you are dealing with, obediently hand over my sword, unless you want to...Eh?”

Without listening, Izumi walked past the princess, down the gorge.

“W-what…?” Yuliana looked after her in confusion.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Izumi paused to look back and asked. “I don't know the way.”

Before chasing after the summoned woman, Yuliana turned to look over her shoulder, at the dead knights lying quietly on the slope, still bearing their arms, equipment, and clothes. A faint smile of relief softened the tension on her tired countenance, as she hurried to respond,

“Coming, right away!”

3

The odd pair of women resumed—or began, in Izumi's case—their long trek down the gorge. After about half an hour had passed in peaceful silence, Yuliana deemed their earlier argument settled and the time ripe for further questioning. Though she was technically the escort to the “visitor”, there was no way to get lost in the straightforward ravine, and so she often found herself trailing behind the older woman instead, occupied with trying to judge what manner of a person she was dealing with.

“What do you mean to do from now on?” Yuliana asked.

“Let's see,” Izumi looked up to the gloomy skies and pondered, “first of all, I suppose we need to find some food, shelter, and rest, in that order. It doesn't look like my body is any different from usual, so I'm getting pretty tired and hungry already.”

“That's not what I meant, exactly,” the knight princess said. “In a broader scale. What do you mean to do now that you are in another world? How do you plan to live your life in a place you know nothing about?”

Deep down, Yuliana had wished for a more compliant champion, something akin to a servant, a faithful, steadfast knight who would accept her as his commander without question. Someone who would patiently listen, do his best to understand and support her in her endeavors. Someone, well, reliable.

Now that I am here, allow me to become your sword and shield on your noble quest! Since I know nothing about this world, I shall depend on your guidance, o' beautiful maiden! I will learn from you and so find my place in your world.

Something along those lines.

From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, you have been on my mind without rest. I...I never wish to part with you again! The goal of my new life should be to be of use to you! Nothing could bring me more joy...

No, that was clearly going overboard already.

Yet...the summoned “hero” wasn't even male.

“My plan?” Izumi muttered. “Ah, that's right, the protagonist needs to have a goal, right? Something real important and compelling that gives our journey a purpose and keeps the audience hooked. I wrote down a bunch of ideas for that when I was still in high school, depending on how the situation would pan out. But really, none of that feels very important to me anymore. Since I'm here now, I guess I'll just explore the world and have fun for as long as I can.”

“Er...” Yuliana couldn't believe her ears.

Have fun? What kind of a half-baked “champion” was she? She sounded more like a pampered loiterer.

“Listen,” the princess said. “If you're looking for a purpose, perhaps I can give you one. But before I may do so, you must first come to understand what kind of a world you've gotten yourself into.”

“Uh-huh. You mean, what you have gotten me into.”

“It was not by my choice! But, ahem. Please listen. This world is called Ortho. A world of many continents and seas, it's shared by numerous independent nations and many different races. Some good and noble, others varying degrees less so. Some even hostile to all the others.”

“Isn't that how every world is?” Izumi said while covering a long yawn.

“...I have been wondering this since a while ago, but is this not your first time being summoned into another world?”

“It is, though.”

“Then please try to take this a little more seriously. You would be in great trouble out there without even knowing the basics, right?”

“I suppose so, yeah.”

“Where was I? Ah, yes. Somewhere approximately thirty thousand years ago, all the races in the world were united and lived together upon a great continent called, 'Galanthia' in the olden tongue, or 'the Golden Land'. The Divines and Gods all walked among us and people were said to have been far more advanced than we are today. But unfortunately, that time is now past. It is not known what caused it, exactly, as no written records exist from those days, but there came a war, the War of the Gods, which nearly destroyed the whole world.”

“What a surprise.”

“It's our history, I didn't make it up!”

“How convenient would it have been, had I been summoned to that 'Golden Land' instead? No, is the twist going to be, 'it was Earth all along, just in the future!?'”

“I have no idea what you're talking about...But if everything was fine and well, there would be no need to call for help from other worlds, would there?”

“Well, I'll give you that.”

Yuliana couldn't understand. Izumi should have known nothing about Ortho, so why did she act like she had heard the story before, many times? Yuliana always thought it was a thrilling legend, one she had made her grandfather tell her over and over again when she was a child. And it was not just any made-up fable, but real, true history, the way it happened.

“Either way,” she continued, “the great continent was torn apart in the war, much of lost in the sea. Wonderful, enormous cities were reduced to ashes, all the knowledge and arts with them. Many magnificent races, sentient and beasts, went suddenly extinct. Even a great number of the Gods themselves ceased to exist. The creation was only barely saved in the end.”

