"One day, you'll understand why we die for you. But for now, you must run!"

'Leader...'

With his first mercenary troop leader's last words echoing in his head and rousing him from his meditative state, Rolf opened his eyes.

'It's the voices again...'

It was common fare for him to hear the voices of his fallen comrades, but this one was particularly loud. Even stranger than that, it wasn't accompanied by visions of their bloody corpses.

Shaking his head free of his thoughts, Rolf took a few deep breaths as he surveyed his surroundings. As the blazing heat of noon blessed the world with the Sun's love, his shoulder-length grey hair fluttered as he sat cross-legged in the air above the barren mountain that towered over Aizen's only city.

'Oh wait... that's not right. It's not the only city anymore...'

After all, the surrounding cities had recently fallen under Reivan's control.

Thinking of how busy his last living friend was, Rolf couldn't help but chuckle.

'With this many cities... I suppose the next step is to establish a nation...'

In that case, the lofty mountain he liked to loiter in whenever he wanted to be alone did not overlook Aizen's first city, but the country's future capital instead. Of course, this was assuming Reivan didn't establish some other city as the capital. After all, Rolf had heard of some rulers who constantly moved their capitals depending on all sorts of factors — factors that Rolf's muscle-brained self didn't fully understand.

"Haaa..." Rolf heaved a weary sigh as he slowly descended until he was seated on the mountain peak. Rolf's butt was firmly planted near the edge of the peak's cliff. He loved spending hours just sitting here, thinking of the future, remembering the past, and even doing nothing as the chilly wind brushed past his face.

Now, however, he was here to escape a very uncomfortable situation occurring within the city of Aizen.

Sitting cross-legged, Rolf closed his eyes and thought back to recent events. Because of the nearby cities' threatening actions, Reivan was forced to blow the trumpets of war. Using his brilliant and innovative tactics, the forces under his control inflicted massive casualties on the enemy while minimizing losses to their own army. And with the help of Rolf's Ascendant might, the enemy Ascendants were held off long enough for Reivan to finish off the enemy's leaders.

'I really thought I was a goner there...'

Ascendants like him were rare, but there were a few of them here and there. In this particular battle, Rolf had been forced to face off against three of them all on his own. Luckily, they did not seem very motivated to defend their lords — most likely because they had family members held hostage by them. Still, they had to keep up appearances if they wanted to avoid suspicion.

They had "kept up appearances" so well, Rolf had almost gotten killed because of it.

It was all well and good now, though. With the tyrants that grasped their weaknesses gone, the three Ascendents were finally free to do whatever they wanted and serve the lords they wished to serve. Judging from the way Aizen city and its citizens flourished, they had apparently decided that throwing their lot in with Reivan was the best choice.

After saying some sort of anecdote that completely flew past Rolf's head, Reivan had accepted the three with open arms, thereby increasing the number of Ascendants under his command to four — although Reivan would argue that Rolf was not in his command, so the number was actually three.

Rolf thought otherwise, though. As a friend of almost two decades, he would naturally fight for Reivan's goals, letting the smarter man do all the thinking for him.

'If only I could become a Transcendent... then I wouldn't have had any trouble with those three...'

Rolf couldn't help but chuckle at the thought though. A talentless imbecile like him would never reach such a legendary realm. There was a reason why there weren't any Transcendents in the world at the moment — it was a realm reserved for the best of the best.

And he was anything but that.

The only reason he was still alive was due to the sacrifices of his friends and comrades. He hadn't lived for almost a thousand years because he was strong. Stronger people had just sacrificed themselves so he could spend another day in this wretched existence. Then one day, he just luckily stumbled into becoming an Ascendent because he'd found some strange fruit growing out of an even stranger tree.

He hadn't reached his current power due to his own actions. It was all because of luck and having good people around him. But if the Transcendent realm was a realm you could just bumble upon, there wouldn't have been only be a handful of them throughout history.

To him, the Transcendent realm may as well have been a whore's virginity — he'd never be able to obtain it.

'If that guy who ran around and called himself the Sun God and the northern continent's Dragon Origin hadn't killed each other, maybe I could've asked them for some advice on how to advance...'

