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I, Lynoah Styler, have been active as an adventurer for three years now. At eighteen, I’m an S-rank adventurer based in the town of Rudro. …Today, I’ve come to the royal capital after a long while.
When you reach S-rank, you start getting requests on the level of national disasters.
The reason I was able to become this strong in the first place… it’s largely because, since childhood, I was trained by a certain girl—my childhood friend.
Aine Krosinte, one year older than me. Both her parents were adventurers; her father was often away on jobs, while her mother focused on housework.
I was frequently dragged into Aine’s sword practice. Her skill with a blade was terrifying—honestly, I wasn’t even close to her level.
At first, I was just tagging along, but gradually I came to admire her strength… and at the same time, I felt the urge to get back at her for all the teasing she dished out.
“You’re pathetic for a boy,” she’d say, or “Can you even protect a girl with arms like that?”—all sorts of jabs.
And yet here I am now: the youngest S-rank adventurer, even called the “Second-Gen Sword Saint” in the streets. …Though I’ve never met anyone actually called a Sword Saint, and I’m not particularly chasing that title myself.
The one I’ve always wanted to beat is that childhood friend of mine—Aine.
She didn’t follow her parents into adventuring. Instead, she left for a distant country.
I heard the story when I returned to the village once: she had become a knight in the Labeila Empire. It’s not a large nation, but she was apparently valued highly there.
Our kingdom and the empire are different lands. Maybe she had her reasons for choosing that path. Aine wasn’t born in the empire, but over there, as long as you prove your ability, even foreigners can become knights.
So if we ever meet again… I want to cross blades with her one more time.
She might have heard rumors about me as an adventurer, too.
Walking through the capital, I glanced toward the empire’s direction. …Maybe I’ll head there once this job is done.
That’s what I was thinking when a carriage came rattling by with a loud clatter.
The back was caged with iron bars, and inside were girls chained together.
Slaves—criminals from some country, or people sold off for lack of money. They’re bought for all sorts of uses: as servants, as combat pawns for adventurers… or, I’ve heard, as noble playthings and sex slaves.
If any crime is involved, that’s my cue as an adventurer—but slave trading, shady as it is, is legally recognized by the state.
The merchant, dripping with gaudy jewels, sat up front with the driver.
They were probably headed to the upcoming slave market. …I intended to pass by without looking—but then I spotted a certain girl and froze.
“…Huh?”
Among the captives, the one bound most heavily: a blonde girl. Even as a slave, she was kept presentable—long, beautiful hair, pale skin marred only by wounds. Anyone could tell she had once been an adventurer or knight.
And I knew exactly who she was.
“Aine…?”
I called her name. Aine must have noticed me too; she jerked her head up, face flushing crimson from the downcast, frustrated expression she’d worn moments before.
“ Lynoah…!? D-don’t… don’t look…!”
“Quiet down back there!”
CLANG!
The merchant slammed a rod against the iron bars. The girls flinched; Aine’s face twisted in fear.
—Almost on reflex, my body moved.
“Stop it.”
“Eek…!”
I leapt onto the carriage, drew the sword at my hip, and pressed the blade to the slave merchant’s throat. The man threw his hands up, eyes wide.
Aine, cheeks still flushed and glistening with unshed tears, turned her face away in shame.
I had no idea what was going on, but clearly there was no time to celebrate our reunion.
“U-uh… sir? H-heh, l-let’s all calm down first, yeah?”
“…Got a little heated.”
I apologized and lowered the sword. In this situation, I was the one in the wrong.
Probably looked like some hot-blooded young guy losing it over how slaves were treated. The merchant flashed a greasy grin.
“Heh, no hard feelings over something this small. Young fellas like you sometimes got prejudices against slaves, see—”
“No, nothing like that. You’re operating openly in town because you follow proper procedures, right?”
“If you understand, could you step off the carriage? Gotta get to the slave market—”
“How much?”
“…Huh?”
The merchant tilted his head. Aine was the one who gasped, instantly grasping what I meant.
Before she could speak, I addressed the merchant again. I pulled out the pouch of gold coins I’d just earned from my last job and pressed it into his hand.
“Her—Aine. How much? No need to take her to market. I’ll pay whatever’s required. I’m buying her.”
I declared it loud and clear.
—A slave. Something I never thought I’d buy in my life. And the first one I ever purchased was the girl I grew up with in the same village, my childhood friend.