It was the night before Ikael left for Bakuba Volcano.
Kairon secretly summoned his attendant knight.
"Take this to Ikael."
"Pardon?"
After hearing Kairon's order, Zen, the attendant knight, questioned him without meaning to.
What Kairon held out was the seventh Demon Sword.
"How strange. You do not move at once when I give an order."
Kairon's face, half hidden by faint moonlight, was smiling.
Zen was even more surprised by that sight.
Kairon himself knew best what the seventh Demon Sword meant.
Yet for someone ordering such a sword be given to his child, Kairon's attitude was far too calm.
'A cursed sword.'
That was what the seventh Demon Sword was.
Zen hesitated, unable to readily accept the sword.
Everything concerning Ikael so far has been surprising.
It was shocking that sickly Ikael had taken Isitor's sword, and that Kairon had taken notice of Ikael because it was an even greater anomaly.
It was enough to stir Bronze Castle.
Yet even amid all that, Zen had thoroughly concealed his emotions.
Zen was a Seven-Star Knight who remained at Kairon's side. As such, it was his principle never to voice questions, even when he had them.
But giving the seventh Demon Sword to Ikael was a matter on an entirely different level.
Even Zen could not help questioning it.
When Zen hesitated, Kairon spoke again.
"What is the matter, Zen? Was this not something bound to happen someday? Ikael was born with such a fate."
Zen also knew that this moment would come someday.
Ikael had merely been placed on the testing ground a little earlier than expected.
"...I accept the order."
Zen raised no further objections and respectfully accepted the seventh Demon Sword.
This Demon Sword, soon to be delivered to sickly Ikael, was oppressive merely to hold.
'Will he become the master of the Demon Sword, or be devoured by it?'
The hidden seventh Demon Sword was a sword that might cleave Ikael's life in two.
* * *
Ikael soon finished preparing to leave for Bakuba Volcano.
"Young Master Ikael, please take good care of yourself!"
The maids of Ikael Palace saw him off in tears.
"Do not worry. I am not going to die."
"But going to receive a Demon Sword means dying... Mmph!"
One maid, unable to read the room, did not get to finish her thought before another maid covered her mouth.
It was not a funeral, yet the atmosphere was already gloomy.
'They have reason to worry.'
Bakuba Volcano was the largest and most dangerous volcano on the continent.
He had been told to find the blacksmith who lived there and return with a sword.
To maids who knew Ikael as a sickly young master, it felt no different from a death sentence.
'That is why I have to go.'
Going to the volcano to receive a sword was Recrit's rite of passage.
The moment he gained his own sword, he could be recognized as a true Recrit.
And among the Recrit brothers, only Ikael had not received a sword.
Ikael looked straight at a maid.
"Tell me, who am I?"
"Well... You are Young Master Ikael."
"Yes. I am Ikael Pui Recrit."
Ikael emphasized the four-character name that followed his own: Recrit.
'When I return from the volcano holding a Demon Sword, no one will be able to look down on me.'
Becoming a true Recrit. That was Ikael's new goal.
"Young Master Ikael, you must be careful!"
"I said I know."
Responding perfunctorily to the maids' cries, Ikael checked his bundle.
A rough map to Bakuba Volcano and Kairon's personal letter. A little water and food.
It was far too meager for a journey toward treacherous Bakuba Volcano.
There was a reason it was so simple.
Leaving for Bakuba Volcano was itself the trial laid before Ikael.
He had been given a signal pendant for use in case his life was truly in danger, but Ikael had no intention of using even that.
'This is not simply about getting a sword. It is a test of whether I am qualified to be Recrit.'
It was something he had to accomplish alone.
Then Zen, Kairon's attendant knight, came to see him.
"Young Master Ikael. I have come to give you a Demon Sword."
Light flashed in Ikael's eyes at the sight of the Demon Sword.
'I had hoped and feared it, but he is really giving me this.'
The seventh Demon Sword.
As the strongest swordsman family, Recrit possessed enough secrets, strictly guarded, to fill several archives. Only Kairon and a few people he trusted could enter those archives.