The sudden silly thought made him shake his head and sigh. Even if those two were alive, why would they help a nobody like him? Obviously, they would never do something so senseless.

With only his foolish musings and melancholic thoughts of comrades he wished to meet again — but likely never would — Rolf continued sitting in place. Countless drifting clouds had passed by and hid the Sun behind them, before floating away somewhere else. Eventually, the afternoon ended to give way to twilight as the stars began to show themselves.

"Hm...?" Suddenly, Rolf opened his eyes and smiled.

With his Ascendant senses, he perceived a familiar presence making its way up the mountain.

The presence had begun its ascent with vigor at first, making good progress in very little time. But as they got higher, they slowly lost momentum, ultimately traveling at a speed that was not unlike a snail's pace.

Even the greatest of stones can be weathered down by time. In the same way, the familiar presence finally made it to Rolf's location at midnight.

"My friend... haaa... why must you...haaa... make it so incredibly difficult... haaa... to reach you?"

Rolf did not need to turn around to know who delivered the resentful words through incessant panting.

"You could've just asked one of your new subordinates to fly you up here, no?"

Wearing a simple white tunic and a brown pair of pants, a black-haired man in his thirties grabbed his side while trying to steady his breathing. It took a while, but he managed to do so eventually.

"Well, I know how you don't like it when other people come up here." Reivan grinned as his dark-brown skin glistened with sweat. "That's why I made the trip alone. Where's my thank you?"

Rolf shook his head and chuckled. "Couldn't you have just had them fly you partway...?"

"Oh..." The exhausted man's eyes widened in realization before he guffawed at his own stupidity. "I didn't think of that!"

"I can see that."

"In my defense, I'm not used to having Ascendant subordinates. This is my first day of having one!"

"That's true..."

"Another failure, another lesson learned." Reivan shrugged as he blundered over and roughly sat down right next to Rolf. "I'll make sure to keep the option in mind for next time."

Rolf couldn't help but smile softly at his friend's nonchalance. It was a part of him that Rolf had always found to be admirable.

Rather than be bothered by mistakes, the man would use them to his advantage in some way instead. It was as if nothing could possibly bother him. The madman could probably see the bright side of any situation, no matter how tragic or hopeless it could possibly be.

'It would be great if I had such a quality as well.'

Rolf shook his head at the thought. There was nothing more useless than being envious of such things unless one used it as a driving force toward improvement. But Rolf knew he could never see the things that Reivan could see, no matter how hard he tried.

Apparently having calmed his breathing, Reivan heaved a sigh as he lightly nudged Rolf with his shoulder. "What's the guest of honor doing all the way out here? Why aren't you celebrating with us? We've finally done it! Peace is finally in our hands, no matter how brief it may last. And you're a pivotal character for this joyous event..."

Scratching the tip of his nose while smiling wryly, Rolf averted his gaze.

Reivan continued. "Hekarias — that mercenary that recently joined us for free, if you can still remember him — has gotten dead drunk and is making a huge fuss about becoming a noble in the country I'm going to establish... but I plan to centralize power so I've been having trouble turning him down. It would've been great if you were there to offer a dry comment or two."

"That fool..." Rolf couldn't help but sigh. Naturally, he remembered the mercenary. Even though he was still in the mortal realm, Hekarias fought with great efficiency and might, dominating the battle on the ground while Rolf held off the enemies in the air. The man was also quite honorable despite his rough origins, polite, and a generally likable guy.

There was just one problem.

"Let's say that I made an exception, and let him be the only noble in my country." Reivan massaged his temple and grimaced, seemingly feeling a headache coming. "What reputation would my country have if the only noble is such an insufferable womanizer? Don't get me wrong, the man is a beast in battle, so tying him down would be greatly beneficial for any nation... But even if I trust the man with my life, I'd never trust him with my wife! I'd rather he stay far away from anyone with tits."

'That's true...'

Hekarias the mercenary was a menace to the entire female population of the continent. Using his natural charisma and good looks, coupled with stories full of his own heroism on the battlefield, he'd seduced many fair maidens into joining him in bed for a single night of romance before they parted and never met again. In his travels from one city to another, he'd likely impregnated countless women — and the worst part about it was that those women were likely quite happy to bear those children for him, even if the man himself didn't keep count.

