Chapter 3

Just before Faido and Erika visited the town of Leonardo,

"Uuuu..."

"That old man is drunk again."

"Yeah. I hear he's been like that since before my dad was born."

In a back alley, a man with an empty wine bottle in his hand, lying on the ground, was being whispered about by the men who glanced at him.

In fact, this old man, Sasaki, was a kind of local landmark in Leonardo. Many of the town's residents had seen him lying on the ground with a bottle of alcohol in his hand since before they were born.

Since the residents of Leonardo were good at handling alcohol and rarely lost their way, it was quite rare to see someone so careless with alcohol and without a home.

"Where does he get the money for alcohol?"

"True, isn't it?"

There was one point, however, that remained a long-standing mystery: how the homeless Sasaki managed to get the money for alcohol, which left the residents puzzled.

"Well, let's go."

"Yeah, sure."

The men who glanced at Sasaki left the scene.

A homeless man who was so careless with alcohol might be killed by ruffians in some places. But fortunately, Sasaki lying on the ground with a bottle of alcohol was a part of the daily scenery for the townspeople, and they hardly paid attention to him.

However, there were exceptions.

"Ugh, you stink of alcohol!?"

A red-haired boy, about twelve years old, with a wooden sword at his waist, frowned and glared at Sasaki.

"Ah, that voice, is it Karl?"

The sleepy Sasaki, lifting his eyelids with a lazy effort, his black eyes reflecting the light.

"I've been wondering, which is more important to you, the sword or the alcohol?"

"Ah, of course it's the alcohol."

"But you have a sword at your waist, so you're a swordsman, right!?"

"Once you get to my level, even a branch will do. Uuuu."

Karl, who was one of the few people who talked to Sasaki, was a boy with a common sense, and the combination of him and a homeless man who couldn't give up alcohol was quite unbalanced.

"If a branch will do, wouldn't you be better off selling that sword and living a decent life? Is it a fake?"

"Hahaha! No one would buy a cursed blade that flies off to the neck of an owner they don't like!"

"Is it a magic sword!?"

"Geheh. Remember, boy. This is a katana, a weapon from the East. So it's not a magic sword but a demon blade."

"It's still dangerous, isn't it!?"

"Not bad, not bad."

"Are you making fun of me!?"

"Hahaha!"

Karl, seeing the unusual weapon, a katana, at Sasaki's waist, suggested that he could live a better life if he sold it. However, Karl didn't believe the danger Sasaki mentioned, as the end of those who possessed such cursed weapons was always madness and death, which didn't match the image of a homeless man lying on the ground with a bottle of alcohol.

"Why do you have something like that anyway?"

"It's a memento from a strong enemy or a rival, someone you'd call a friend. I said alcohol is important, but no matter what, I can't give this up. No, alcohol is the most important."

"You were starting to tell a good story, but don't add alcohol, old man!"

"Let me tell you, I'm not running away from life into alcohol. I've always loved alcohol since I was young."

"I don't care, it's too much!"

Even so, the kind-hearted Karl tried to listen to Sasaki's story, but his blood pressure rose because Sasaki wouldn't leave alcohol.

"Enough about alcohol, at least look at my sword! Huh! Huh!"

"Amazing."

"Look properly, damn old man!"

Karl, judging that it was pointless, concentrated on his wooden sword and repeatedly swung it down and up.

Sasaki's reaction was brief and indifferent, and Karl's blood pressure rose even more.

Actually, this boy, for some reason, approached the local landmark, Sasaki, and said, "If you're free, why don't you teach me some sword skills?"

"Wait a minute. Why did you know I wasn't looking at your sword when you were focused on it?"

"Well, I just... kind of felt it?"

"At your age, if you can swing a sword and still be aware of your surroundings, that's more than enough."

"Is it, really?"

"Sure is."

Sasaki, who was struggling to drink the last of the alcohol in the bottle, said something that Karl thought might be a compliment, but he felt he was being tricked.

"Why don't you tell me again why you want to swing a sword properly?"

"What, again?"

"Just tell me."

"Alright, I want to be a reliable big brother because I have a younger brother and sister. Is that good enough? I've said it many times already."

"Don't forget that goal."

"Of course. To achieve that, I have to join the Clovis school!"

"Good luck with that."

Karl, who had been made to say the purpose of swinging a sword every time he met Sasaki, said it again, remembering the faces of his younger brother and sister.

He was determined to knock on the door of the Clovis school, one of the most famous swordsmanship schools in the world and a prestigious school in the town.

"By the way, it seems you haven't neglected your basics and running."

"If I slack off, I won't get stronger, right?"

"Hmm. If all the young people were as obedient as you, it would be a different story."

"Are you... praising me?"

"Is that how you see it?"

"This old man!"

"Ha ha ha!"

Sasaki, who judged that Karl had not neglected the running and practice he had assigned him, said it with a sarcastic tone.

"Anyway, I'll spend a little more time with you today."

"Really!? Then teach me a special move!"

"Don't be ridiculous. When you swing a sword, every move is a special move."

"Ah, I see!"

The noisy and strange teacher-student voices echoed in the back alley for a while.

◆

"See you, old man! Die soon!"

"You might die without alcohol."

"Shut up!"

After a while, Karl left the scene, still noisy.

"Well, well, you were called amazing, weren't you?"