In his previous life, Ikael had been one of the few people allowed into the secret archives.
There, he had learned the identity of the seventh Demon Sword clearly.
'The sword that pierced the Demon King's heart.'
Kairon had used several swords while fighting the Demon King, but it was the seventh sword that pierced the Demon King's heart and brought him down.
The demonic energy overflowing from the sword went without saying.
Naturally, it was a sword no one could hold, nor should hold.
'What does giving me this sword mean? Does it mean I must prove that I am a child of Recrit, or die?'
The thought was so like Kairon that Ikael was almost awestruck.
The seventh Demon Sword was rusted and corroded in places. At a glance, it was no more than a lump of scrap metal.
Yet merely looking at it made him feel a grimness. That was enough to show it was no ordinary sword.
Meanwhile, Zen was studying Ikael's reaction.
'Will Young Master Ikael be able to handle the seventh Demon Sword?'
From the moment he received the Demon Sword from Kairon the night before, Zen had felt as though something was overwhelming him.
It felt as though shadows wriggling out from the Demon Sword were creeping over and consuming his body.
'Lord Kairon handled such a Demon Sword without the slightest difficulty? As expected of the owner of Dark Aura.'
Dark Aura was aura that only Kairon could use, a power he completed when he entered the Demon Realm.
Dark Aura, a more advanced form of Freezing Aura, was said to consume everything on earth.
Because Kairon was its owner, he could hold a Demon Sword without a care.
Zen was curious as well.
'What about Young Master Ikael? Will he be able to handle a Demon Sword?'
Zen delivered the Demon Sword to Ikael and watched his expression.
Ikael slowly lifted the Demon Sword.
"Ugh."
A small groan escaped him.
After examining the Demon Sword for a moment, Ikael offered a brief impression.
"It is heavy."
"Pardon?"
"It is heavy. Did you feel nothing while carrying a Demon Sword here?"
"That is..."
Zen was briefly flustered.
'Heavy. That is all?'
For a moment, Kairon's attitude, treating the seventh Demon Sword as though it were a lump of metal, overlapped with Ikael's.
The Demon Sword was certainly heavy.
But the immensely unpleasant sensation that seemed to rummage through his insides had made Zen briefly forget that the sword was heavy.
Zen, a Seven-Star Knight, had been affected to that extent, yet Ikael had only one thing to say: that it was heavy.
It was impossible to believe.
"In any case, I have received it well."
"Ah... Please return safely, Young Master."
Zen bowed and offered his greeting.
Zen could not tell whether Ikael was truly calm or merely pretending to be.
'Or does he possess some power equal to Dark Aura?'
An absurd thought briefly crossed Zen's mind.
'Whether Young Master Ikael is the owner of the seventh Demon Sword will become clear through this trial.'
Zen had never even considered doubting Kairon, but he had wondered whether Kairon was truly right about this choice.
The seventh Demon Sword entrusted to a sickly young master was closer to a curse than a gift.
Even so, Zen knew it.
In the end, he would say that Kairon had been right.
* * *
Not long after setting out, Ikael realized it.
"This is fucking awful."
The Demon Sword was fucking heavy.
It could not be compared to the ordinary sword hanging at Ikael's waist.
Still, it proved that this truly was the seventh Demon Sword.
A sword that looked as flimsy as a lump of scrap metal could not possibly be this heavy if it were made of metal from the human realm.
"Ngh..."
With every step, the Demon Sword slung over his shoulder seemed to press down on him.
'Still, I am happy.'
The Demon Sword's weight was the weight of an opportunity Ikael had made for himself.
Slowly, but steadily, Ikael moved forward.
But the Demon Sword was not the only thing catching at Ikael's ankles.
SCREEECH—
"Stop clinging to me, damn it!"
Demonic beasts attacked from every direction.
CRUNCH—
Ikael drew the longsword at his waist and swung it.
The demonic beasts went flying away in all directions.
Perhaps because the Demon Sword slung over his shoulder carried the familiar scent of the Demon Realm, demonic beasts attacked him without pause.