Rolf wouldn't have found it strange if there were at least a thousand babies out there sired from Hekarias' seed.

'If he ever becomes a noble...'

His name would spread far and wide, encouraging all of those women to come looking for him, expecting their "love" to be rekindled. Even if none of the women ever came, they would likely tell their children that such a man was their father — causing a future where plenty of fatherless children would embark on a journey to see their father due to curiosity or something similar.

'That man must absolutely never become a noble.'

The likelihood of Hekarias causing a war with another nation by having a tryst with some noble's daughter — or even worse, a noble's wife — was incredibly high. It was even more horrifying if it was anyone from the other side's royal family. War was inevitable if the cause of the incident was a noble, but if he was just a mercenary or a knight, the damages could be somewhat mitigated by punishing him with banishment.

Or his death, if it really came down to it.

'Well, it'll be a fake death though. He just needs to stay shut up in a room for a few years until the situation cools down.'

In fact, there was some merit in locking him up in advance. Rolf carefully considered suggesting the idea.

"Well, despite the trouble with Hekarias, today's a happy occasion for me... for all of the people living in the city of Aizen." Reivan turned his head to face his friend with a lonely smile. "And I wanted to share this happiness with you, Rolf. It would've been great if you were there to celebrate with us..."

Rolf — despite being far stronger than the man beside him — could not gather the strength to meet Reivan's bright blue eyes. He could only manage to mutter an apology, "Sorry about that..."

"Was it because of something that I did? If so, then I can apologize depending on what it is—"

"That's not it." Rolf hastily stopped his friend before he could say more. "It's no problem of yours, I just..."

Reivan nodded as he directed an expecting gaze at Rolf, silently waiting for him to continue.

"I..." Rolf hesitantly stumbled over the words he wanted to say. Eventually, he managed to release them from the cage he'd been hiding them in. "I have no place there."

His friend's brows knit as a frown crossed his face. "What? How can you have no place there? I'm there. You'll always have a place by my side, friend."

"I know that." Rolf suppressed his lips from curling into a smirk as he continued. "Have you seen the way they look at me? How they don't dare to meet my gaze? Or how they cower every time I accidentally raise my voice too much?"

"They..." Reivan's eyes widened in surprise. "They do that...?"

Rolf wordlessly nodded.

"That's absurd..."

"I'm guessing our three new Ascendant friends are also staying at the edges of the party? Perhaps spending it with their families?"

With a frown, Reivan wordlessly nodded.

'As expected.'

Strength was a wonderful thing to have in times of conflict.

But when wars ended and peace arrived? It was something people feared. After all, it was with strength that their previous rulers had oppressed them. In their minds, they wish that both sides had lost all of their strength fighting each other.

It was even worse for an Ascendant like Rolf. After all, with a pinch of his fingers, he could extinguish their lives without any resistance. And even if he wantonly went around killing people, nobody would ever be able to stop him — nobody would ever attempt to stop him, for fear of his wrath falling upon them instead.

All they could do was put on fake smiles as they licked his boots, hoping he grants them his mercy, favor, or both. But Rolf would never miss the dread that hid behind their eyes, after all, it was an essential skill in combat to discern an opponent's intentions through their gazes. To them, a being that could fly in the sky and command the power to scatter armies was an aberration — a freak of nature.

'A monster...'

"There is always a place where warriors are needed." Rolf heaved a deep sigh. "But never a place where they are wanted."

"A place where warriors are wanted, huh..." Reivan muttered as he hung his head low, seemingly ruminating on his friend's words. He then suddenly raised his head with a smirk on his face. "Those are surprisingly deep words, coming from you, my muscle-headed friend."

Recognizing his friend's attempt to clear the awkward air, Rolf responded with a chuckle. "I've been with you for more than twenty years, so perhaps some of your intelligence has rubbed off on me."

"Intelligence...? I'm not particularly smart, though. I'm just good at memorizing things I'm interested in."

Seeing Reivan vehemently deny it surprised Rolf.

'How could you even say that? With all the wondrous things you've invented...?'

Even Rolf hadn't believed in Reivan from the start. To him, the young boy he'd found dying of thirst on the road had just started talking nonsense about how he would change the world.

