He had just been scratched twice.
Once, when Baltar had called him weak.
And again, when he claid that being strong was all that mattered.
Provocation. Arrogance.
It would have been stranger if he didn’t get angry.
But since his opponent was an Aura User, he couldn’t exactly argue against it.
‘Having no power is a cri in itself...’
Because it was nothing but the truth.
...However, the next words that followed made him forget his irritation entirely.
"Do you want to beco a Superhuman?"
If anyone else had asked that, Ihan would have laughed in their face, called them a fraud, and walked away.
But this was Baltar.
A living Superhuman.
There were barely five of them on the entire continent.
When soone like that asked the question, no one could simply dismiss it.
And so—
"......."
Ihan thought.
‘Hah. Look at this brat.’
Baltar was impressed.
If he asked a thousand knights the sa question, every single one of them would instantly respond with—
"I want it!"
They would jump at the opportunity.
But this kid was hesitating.
To others, it might look like arrogance—like he didn’t even know his place.
Like he was spoiled enough to consider his answer.
But Baltar knew.
There was no one hungrier for strength than Ihan.
And no one who understood himself better.
So it wasn’t hard for Baltar to guess why he was hesitating.
And sure enough—
"...So you’re not asking if I can beco one. You’re asking if I want to."
"Haha. Exactly. You understand the nuance well."
This brat—he wasn’t as simple as he looked.
He actually thought before he spoke.
***
"Feels like you’re ssing with ..."
Baltar had asked if he wanted to beco a Superhuman.
But the question wasn’t:
"You can beco one."
It was closer to:
"Do you want to try?"
In other words, it was wordplay.
"This isn’t wordplay. I saw potential in you today. And I’m offering to show you the thod."
"......."
"You have a chance. A real one. If I had to put a number on it..."
Swish.
Baltar raised a single finger.
"—About 1%."
A 1% chance to survive.
Shudder.
A deep chill ran down Ihan’s spine.
It felt as though he were peering into an abyss he should never approach.
Before he even realized it, he had taken a step back.
Baltar, still smiling, didn’t acknowledge Ihan’s pale face and continued.
"Half a year ago, your odds of surviving the process were zero. Not even 0.01%—just nothing. But now, things are different. You’ve learned to wield Conviction, and that ans you’ve t one of the minimum requirents to beco an Aura User."
"......."
"1%. To most people, that number ans nothing. But do you realize how huge it is? It ans you actually have a chance. That is sothing worth celebrating, haha!"
"...I never knew 1% could be so amazing."
"Of course it is!"
"......."
Ihan hadn’t ant it as a complint, but Baltar nodded enthusiastically, taking it as one anyway.
And in that mont—
Ihan understood.
‘There’s a reason why there are so few Superhumans.’
He still didn’t know how to reach that level.
But from Baltar’s words alone, he could tell.
...You had to risk your life to step onto that path.
That was why so few had ever succeeded.
‘...This crazy old man. If I had said yes, he definitely would have put my life on the line imdiately.’
The saying went, A single word can clear a debt of a thousand coins.
In Ihan’s case, a single mont of hesitation had just saved his life.
Hoo...
‘Yeah, sotis it really pays to think before you speak.’
Ihan let out a quiet breath of relief.
And just then—
Drip...
As if to congratulate him for narrowly avoiding death, the rain finally began to clear, and sunlight peeked through the clouds.
Most of the fires had already been extinguished, and he could feel people slowly approaching.
For now, they were keeping their distance—probably because Baltar was here.
And also because he was here.
...They clearly saw him as a walking disaster zone.
Which, to be fair—
‘They’re not wrong.’
If he were in their position, he wouldn’t want to approach the guy who had just flattened a fortress wall, either.
It was understandable.
So—
"I’ll get going first. No need to make people any more uncomfortable."
"How considerate of you."
"It’s not consideration. It’s awareness. You should learn so of that, old man."
"...Still as disrespectful as ever."
The two continued bickering until Ihan finally turned to leave.
But then—
"Hmph. Are you sure you don’t want to try? If you can overco that 1% chance, you will beco an Aura User."
Freeze.
"...Wasn’t that conversation already over?"
"You were the one who ended it. My offer is still on the table."
"......."
This ti, Ihan knew.
Baltar wasn’t mocking him.
He genuinely wanted Ihan to try.
"Every power cos with a price. And the price of becoming a Superhuman? Instead of effort, you bet your life. It’s a fair trade, don’t you think?"
"Hah! What a bullshit deal."
Honestly—
He was tempted.
It was power.
It ant he would never have to feel defeated again.
It ant he could beco stronger.
The temptation gnawed at him.
It whispered in his ear.
‘Cross the line.’
Hadn’t he already been prepared for this?
And yet—
"...No. At least, not right now."
"Hm?"
"Actually, I did have sothing I wanted to ask you today. But it felt too pathetic, so I wasn’t going to."
