The Nameless Village of the Clausel territory was the frontier land overseen by Ren’s father, Roy Ashton. In recent years, its reputation as a backwater settlement had become a relic of the past. With the improvement of nearby roads, the village had grown into a well-known transit point for travelers from the former Given Viscounty and beyond—a charming, secluded getaway for those in the know.
Whispers had begun to circulate that the village finally deserved a proper name. Travelers, merchants, and the villagers themselves frequently sent petitions to that effect. It was now a winter village, bustling with an energy that intensified with every passing year.
Across this land, now blanketed in a layer of snow that shimmered like pure silver, a young knight came galloping. He had ridden a swift horse all the way from the heart of the Clausel territory. Villagers watched him pass with bated breath, wondering what news could warrant such frantic haste.
The knight pulled his horse to a stop in front of the Ashton manor.
"What happened?" the guards stationed at the village called out, rushing toward him. "Is there an incident?"
A bright grin broke across the young knight's face. "No trouble at all! It’s not an emergency, so don't you worry!"
He snatched a bag from his saddle and left his horse with the other guards before rushing onto the manor grounds. In the garden, Roy Ashton was inspecting the spoils of a hunt he’d conducted before dawn. Though Roy was increasingly occupied with the village’s administrative growth, he made it a point to personally monitor the forest every day.
"You certainly seem to be in a hurry," Roy remarked, his voice calm and steady. "Did something happen?"
Roy’s dignified features were as serene as his tone. He had matured significantly as a leader; the man who once struggled with paperwork was now the dependable head of a settlement that was rapidly approaching the scale of a proper town.
"Pardon the intrusion, sir. I have something I needed to tell you immediately," the knight said. He opened his bag and produced a newspaper. It was a publication usually found only in the Imperial Capital or Erendir, far beyond Clausel’s typical circulation.
"A newspaper? I’ve been reading them more often lately, but..." Roy trailed off. A few years ago, a newspaper would have been a rare sight in this village, but now they arrived frequently with the merchants.
"I have an article here you simply must see."
Roy scanned the headline the knight pointed out. His breath hitched. With a quick word of thanks, he took the paper and hurried inside the manor.
Ren’s mother, Mireille Ashton, looked up in surprise as her husband burst into the room. "Oh? Is something wrong?"
"Look at this!" Roy spread the paper across the table in the entrance hall.
The article detailed the recent monster sightings in the Ignat and Leonall territories. It mentioned that the Demon King Cult had been behind the attacks and that the monsters had already been subjugated. But the part that caught their breath came next:
'In the recent disturbance, the Director of the Lion Holy Chancel was dispatched to personally slay the beasts. Many witnesses reported a young boy at her side, one who is known to frequent the Lion Holy Chancel daily...'
Mireille and Roy shared a complex look—a mixture of pride that their son was doing well and a wry sense of exasperation that he had once again found himself in the middle of a grand spectacle.
The knight who had brought the news watched them, expecting a celebration. Instead, the couple crossed their arms and frowned.
"Is something wrong?" the knight asked, bewildered.
"Well... it’s just..." Roy hesitated before pointing to the text. "It says here he's a knight serving House Clausel, and a Sword Saint. Just how strong is a 'Sword Saint,' exactly?"
Mireille nodded along, looking just as confused. The knight stood frozen, his jaw dropping. "Y-You didn't know?!"
"We’ve lived in this village our whole lives," Mireille explained gently. "We don't really know much about how things work in the big cities."
"But it’s a big deal, right?" Roy asked.
"A big deal?! In this entire Empire, there are only a handful of people with that kind of power! If he's reached the Saint-class of Strong Sword Arts, he's basically a living legend! A hundred men like me couldn't even put a scratch on him!"
"Oh! Is that so?" Roy's eyes widened.
"How wonderful! He’s really made something of himself," Mireille added with a smile.
The knight exhaled a sigh of relief, though he realized that even he couldn't fully grasp the extent of Ren’s current strength. To a normal knight, the realm of the Strong Sword Arts was beyond imagination.
"Well," Roy said, looking out toward the horizon. "That’s just like Ren."
Sunlight broke through the winter clouds, illuminating the Sword Rock that stood as the village's landmark. Roy squinted against the glare, his thoughts drifting to his son in the distant capital.
At the same time, Ren was in a neutral city along the border, a famous transportation hub for the Empire and its neighbors. The streets were filled with an exotic flair—foreign fashions and unfamiliar delicacies that couldn't be found within the Empire's borders.
Ren walked through the crowds cloaked in a simple robe, making his way toward the magic ship terminal. He caught snippets of conversation as he passed. People were talking about the "Demon King Cultists" being nothing more than common bandits who had been wiped out in a single night. The Adventurer Guild was keeping the identity of the person who had finished the job a strict secret.
"Ah... snow," Ren murmured, reaching out a hand.
He pulled back his hood slightly, revealing his neutral, handsome features and dark brown hair. He smiled at the small snowflake on his palm, looking more like his gentle mother than a feared Sword Saint.