But then Reivan actually started accomplishing the things he said, with the methods he'd mentioned.

Rolf couldn't deny it at that point — the young man he'd saved once upon a time was a genius.

Curious to see how things would go, Rolf offered his strength. Soon enough, more people came forward to help Reivan tear down the status quo and build a brighter tomorrow. And if those people heard Reivan say what he'd just said, they would likely react the same way Rolf did — or perhaps with greater intensity.

'There should be a limit to a person's modesty...'

Rolf just inwardly shook his head, brushing off Reivan's words as the soon-to-be-crowned king's humbleness.

"Well, anyway..." Reivan cleared his throat with knit eyebrows, before bowing his head. "I wasn't aware of any of that, so I'm sorry for trying to cajole you into attending."

"Hey..." Rolf frowned as he hastily stopped his friend. "There's no need for you to apologize about that. Nobody can control other people's emotions. Not even you."

"That's not it... I just arbitrarily assumed that everyone felt the same as I did. I failed to consider that they wouldn't necessarily view you in the same light." Reivan heaved a weary sigh before leaning back until his back thumped against the rocky ground. While looking up at the starry sky, he spoke, "You see, I don't really view you as an Ascendant... I mean, you are one, but that's not the only... Gah! Why is speaking so hard? I don't know how to word these feelings..."

For a moment, there was only silence as Reivan arranged his thoughts and Rolf waited to hear them.

"To me... you were never the helpful yet fearsome Ascendant," Reivan spoke softly, letting the wind carry his voice forward. "To me, you are the person who saved me from dying of thirst in the middle of the road, instead of stealing my belongings or snickering at me. You are the person who humored my vague ideals, even though no one else did. And you, Rolf, were the only one to join me in drinking away the grief and misery I felt every time someone that I cherished died."

Rolf unconsciously looked down and closed his eyes, remembering the past two or so decades. It was a mere fraction of his more than a thousand years of existence, but Rolf would never treat forget it, nor would he treat it lightly. Attempting to heal from the constant loss of his comrades, Rolf had fled the constant warfare in the west to the eastern half of the continent, seeking to find a quiet place to spend eternity in.

That was when he met Reivan. And that meeting caused Rolf to jump into the fires of battle again — only this time, he had done it willingly, without dire circumstances or the desire for vengeance forcing him to do so.

"To me, you were never Rolf, the Sword Ghost." Reivan continued. "You were always just Rolf. The person with a heart of kindness despite countless years of warring. And the first friend I've ever made in this life."

'Reivan...'

Rolf felt the tear ducts he'd thought had dried up by now starting to work again — enough that he had to turn his face away in shame as he secretly used his essence to evaporate the tears. Perhaps his friend had just spoken his mind without much thought, but Rolf felt greatly moved by the honest words from his friend, who was an incredibly terrible liar.

"And maybe that's why I just assumed that everyone knew that side of you too, just like I did." Reivan chuckled sadly. "Guess I was wrong. For that, I apologize. I suppose this is just another lesson learned for today... oh, wait. Isn't it past midnight already? Does that mean that this lesson isn't counted on the same day as the one earlier? I wanted to have a record of learning two things in one day though..."

"What in the world are you on about now..." Rolf couldn't help but grin as he shook his head in exasperation. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters, it matters. You have to celebrate the little things in life, Rolf. Not just the big things. Otherwise, it'd be pretty boring. Engrave that in your heart since you'll probably be alive for a long time." Reivan winked before jumping up and stretching his back. "Well anyway, with this conversation, I've finally decided."

Rolf raised an eyebrow as he looked up at Reivan. "On what? Who your queen is going to be?"

"No, not that, you fool." Reivan grimaced as he gazed mockingly at Rolf. "You think I ever had any other options for that...? Naturally, it's going to be Tylah."

"Then what was it?"

"I was just getting to that..." Reivan cleared his throat and threw his chest out proudly. "I've decided what kind of country I'll be making."

"Hm... and which was the part of our conversation that convinced you of anything relating to nation-building, pray tell?"

"Do you still remember what you said earlier? You said that there was always a place where warriors are needed, but never a place where they were wanted, right?"

His friend's smug smirk somewhat irritated him, but Rolf nodded anyway.