"What is it?"
Baltar didn’t mind.
Even if it was a pathetic question, he was willing to listen.
And so—
"You’re strong. Really strong. So why don’t you do anything when the kingdom is in danger?"
"......."
For the first ti, Baltar was at a loss for words.
And yet, Ihan didn’t stop talking.
"See? It’s a pathetic question. Like I’m just whining, asking why you won’t help."
"...No. It’s a reasonable question."
Baltar denied it outright.
It was a question anyone would ask.
"Hmm. Let ask you sothing. Why do you think I don’t step in?"
"Turning it around on ?"
"Just answer."
"...Well, there are a few possibilities."
Ihan began listing them.
Maybe Baltar simply didn’t see the current crisis as a real crisis.
Maybe, to soone who could crush everything with raw power, this situation wasn’t even worth his attention.
But Ihan knew Baltar.
For all his laziness, he wasn’t the type to ignore his responsibilities.
And yet, Ihan had rarely seen him intervene.
"The only real ti you stepped in was to kill the Demon King."
That had been different.
That had been true devastation.
"But then there’s Britannia."
If Baltar had wanted, the Southern Unification War would have never lasted as long as it did.
He could have ended it.
But he didn’t.
And that—
"That doesn’t add up."
Baltar stared at Ihan.
And for the first ti—
There was a trace of bitterness in his surprise.
***
Step. Step.
"......."
Unlike when he first arrived at the palace, Ihan walked back with an easy, unhurried pace.
Normally, he would have been running as a warm-up rather than strolling like this.
But right now, he wasn’t in the mood.
...No, to be more precise, his mind was cluttered.
‘Feels like I know too much now.’
Still, he had gotten what he ca for.
The weight in his chest had eased considerably.
And he had learned what he wanted to know.
Additionally—
"Go visit that place. I can’t lead you to the path of a Superhuman, but you’ll gain sothing from it."
He had received an unexpected reward.
Click...
A worthless-looking dagger.
It was so rusted that it seed like it would crumble into dust if he tried to draw it too forcefully.
And yet, Ihan held onto the rusted blade carefully.
It felt like he had just obtained a second advancent quest ticket, as Taechang would put it.
It was undeniably good news. Sothing he should be happy about.
And yet—
"Haaaah..."
Rather than joy, he felt a twinge of hesitation.
Was he really on the right path?
‘Or maybe I’m just overthinking this?’
It was like worrying about how to spend lottery winnings before even buying a ticket.
Pathetic.
"I really am an idiot."
"Hmm, I don’t think you’re an idiot at all, Sir Knight."
"Any guy who worries about sothing that hasn’t even happened yet is a fool."
"Hmm, are you worrying for yourself? Or is it for soone else?"
"? I’ll manage sohow, so it’s not really about ... but there are a lot of people I can’t help but think about. Right, so— ...huh?"
Ihan turned his head.
A mont ago, no one had been beside him.
But now, standing there with a bright, cheerful smile, was a maid with braided hair—Leira Winter.
"...Maid Winter?"
"Yeeees~!"
"Uh... since when were you here?"
"Since you sighed! I even spoke to you, rember? Hehe."
"R-right..."
What the hell...?
The fact that she had naturally appeared beside him was one thing.
But the fact that he hadn’t even noticed her presence until she spoke?
That was downright eerie.
Yet, she didn’t seem to care about his confusion in the slightest.
"Hehe, I really like how kind you are, Sir Knight!"
"......."
"You could live purely for yourself, but instead, you keep trying to live as a good person. My parents always said that soone who cares about others is a truly great person."
"...Is that so?"
"Yes! So, Sir Knight, even if you live like a fool, even if others call you naive, I’ll always be on your side. Because I like those clumsy, human parts of you!"
"......."
"Eh? Why’s your face getting so red? Are you sick?"
"......It’s your fault."
"Hm?"
...Very few people could declare they liked soone with such a casual, matter-of-fact expression.
Her words had completely shattered the useless thoughts clouding his mind.
"Hehe."
A gentle scent of soap drifted in the wind as she moved closer and took his hand.
As if to not let him have ti for negative thoughts.
"......."
Ihan wanted to say so many things.
Why was she here? Had she heard his conversation with Baltar?
He wouldn’t be surprised if she had.
And he wanted to hear her thoughts.
But instead—
"...Have you eaten yet?"
"Nope!"
The words that left his lips had nothing to do with his worries.
"Then let’s go out for a al. Anything in particular you want to eat?"
"Hmm... Whole roasted pork?"
"...That’s very specific."
At this mont, being with her was more comforting than anything else.
And so—
Grip.
Ihan gently tightened his hold on her hand.
This was enough.
Instead, he made a silent promise.
No matter what happened, he wouldn’t let go of this warm hand.
A small but imnse determination.
Whoooosh.
A breeze blew past.
Cool, but not cold.
It was simply refreshing.
...It was autumn.
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