“Evidently, it was.”

Ignoring Izumi's remark, the princess continued,

“The Gods recognized that they were not immune to vices, and that the power they possessed was too great for the physical world. So they made the Covenant.”

“Covenant,” Izumi repeated, still without much enthusiasm.

“That's right. The Covenant, the defining event of our civilization. The Gods withdrew into another realm they made with their powers and vowed never to interfere in the affairs of the worldly races, no matter what should happen. Instead, they allowed the inhabitants of Ortho to govern themselves.”

In other words, there are no gods left, or anyone else who can prove that this ever happened, Izumi thought but didn't feel like picking a fight on purpose. The princess seemed convinced the story was true.

But Yuliana was better at reading people than she expected.

“Oh, I know what you are thinking,” the princess snidely glanced at her and said. “Nobody can prove this ever happened, right? Well, they can. Because the Covenant is still in effect today, even after thirty millennia.”

She was only repeating her old teacher’s argument, though.

“Hmm?” Izumi raised a brow. “What does that mean?”

“During the War of the Gods, the very core of Ortho received a crippling blow. Though the Gods swore never to interfere with this world again, the world couldn't keep on existing without the presence and support of its makers. If the Gods all left, the remaining lands would begin to collapse and everything would die. Keeping that from happening was also the purpose of the Covenant. And so, to both hold their word and sustain the lands, the Gods gave us the Trophaeum.”

“The trophe...What's that?”

For the first time, the woman seemed a little invested in the conversation.

Encouraged by this notion, Yuliana explained,

“Far at the ends of the western continent, across the sea, stands a titanic tower called the Trophaeum, a surviving relic from the Golden Age. Once every thousand years, nations of the world send their champions to conquer that tower. And whoever succeeds in reaching the very summit on the Night of the Covenant is said to obtain the power to nourish the world, prolonging and stabilizing its existence for another thousand years.”

“Ohhh, right, it's like that...” Against expectations, the grand revelation only made Izumi sigh and relax the tension that had sneaked up her shoulders. “And let me guess, you're going there, Yule?”

“Are you going to keep calling me that...?”

“It's a pet name! Isn't it cute?”

“Be serious! Like I said, this is an important matter! Yes, it is precisely as you have guessed. It has been a thousand years since the Covenant was last enacted, and I am on my way to challenge the Trophaeum as a (tentative) representative of the human race. I even managed to gain Lord Aiwesh's blessing. But it is an immensely difficult task. I'm afraid I'm going to need all available aid to succeed.”

“You do? Even though you got such a cool-looking, clearly five-star familiar? Couldn't she mess up that tower thing by herself?”

“What are you saying, my Lord is not a familiar!” Yuliana gasped in shock and shuddered. “Don't even joke about that! Terrible things will happen!”

“She's not?”

“No!”

“Then, she's a god?”

“No, the Divines are not Gods. It's a complicated matter. What I'm trying to say is, that to succeed, I cannot simply rely on the powers of others. To prove my worth, I must conquer the Trophaeum with my own strength. And for that, I'm going to need a good weapon. In other words, the Amygla. Yes, the one in your hands.”

“Is this some kind of a magic sword?” Izumi held up the blade again. “It's weirdly light for such a big thing, I guess, but does it do anything special?”

“Light…?” Yuliana grimaced. Aren't you just weirdly strong? “No, it's not a magic sword. It was forged by the elven smiths of Amarno more than eight thousand years ago, of mineral that fell from the stars. So the legends say. They also say its durability knows no equal. But disregarding its origin and constitution, however, it's just a sword. Well, it's not just a sword to me. It's the symbol of my kingdom, an heirloom of the royal family—my family. It's intimately bound to my nation and identity. I couldn't imagine challenging the Trophaeum using anything else. Which is why I must have it back.”

“I see, I see,” Izumi nodded. “That's a cool backstory indeed. You're such a brave girl, for all the things you're willing to do for your country and the world. There, there.”

“Don't pat my head!” The knight princess brushed Izumi's hand off. “I'm telling you to return the sword to me!”

“Well, that I can't do.”

“What do you mean, 'can't'? Did my story mean nothing to you? If it's only your personal safety you're worried about, then aren't there plenty of weapons in the world? No matter how you look at it, I need the Amygla more than you do!”