As soon as Karl left, an old man in his sixties came out from the shadows of the back alley. However, despite being in his sixties, he was muscular and had a sword at his waist, giving him the appearance of a seasoned warrior.

"You were better than me when I was a kid."

"Hehe. That's a harsh premise."

The impressive old man approached Sasaki, who had finished his drink, with a wry smile.

"Your future looks bright. If you act like a random person, it might be interesting to bring him to the dojo."

"Me?"

"If I had another twenty years, I would, but ten years is not enough."

"I see. By the way, the other disciples might complain."

"It's fine. I said your place is good. Well, the basics are Sasaki's style."

"I see. Then I'll take the last disciple."

"Alright."

"By the way, on a different note, it seems someone is looking for medicine... They might come to the town soon. His name is Michael, and he is a user of a special assassination sword."

"Huh? Medicine now? It's been about twenty years, hasn't it?"

"Probably."

"Good luck. I understand that it might be hidden somewhere, but I can't say for sure. The alchemists back then were thorough in erasing records, and no actual items have appeared since then."

"Exactly. Be careful, just in case."

"Sure. Ah, right. Here."

"Then I'll take my leave, Master."

"Keh. You didn't finish saying it, did you?"

The strange meeting was unknown to anyone.

◆

◆

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"Old man, listen to me!"

"Shut up!"

One day, Sasaki, who was lying in the back alley as usual, jumped up at the sound of Karl's call, his face changed.

"Yesterday, someone from the Clovis school invited me to visit the dojo!"

"That's great. I was running out of things to teach you, so it's a relief."

"Really?"

Karl, who was excited about being able to visit the dojo of one of the most famous schools, was about to be moved by the thought that Sasaki had taught him everything, even if it was just the basics.

"I was wrong. I was just tired of teaching, so it's a relief."

"Give me back my little moment of emotion!"

"Still, it's great, isn't it?"

"Y-Yeah!"

"Have you already visited the dojo?"

"I did! And they said if it went well, I could join, so I'll go again tomorrow and join!"

"Then good luck. There are a lot of people there, so don't get lost. Oh, and try to work well with others."

"Got it!"

Karl nodded, encouraged by Sasaki, who was congratulating him in a roundabout way.

The Clovis school, being famous, had many applicants, and the doors were open. However, to reach the top, considerable effort was needed, as only a few were at the top.

"Well, anyway, you know, when I was doing practice swings at the dojo, they said I had good form. Thanks."

"Hmm. Well, I'll give you the license to teach the basics."

"I've never heard of a license to teach the basics, but thanks! See you!"

"Sure."

Karl, embarrassed by the strange teacher, left with a parting shot.

◆

The night in Leonardo was lively with bars scattered everywhere, as befitting a town known for its alcohol.

However, even in a lively town, there were negative rumors.

A rumor that a strengthening drug, which was used temporarily during the great war and then erased, still existed and that an improved version was hidden somewhere.

It was just a rumor, but the problem was that such rumors never disappeared, and people tended to become more suspicious if someone denied them.

And those who sought strength sometimes strayed from the path and sought forbidden methods.

(If the drug exists, it would be in the lord's castle, right?)

The lean man, who had sneaked into the town under the cover of darkness, was one of those who had strayed from the path.

A man who sought strength with all his might was undoubtedly a strong person, and if he wielded a sword, even ten ordinary soldiers would be no match for him.

However, because of this, he could not bear the limits of his strength and sought the drug rumored to exist in Leonardo to break through them.

(The Clovis people need to be careful.)

One of the reasons the man believed the drug existed in Leonardo was the presence of a major dojo of the Clovis school. However, this was the reverse; the Clovis school was not protecting the drug and Leonardo, but rather, the town was protected by the Clovis school because of the existence of people like this man.

(I don't expect to be outdone by the high disciples. But if the top people or Clovis himself are there...)

The man, who was aware of his own limits, could objectively evaluate his strength.

The top people of the Clovis school were all monsters, and Clovis himself was one of the peaks in the world of martial arts, known to all.

This was proven by the remains of a dragon, which he had supposedly defeated, and no man could stand against him.

(A homeless man. It fits the town of alcohol, I guess.)

As the man entered a back alley, there was an old homeless man lying on the ground with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. To the man, he was just a nobody, and he intended to ignore him and pass by.

"Tomorrow is, well, my disciple's departure. I don't want any trouble."

The man ignored the homeless man's muttering.

"You've killed twenty people without a duel, haven't you?"

This could not be ignored, and the man's footsteps changed for a moment. The man had indeed killed innocent people in his pursuit of strength.

But he tried to ignore it and leave the scene quickly.

"I heard someone is looking for the drug. His name is, yes, Michael."

By a complete coincidence, the man, Michael, whose purpose and name were accurately guessed, could not run away.

He unsheathed his dark magic sword and tried to cut the homeless man in one stroke.

It was unsuccessful.

"Did you draw your sword?"

Michael's consciousness was invaded by the homeless man, Sasaki, who stood up in an instant despite his swaying.

Drawing the sword.

Red light.

Sheathing the sword.

Drinking from the bottle.

Silence.

The moment Michael unsheathed his sword, it was over in the blink of an eye.

The homeless man Sasaki, also known as the divine-speed sword saint Sasaki.

The brilliance of his sword.

Still undiminished.

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