“So you really went and did it…I knew you were crazy.”

  Adra let out an exasperated sigh as she retrieved another healing talisman from her bag. It was a small magical item comparable to a first-aid kit, unfit for blunt trauma of this degree. It partially repaired most of Ereth’s teeth, cheek bones, and orbital bones, though it was by no means a complete treatment. The swelling reduced and the bleeding halted. At the very least, he was stable.

  “Do you think someone aspiring to be the greatest adventurer couldn’t handle something like this? You really do think lowly of me, Adra?!”

  “It’s not a matter of high and low, it's about reasonable and unreasonable!”

  “When has that ever stopped the great heroes of legend? The whole point is that they achieved what everyone else deemed impossible! You really lack imagination.”

  “Excuse me?”

  The duo continued to endlessly bicker amongst themselves while Abraxas stood with his head cocked to the side, confused and a bit awkward.

  “...Do any of you plan on doing anything aside from arguing? This is a waste of time…”

  “Stay out of this, omega creep!” Adra retaliated with her usual fervor.

  “Omega creep…?”

  The insult didn’t really offend him — he was more so baffled by how one person could be so bold and straightforward with their feelings than anything. It was almost admirable in a way, if she weren’t so explicitly rude.

  “But I’ll admit that you’re right, super creepy guy.”

  “Our leader just asked for my name, and you insist on calling me cree-”

  “Arguing won’t solve anything!” Adra declared while totally interrupting Abraxas’s question. “Now that the Ne’fari are dealt with, it’s time that we collect the Drezha stones and get the hell out of here.”

  “You…are a difficult person.” Abraxas couldn’t help but whisper under his breath.

  Adra put down her comically-large adventurer bag, pulling out two pickaxes. “Sorry to say, creepy guy, but Ereth here still has his end of the bargain to fulfill. Since you’re a part of the crew now, I can expect you to pick up some of the work, yes?”

  “I do not mind. I am best at such things.”

  She flashed a bright smile despite her plethora of insults. “Great! You’re coming too, Ereth!”

  “E-Eh? Can’t you see I’m clearly injured?”

  “A scratch like that shouldn’t stop you from working, so get to mining before the deal is off!”

  “...Yes ma’am.” He hung his head with a painful expression.

  ———

  Some time had passed as the trio made their way to the ruins of the Ne’fari den. Ereth and Abraxas were on mining duty, while Adra enacted a barrier around the den, ensuring that the mine would not collapse under pressure. After around an hour, most of the Drezha had been extracted.

  “Fifty…sixty…eighty…a hundred! We’re got around a hundred pounds of Drezha!” Adra said with an excited expression filled with childlike glee.

  Ereth cocked his head in confusion, “Is that a lot? We’ve been mining for a while, so I thought we’d get way more.”

  “Drezha is a rare material and doesn’t come in large quantities per deposit. It’s one of the reasons why it’s so damn expensive on this part of the galaxy. Of course, other planets may have differing rates, but we can make quite the buck with this much!”

  Abraxas interjected, “Do you plan on selling the material raw or processed? It will be quite costly to find a gemcutter willing to deal with Drezha, and I doubt any of us have connections to big names in the gem industry.”

  “You’re quite intelligent, unlike a certain leader we have,” Adra said with a sly tone. “When finding a gemcutter, it’s important to factor in the costs of middle-men and beneficiaries who help in polishing the gems themselves. We’ll also have to pay for verification and a shit ton of bureaucratic nonsense before sale becomes possible. After all, people don’t work for free. Fifty pounds of Drezha can quickly dwindle down to five if you aren’t careful about who you hire and where.”

  “...Is that why you chose this planet?”

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  “Perhaps. I heard from a friend of a friend of some opportunities here that big corpos haven’t picked up on yet. The people of Saranhell neither have the manpower nor the resources to expand and capitalize on their natural land. The only reason larger civilizations haven’t invaded is because they see the planet as a literal trash heap, unworthy of their attention.”

  “Scum…” Abraxas gripped his blade with a familiar fury. “Sacrificing the lives of the weak simply because they are inconvenient…such scum deserve nothing more but death.”

  “Normally I’d agree, but it's not like we actually have the power to do anything about it. As unfortunately as it may seem, the world is ruled by a game of luck and divine providence. Power alone won’t be enough to break that cycle.”

  “Perhaps…I understand that my methods are certainly flawed. Diplomacy is the key to a functioning society. The wheels must turn and hands must be shaken. That is the way of the world. However, I cannot blend into such a society. I am a sword and nothing more. That is the fate that I have inherited, and I refuse to change myself. If I cannot become the hero of everyone, then I shall become an angel born in hell.”

  “An angel born in hell, huh…you speak in a fantastical manner, just like our leader. I can see why he chose you. However, you’ll need someone to temper that blade of yours, and I intend to carry out that purpose.”

  Adra gave the black knight a determined, piercing gaze. It wasn’t quite malicious, but it certainly wasn’t a nice and forgiving look. Perhaps it was something similar to acceptance, having understood her role as a ‘moderator’ amongst two extremes — Ereth of the Promised Victory and Abraxas, the Black Knight.

  “Very well. I have no issue with such an arrangement. What about you, leader? What ideal path do you follow?”

  “Me…?” Ereth said with a bit of surprise, his mind rushing towards the most comfortable answer. “I…I don’t know.”

  “Hm…?” Abraxas shot a terrible glare at the boy, threatening to slice him in two.

  “I don’t know. That’s the earnest truth. Even if I were the strongest on the planet, that wouldn’t change anything about their lived reality. People will continue to starve and suffer, and I alone can’t change that.”

  It was an utterly tragic, yet predictable reality. Not every planet held equal opportunity for its citizens, and Eshtal was one such unfortunate planet. The people were born amongst sand and lived amongst sand, striving to achieve their own happiness despite their ill-fortune. Those born on wealthier, more prosperous planets profited from the hard work of the lower class.

  Fortune and circumstance were the essence of inequality, and that was something that a mere warrior could not overcome.

  If that were the case, then what, or rather, who could save those tragic souls? How could they be freed from the torment of circumstance and fate? Though many would attempt to find the truth, none have reached the desired conclusion emanating from deep within their hearts.

  Ereth was no exception to this law. Though he longed to become the Immortal Sword Saint indeed, the path before him was mired in obnubilating mist. Where should he go? What should he pursue? What did he need? All such questions remained unclear. However, there was a singular truth within his heart, a truth that must never be lost.

  “And yet…despite my weakness, I earnestly want to save them all. I refuse to let even a single one slip out of my hands. That is why I need you both. Where I am weak, Abraxas will remain strong. Where I am foolish, Adra’s wisdom will guide me. So please, accept me as your leader!”

  He bowed before both Abraxas and Adra in a display of complete submission, a position rather unbefitting of a leader. And yet, it was a genuine prayer that bloomed from the boy’s desire, a wish to wipe away everyone’s tears without bias or distinction. As long as that one prayer remained within his heart, he would continue to fight. If nothing else existed within him, if nothing else could propel him forward, then this prayer alone would guide him.

  “H-Hey! Get up, would ya?!” Adra said with a face flushed red with embarrassment. “Seriously, I ain’t all that great. I just figured I’d help a little, that’s all…”

  “Hm, while I do not particularly enjoy the sight of my leader bowing before me, I must dutifully accept your grace as a member of your fleet. Command me, leader, and our wills shall come to fruition.”

  Ereth raised his head, smiling with a grin of relief.

  “I really do have some reliable comrades.”

  The thread had now been tied, connecting the trio by fate. With this connection now set in stone, they set forth to their next destination, the capital city of Eshtal — Yvcalr