“I wonder about that,” Izumi shrugged. “The way I look at this tale, there was nothing threatening you, the princess of a cozy little kingdom. Yes, this quest of yours sounds pretty dangerous, but nobody's forcing you to do it, right? Even if you don't become the champion of the human race, won't somebody else, sooner or later? I figure there are more than enough volunteers. Then all the hassle and pain you're bound to face is purely self-inflicted, isn't it? You'd throw away your life in a generic tournament arc, which honestly smells like a big scam to me. By giving the sword back to you, wouldn't I only be enabling a suicide? Meanwhile, I, a lonely old woman, need the weapon to survive in a strange and hostile world! What guarantee do I have you won't simply abandon me here, tired, hungry and penniless, the second you get what you want?”

“That's...” Yuliana fell silent.

Not because she had actually intended to abandon the woman, but mainly because she hadn't thought that far ahead in the first place. What should Yuliana do with her? The decision to summon Izumi hadn't been hers, but then again, as the vessel of Aiwesh, she undeniably had some responsibility in the matter.

Moreover, the code of chivalry bound her to help those in need. There was no way they could simply go their separate ways after what happened. Yet, there was no way Yuliana could drag this woman with her to what was so aptly described as a suicide mission. The “champion” was clearly not even willing.

Either way, one of them was going to have to give up on her wishes.

Oh, for goodness' sake...

“Fine,” the princess made up her mind. “Then how about this? After I escort you to the nearest town, I shall take it upon myself to find you a proper place to live in. I should have enough coin to provide for your needs, however long you should like. That's good enough, isn't it? You will have a safe haven, where you may get accustomed to your new life at your leisure, and won't be needing the sword anymore.”

“It's not a bad offer and I really appreciate your generosity,” Izumi immediately answered, “but I'm going to have to refuse.”

“And why is that!?”

“Why, why, why, there's nothing but that from you, is there?”

“What else do you expect me to say? I believe it to be a very fair deal! A dream too good to be true for most people.”

“Well, I'm not 'most people' and I don't think it would be any fun at all, being holed up in some shady backwater village, all by myself. That'd be no different from how it was at home. Boring! Don't wanna! Like I said, I'm going to go explore and see everything there is to see about this world! So I'm going to need the sword more than you do.”

“You would refuse stability and security in favor of traveling under the constant shadow of death, with no particular goal or reason?” Yuliana sighed. “You must be the maddest person I've ever met. Or have you already lost your will to live?”

“That's the pot calling the kettle,” Izumi replied. “You're pretty odd to me too. Why is it that you, of all the people in the world, must go to that tower, or whatever? You said every nation is sending their champion, right? Then does it really matter who saves the world in the end? Do you just want power?”

“That's...” The girl paused for a bit. “...Well, I cannot deny it. You are right. I want power. But not for my own sake, dubious as it may sound. The thing is, according to the legend, whoever conquers the Trophaeum and receives the power to resuscitate the world, will also be allowed to have any one of their personal wishes granted. No matter what kind of a wish it is.”

“Right, right. I was wondering what was the catch. Of course, nobody would bother without a bait like that.”

“It is a reward for valor, not a bait!”

“So Yule has a wish only a godlike power can make happen?”

“That's right,” Yuliana nodded. “I do have one. A wish that would be impossible without.”

“And what is it? You're not keeping it a secret, are you?”

“I see no reason to hold secrets from you. No, I will tell you, Lady Izumi.”

“Um, could you stop with the 'lady' thing? It's really weirding me out.”

“It is? Then would Mrs Izumi be more appropriate? It's a bit difficult to pronounce, if you pardon me.”

“If you're going with that, it should be Ms Izumi, though,” the woman corrected her.

“Eh?”

“I'm not married—is what I'm saying.”

“Ah, pardon me,” Yuliana quickly apologized. “I'm very sorry for your loss.”

Somehow, a strange misunderstanding had happened, making Izumi frown.

“No, I'm not a widow either. I was never married in the first place.”

“Eh...Haaaa!?” Yuliana staggered. “W-what do you mean, you were never married? Your world doesn't know marriage? Then how do your loved ones legalize their relationships? S-surely you don't practice unrestrained polygamy…?”

“I should be more surprised your world knows marriage too. No, that's not the point, is it? Our people do get married, alright, but I never did, that's all.”

The princess's confusion only deepened.

“Why? How? You don't like men?”

“Setting my preferences aside, it's just a bit hard to marry when nobody has ever proposed to you. Or more like, because you've never had a date in the first place...”