At the magic ship landing, a voice announced the departure for Erendir. Ren was searching for a check-in counter when he accidentally bumped into another passenger.
"I’m sorry! Are you all right?"
"I’m fine. It was my fault for not looking where I was going," a pleasant, boyish voice replied.
The woman was beautiful, with vibrant violet hair and glasses. She appeared to be about five years older than Ren. He helped her pick up several books she had dropped.
"Are they dirty?" he asked.
"No, they seem okay. Thank you for your kindness," she said with a bright smile. "I love books, you see. I heard there were some rare editions here."
"I like reading too," Ren said. "Though I just read whatever catches my interest."
"That’s a lovely way to put it. I travel the world looking for books. To me, books are the only Memory of the World that isn't influenced by the gods."
Ren blinked at the cryptic, philosophical remark. Seeing an open counter, he gestured for her to go ahead. She thanked him and checked in, then turned back to him one last time.
"Safe travels," she said.
"You too," Ren replied.
As the woman walked away, she glanced back at Ren’s retreating figure. "Still a boy, yet a Strong Sword User... how rare," she whispered before disappearing onto her ship.
A few days later, during the tail end of winter break, Fiona Ignat and Ren were walking through the quiet grounds of the Imperial Military Academy. Fluffy snow drifted down around them. Fiona wore a white coat over her uniform, her black hair swaying in the cold breeze.
"The snow has calmed down a bit," she said, looking up.
"It really was a blizzard while we were in the library," Ren agreed. "I’m glad it stopped. If the trains had been delayed, we might have been stuck."
Fiona chuckled. "If that happened, you would have probably just spent the night training at the Lion Holy Chancel."
"Hey, I’m not that much of a workaholic."
"Are you sure?" she teased with a playful look. "You were just saying you still had fatigue from the Wadatsumi battle."
Ren laughed and pulled a book from his bag—the collection of historical short stories Radius had recommended.
The two walked together toward the dorms, talking about the winter's events. While it hadn't been as chaotic as the Baldur Mountains, Ren’s promotion to Sword Saint had been a massive turning point. He recalled the second battle against the Wadatsumi, where Estelle Oslos Drake had watched him with a bored yawn, testing his newfound strength.
"This level of monster is no longer a match for you," she had told him afterward with a proud laugh.
Ren also thought about his medal, the Holy Grimdahl Sword Emblem. He had received it from Estelle in her office. While he was proud of it, the medal was so conspicuous that he didn't feel comfortable wearing it on his school uniform.
"I told Estelle-sama I wouldn't be wearing it much, and she looked so heartbroken," Ren said.
"I can easily imagine that," Fiona replied, her breath blooming white in the air.
After seeing Fiona back to her dormitory, Ren stopped by the Imperial headquarters of the Adventurer Guild. His new status as a Sword Saint gave him access to "Emblem" requests—high-stakes missions reserved for the elite. While there was nothing that immediately caught his eye, he knew these specialized tasks would eventually lead to the gear and experience he needed.
On his way back through the temple district, he ran into a familiar silver-haired woman—the Sword King, Lutreche.
"You've grown much stronger since the Great Clock Tower," she remarked as they passed each other.
"Why did you help me back then?" Ren asked, but she simply walked on.
"We will meet again," she said before vanishing into the snow.
Ren finally returned to the Erendir manor, where Licia Clausel was waiting for him.
"Welcome back, Ren," she said, her sapphire eyes sparkling.
They spent the evening training their Holy Magic in the great hall. Since the events with the Roses Kaitas, their magical synergy had become extraordinary. Licia noted that her magic was significantly more effective when cast on Ren than on anyone else.
"Maybe your magic stone just likes me," Ren joked.
Licia blushed, but she didn't deny it. Every time their hands parted after a training session, she felt a lingering reluctance, a silent wish that they could have stayed connected just a little longer.
The next morning, Ren prepared for an expedition. He took Io, his monster-blooded horse, and Kukuru, the spirit beast that had hatched from the Blue Pearl. They traveled to a deep canyon where the "blue wind" of divine mana blew.
Ren was frustrated with his Water Magic Sword. Despite its beautiful, jewel-like appearance, it was currently weak, producing only a pathetic spray of water. He had hoped the mana-rich canyon would spark a change, but the sword remained unresponsive.
"No luck, huh?" he sighed.
Kukuru chirped and bumped her head against his cheek in consolation. She then did something unexpected. With a flap of her wings, she exerted her own immense power, overwriting the magical blue wind and clearing a path that was usually impassable during winter.
They reached a cliff overlooking a breathtaking vista of vast forests and soaring mountains.
"Muedi, the legendary bard, once said that the wind returns to sleep here," Ren whispered.
He looked out toward the horizon, where the colored winds swirled toward a distant, hidden land.
"Windea... the place where water and wind sleep."
He exhaled a long, white breath, his eyes fixed on the legendary site where he knew his next challenge awaited.