'It is ironic that I have to carry a Demon Sword around yet cannot even use it.'
For the time being, he had to use the longsword he had brought separately rather than the heavy Demon Sword.
'Is it crazier to fight demonic beasts while carrying such a heavy Demon Sword, or is Recrit crazier for driving a child into a place where he could die?'
Deciding that both were mad, Ikael diligently cut down the demonic beasts.
It was a grueling journey for an eleven-year-old boy, but Ikael did not seek a shortcut.
If there was one thing he sought from this journey, it was Bakuba Volcano itself.
'It provides conditions that are absolutely favorable for aura cultivation.'
WHOOO—
Even at that moment, Ikael focused on the Aura Circle in his heart.
The Desert Aura that had been faintly felt flared as he drew closer to Bakuba Volcano.
Aura cultivation was the act of absorbing nature's power in a way that suited one's body.
For a hot aura, it was basic to cultivate even before a hot campfire.
'But if I cultivate an aura at Bakuba Volcano, the hottest place on earth, it will be insanely efficient.'
Knowing that, Ikael intended to cultivate aura the whole way to Bakuba Volcano.
The heat of the active volcano would add even more strength to Desert Aura.
* * *
Crackle, crackle—
Before he knew it, night had fallen. Ikael sat before a campfire.
'I should rest here today.'
There was plenty to eat in the forest.
The monster crocodile that had rushed at Ikael, drooling over the sight of him, had instead been beaten by Ikael and turned into a skewer roast.
"Roasted crocodile tail. It has been a long time."
Even after he ate his fill, plenty of crocodile tail remained.
It was a rough but abundant meal.
Doing this reminded him of his previous life, when sleeping outdoors had been an everyday occurrence.
It was the time when he had dreamed of becoming a knight and ran forward with his eyes fixed only on Recrit.
'...It has all passed.'
Recrit was now only a name that meant enemy to Ikael.
"Hoo..."
Ikael cast off the thought and straightened his posture.
Being outside like this was precisely an opportunity to cultivate aura without worrying about anyone watching.
Slowly—
Ikael met the campfire's gaze.
He focused solely on the flames, so deeply that he did not even notice the crocodile tail burning in the fire.
Recalling the sensation from when he succeeded in cultivating aura, he poured all his attention into his heart.
WHOOO—
The campfire, which had been burning quietly, began to rise gently.
The deeper Ikael became immersed in aura cultivation, the more the campfire blazed.
Flames flickered in Ikael's silver eyes.
WHOOSH—
At last, when he felt an aura strongly enough for his heart to burst, Ikael opened his eyes.
"Hoo."
At the same time Ikael exhaled, the campfire returned to normal.
Ikael put a hand on his still-thumping heart.
His heart held far more heat and power than usual.
It was a clearly different sensation.
'It is Bakuba Volcano after all.'
Ikael's face brightened.
According to legend, Desert Aura was hotter than anything on earth and fed on things that burned, steadily becoming stronger.
The boiling heat of Bakuba Volcano would set Desert Aura alight.
'I am growing stronger.'
Nothing made Ikael happier than that.
Though he was soaked in sweat and breathing hard, his expression was bright.
Before he knew it, night had grown deep.
Ikael hugged his sword and fell asleep against a tree.
Rustle—
At some point, a group of shadows emerged from the brush and surrounded Ikael.
"See? I told you I saw flames flickering here."
It was a band of thieves who preyed on travelers.
"Let us rob the sleeping bird before he wakes, Boss."
"But that bundle looks shabby. There does not seem to be much of value."
"Still, he is pretty enough that he might be a young master from a noble family. Look at him sleeping while hugging that sword. He must be a pampered coward."
The bandits boldly began rummaging through Ikael's bundle.
"Oh, look here! There is another sword."
One of the bandits had found the seventh Demon Sword.
"What is so good about that worn-out sword? Throw it away."
Their senses were not developed enough to feel the Demon Sword's energy.
To their eyes, it looked like nothing but a worn-out lump of scrap metal.
Then Ikael quietly opened his eyes.
"If I were you, I would not touch that sword carelessly."