“But that's—impossible, isn't it!?” Yuliana couldn't wrap her mind around the idea. “Does that mean you have no children either? Just, how can that be? It's absurd! I mean, at your age...Did your people keep you locked up in a dungeon or a tower? Was your father such a tyrant? Or were you cursed at birth by an evil sorceress? Oh, how awful...I am truly sorry for bringing up such a sorrowful memories…!”

“No, it's a sore topic, that's for sure, but not the way you think...”

In Yuliana's world, it was common for girls to marry by the time they became of age, at fifteen. The children of nobles would often become engaged already at twelve or thirteen, sometimes as early as nine. Considering the low average life expectancy for both sexes, being unmarried still in adulthood was simply weird. A maiden had to be either a nun, a witch apprentice, or otherwise burdened by exceptional, unnatural conditions.

In Izumi's case, the story was simple, however.

Not like nobody ever showed any interest.

Just, Izumi would summarily reject every candidate without exception until the end of high school, by the logic that she would have to split up with them anyway once the time came to depart for the other world. Expecting a couples' ticket would've been too much asked, if the partner even wanted to go.

Worse yet, what if such a golden opportunity was presented to her, only for her to realize she no longer wanted it because of love! She could've turned down a literal miracle because of a momentary emotion! What a tragedy!

No lingering attachments—such had been her rule.

And there was always the chance that virginity was one of the necessary conditions to become a “chosen one”. It was a fairly common topic in fantasy tales, after all. Spoiling her chances because of an instance of carnal desire really would have been too bad.

When she got into her twenties, no portals to another world had appeared, and her biology was starting to get demanding, Izumi got more relaxed with her conditions.

However, by that point, she also discovered it was hopelessly too late.

The social networks she had failed to build during her school days wouldn't help her meet potential partners. Nobody would randomly approach her out on the streets either, or come pick her up from her house, of course.

Instead of going to college, like most people she knew, she went on to study martial arts, kenjutsu, and various other archaic, marginal activities. Those hobbies provided contact with lots of new people, yes, but training was training, she wasn't keeping her eyes open “that” way while building her stats.

There was an occasional attempt, both ways, but the already cemented peculiarity of Izumi's personality and the lack of realistic, long-term goals in life ensured nothing ever came of it.

Then Izumi turned thirty and became a walking human-repellent.

Which brought us to the bitter result.

By her thirty-eighth birthday, Itaka Izumi remained an unmarried, kissless virgin.

Maybe she really was cursed?

Sometimes, deep down, she found herself hoping that someone would take her by force, make her abandon her senseless lifestyle and drag her out to where real life and everyone else was waiting, spell out loud what she already knew—that she had to get a grip and live as a human being on Earth.

Nobody did. It wouldn't happen.

Getting so involved with someone, taking responsibility of their life, what real person with a life of their own would be willing or able to tackle a burden that heavy and emotional?

One Monday morning, looking in the bathroom mirror in her small, shady apartment, Izumi unexpectedly reached enlightenment.

“That's right, why would I need anybody?” the Izumi in the mirror had told her with a hollow smile. “All men should just go die. All happy couples should burn. Hahaha.”

A mysterious sense of joy and relief, like the warm flames of a bonfire, had filled her upon that realization, and Izumi had at once become freed of all pain, stress and anxiety for the future.

There was something rather sinister about those flames, but she didn't pay it mind. What was and what was going to be, ceased to matter.

There was only the present, where she was perfectly alone, perfectly in balance—and perfectly free.

From that point on, her life became almost frighteningly light to bear.

Even taking life—had become frighteningly light.

“More importantly,” Izumi pushed her recollections aside, “does that mean you're already married, Yule?”

“That naming sense is going to stick, isn't it?” Yuliana responded with a sigh. “I am engaged, yes. Formally, at least. My husband was already chosen for me before I was born. But though I am already nineteen, we have not been wedded yet. I delayed the ceremony the best I could. Because...Well, because my wish to the Covenant would make a wedding impossible. My father, the King, was vehemently opposed to me leaving on this journey, so I stole the Amygla and escaped the capital on my own.”

“Hence the pursuers,” Izumi nodded. “So what kind of a wish was it?”

Without batting an eye, Yuliana announced,

“My wish is to redo my life as a man.”

“Eeh...?”

For once, it was Izumi's turn to be stunned.

“My father was not blessed with a son as his proper heir,” the princess explained. “There is no law prohibiting a queen from ruling, but since the ancient times, Langoria has been governed by a king. The citizens might not accept a breach in the line, or me as their leader. The King has never fully embraced me as his child either. I have never been mistreated for who I am, mind you. Yet, at the same time, I grew up feeling like a stranger at my own house. A visitor who stays indefinitely, yet who is always expected to leave. Ever kept at a distance, regarded like a fine vase or a flower rather than a person, a friend, family. Even joining the army and becoming a knight officer couldn't change that. I...My only wish now is to free my parents of their shame. Give them a son they may love. Give my people the strong king they deserve, who will make them proud to be Langorians again. I am willing to face any challenge to make it so.”

“You really do love your country, huh?” Izumi said. “Even though they've branded you a criminal for wanting to sacrifice so much for their sake?”

Yuliana looked down, dejected over all the trouble she had caused.

“It couldn't be helped,” she said, “it's not their fault. They wouldn't know my dreams. No way I could tell them either. I just have to make sure I succeed. Then all will be better.”

“I wonder about that, but who am I to say...”

“Shall we do it like this then, Lady Izumi?” Yuliana raised her lavender eyes again. “If you're not willing to part with the sword, then will you bring it with you and join me in my cause? Truth be told, I did not wish to involve you in my country's problems, far less my own. As a knight, I couldn't easily ask you to stake your life. Your summoning was something of an accident and you bear no responsibility in the matter. I still owe you for saving me as well. Nevertheless, your strength is genuine, as I have verified with my own eyes. If you mean to become an adventurer and there is no turning your head, then what is this if not an adventure of the highest order? I am certain our chances of succeeding would be higher together.”

“You can take on this tower challenge as a team?”

“There are no rules prohibiting it, as far as I know. Even though only one can obtain the reward waiting at the summit and become Ortho's savior.”

“Right. Good to know,” Izumi answered. “I'm not even going to try, though. Thanks for the invite.”

The woman's nonchalant refusal again knocked the air out of Yuliana.

After everything she had said...!

“W-why is that…?”

“What do you mean, why?” Izumi asked in return, as though the answer was clear as day, “I should help you become a man? Why would I want that! You're so cute too! No way. Absolutely not! Never in a million years. Even if I could get my share of the glory, I'm not interested in becoming a god or a savior. That's just boring! I already had my lifelong wish fulfilled, so there's nothing in it for me. Like I said, this whole tournament thing smells, big time. No thanks. Please give up on it.”

“No good, is it...” The knight princess hung her shoulders in apathy.

Yuliana had believed herself to be accomplished in the way of diplomacy, yet her eloquence had yielded no results whatsoever. Her feet felt a great deal heavier, as they continued their journey.

“By the way,” Izumi suddenly spoke up, “can you tell me more about Ai-chan?”

“Who?”

“Ai-chan,” Izumi repeated.

“You don't mean Lord Aiwesh, do you...?” Yuliana realized and let out a nervous laughter. Izumi shortened the name of a Divine too? Thank goodness the Lord of Light was a benevolent spirit. Had it been a more destructive Lord, there was no telling what she would have done, for being disrespected by meager mortals. “To be honest with you, I do not know much about her, but is there a specific question on your mind?”

“Don't worry. This is easy. How come you ended up being possessed by an angel?”

“Angel? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the word... In any case, as said, Lord Aiwesh is one of the Divines, 'aesa' in the ancient tongue, a spiritual entity created by the Gods of old, as their servant. It is said that during the Golden Age, there were millions of Divines around the world. And even after the Gods left, when the Covenant was formed, the Divines remained. Each is bonded with a specific 'element', whence they draw their power and sustenance as spirits. After so long, most of them have become barely sentient, invisible faeries that do not deal with people. No different from air or water or whatever element they preside in. But a few are different.”

“Is that so?” Izumi nodded in understanding. “Then, since you're calling her the 'Lord of Light', that means Ai-chan's element is 'light'.”

“You would be correct,” Yuliana nodded. “How should I explain this...? Lord Aiwesh has always been close to our people and also something of a guardian spirit of Langoria. She grants us her blessing and protection in exchange for reverence. Because of that, there was no way for me to claim the Amygla without her approval. To do so, I formed a pact with her and became her vessel.”

“Hm? But why's that? Why did she want you as her vessel?”

“I wouldn't dare question a Divine Lord's motivations!” Yuliana cringed. “Though I suppose it has little to do with my personal merits. The Divines are said to at times possess vessels, because as spirits in their natural state, they cannot easily manifest or interact with the physical world. If I am able to pay back to my Lord by aiding her with whatever objective she has in mind, then I will gladly do so.”

“Hmm? But hasn't she totally failed at her job, being a guardian spirit, yet joining hands with a thief and ditching her kingdom?”

Ouch. Yuliana could feel even the normally ambivalent spirit within her shift restlessly.

“Just so you know, as I am her vessel, Lord Aiwesh is present within me at all times. And she can follow our conversation perfectly well, so could you please not insult her too much...?”

“What's she gonna do?” Izumi carried on. “A spirit of light? I know this type. They're the holy do-gooders who are all rainbows and sunshine all the time. Yet she can't even materialize when it's night time, or save her own vessel from a pinch, what a no-good Divine.”

“H-hey!”

“By the way, why is it that you refer to her as 'Lord of Light'? Shouldn't it be a 'Lady of Light' instead? Or what, is 'she' crossdressing? It's a trap?”

“Are you picking a fight with her on purpose now!? Enough of your slander!” Yuliana was getting angry and anxious at once and tried to change the topic by quickly explaining. “Some Divines are called 'Lords' not because of their gender, but because of their rank among the spirits. Lords hold sovereign authority in their element. See, as the Lord of Light, my Lord rules over the entirety of the element of Light, which means that in her presence, no other spirit, monster, or a sorcerer may draw upon the same element unless she allows it. Due to this, when it's daytime, my Lord's power is said to be equal to a lesser God. So I would appreciate it if you didn't annoy her too much.”

“Yet conversely, she can do nothing when it's night time. Or without a vessel,” Izumi nodded. “So there are a whole lot of these Lords in this world? If there are light spirits, does that mean there are dark ones too? Are there many as strong as Ai-chan?”

“It's a complex subject, much debated by the scholars,” the princess reservedly answered, “and to be perfectly honest, I didn't even believe the Divines were real until I met my Lord. Of course, every little town and village out there will claim there's a Divine watching over them, but whether that's true or not is another matter. I have never seen another Lord, at least.”

“I see, I see,” Izumi nodded again. “Then, anything else you could tell me? Listening to you talk is almost making me forget how much my feet hurt.”

“...Our world really doesn't matter much to you, does it?” Yuliana gave the woman a look of deep disapproval.

“Don't get upset,” Izumi evaded her glare and stopped to shake a stone out of her slipper. “The setting does sound pretty cliché to me, yeah, but I have to confirm all kinds of things to get by, don't I? But I'm reeeally getting sleepy and hungry here, and I'm always grumpy when I'm sleepy and hungry. Is it going to be long until the next town? Don't you have anything edible with you?”

“I lost my supplies when I abandoned my horse,” Yuliana answered. She was beyond exhausted herself, after a long day on the run. Manifesting Aiwesh at night took a great deal of her own vitality as well, and her arm and leg still hurt from the fall. Fortunately, the presence of the Divine also boosted her body's natural healing faculties, so she should've been fine by the next morning. Moreover, she was a knight. She had to endure this much without complaints.

“Fortunately, it shouldn't be much longer now,” she said. “We should exit the gorge soon, on the outskirts of the principality of Luctretz. There is a town, Grelden, close to the border. My father's knights will not pursue us that far, provided more are even coming.”

As the princess predicted, they soon stepped out of the gorge for a view over vast expanses of land. Cultivated fields extended from the root of the small mountain range all the way to the unseen horizon. And northeast from where the two women stood, around a narrow river streaming down from the cliffs, was a tidy, cozy-looking town, about a mile across, protected by a circular stone wall and smaller settlements around it.

Or, that's what they would've seen, had it been day.

In the dark, rainy night, only the lights of the town and the pale shapes of the nearest fields were visible, the rest of the details smeared together into a dark gray mass carpeting the land.

Admiring the view anyhow, inhaling deep of the fresh, damp night air, Izumi couldn't help but laugh. It was relieved laughter, but also a bit pained. It had taken a long, long time, but she was finally here. She was really here. Her dream had come true. Everything before her was completely unknown and new to her. A world waiting to be conquered.

It hadn't been only her madness.

“What's funny?” Yuliana asked with a questioning look in her eyes. “Not up to your tastes? The town.”

“No, it's only just starting to sink in,” Izumi said. “I'm not asleep right now, am I?”

The princess couldn't hope to understand. Beside her stood someone, who had been snatched from her home by supernatural powers, cast straight into battle, into rain and cold, in an alien world with mysterious forces, and no guarantees for the future. She had every right to be upset, angry, distressed, shocked, and dejected—and then some.

So why, why did this Itaka Izumi look like she could barely contain her excitement?

What a weird “champion”.