"Well, if something doesn't exist, you make it. That also means that if a place doesn't exist, then you just have to make it too!" Reivan beamed as he marched to the end of the cliff. As he looked down upon the city he'd worked so hard to rule for the past decade, Reivan yelled his heart out. "That's why I'm gonna make it! I'm going to build a place where people like you can belong to! A place where warriors are needed and wanted!"

"What...?"

"It's going to be a wonderful place! Where people will look past their fear of your overwhelming power! They will instead look at and admire what you protect with that strength! And with the people's admiration, the warriors will fight with light hearts! And as they fight harder, the people will admire them even more! It'll be an infinite cycle! One that lasts for eternity!"

Watching his friend roar his thoughts to the world like a madman, Rolf could feel goosebumps sprouting out from all over his body. Even he wasn't sure if those goosebumps were from thinking Reivan was crazy or from being greatly shaken by his friend's ideals — no, his friend's decision.

"Whoo! That felt fucking great!" Reivan wiped the sweat that had formed on his brow and turned back to face Rolf, pointing a finger at the Ascendant. "You there! The middle-aged man with the beard!"

Rolf got shaken out of his thoughts as he spluttered out a reply. "Wh-what...?"

"You're going to help me!"

There was a palpable weight in the mortal man's words as they shook the air and fell on Rolf's ears. It was as if the current Reivan was a different person from the one Rolf had just been talking to earlier — and a whole lot different from the man he'd followed for the past two decades.

Reivan had gathered people to his cause with his visionary ideals and the results he'd obtained through rigorous effort, not because of some sort of charisma. In fact, Reivan was utterly lacking when it came to that aspect of being a ruler, falling flat when compared to all the other kings that Rolf had seen in his long life.

However, that was not the case at this very moment — charisma oozed from Reivan's pores as he smiled down at Rolf.

Rolf didn't know if it was a trick of the light, but it even seemed like Reivan's bright blue eyes were glowing with power, seemingly staring deep into Rolf's soul.

"Well? C'mon my friend, say you'll help me!"

Faced with those commanding words, Rolf felt like there was no other choice but to agree. "I will. I'll help you."

"I knew you would!" Reivan beamed widely, but Rolf didn't miss the relief on his face.

'I suppose the part of him that's terrible at hiding things hasn't changed...'

Rolf took comfort in that knowledge. He had started to wonder if someone had suddenly possessed his friend, but the ease by which Rolf could read the emotions on Reivan's face confirmed that the person in front of him was not some malignant ghost.

"To celebrate this momentous occasion, here's a gift from me!" Reivan flourished his right arm sideways, and suddenly, a pitch-black longsword materialized in his hand.

'How did he...'

"Oh, fuck! Why is it so damned heavy...?" Reivan cursed as his vain attempt to look impressive failed miserably as his stance was completely broken. The sword fell to the ground and lodged itself deeply into the rocky ground. He looked toward Rolf with an embarrassed look on his face. "Do you mind...?"

Rolf stood up in a daze and walked over to the sword before picking it up. It was certainly much heavier than any sword he'd ever wielded. The uninformed usually made the mistake of assuming that swords were incredibly heavy, but they were, in truth, not something all that difficult to pick up.

This sword, on the other hand, was probably what those uninformed people imagined. The blade that looked to be made of a material cut straight out of the night sky was likely as heavy as a horse and its carriage.

Still, an Ascendant like Rolf could lift and swing it around with ease.

The moment Rolf held the sword's handle, a shiver ran down his spine. It felt like the weapon he held belonged in his hand — like it was made to be wielded by him, and he, in turn, was made to wield it.

'What in the world is this sword...? No. A better question would be where it came from and how Reivan came to possess it.'

Scanning his friend's body for a moment, Rolf's attention immediately turned to the obsidian ring on Reivan's right middle finger.

'Where did that come from...?'

Reivan naturally owned a few rings, seeing as he ruled a city. But Rolf knew that he didn't usually wear any of them. He was also quite sure that his friend hadn't been wearing any jewelry earlier.

Following his gaze, Reivan smiled awkwardly as he raised his right hand, letting Rolf get a better look. "It's a spatial ring. Well, it's kinda like that..."

"A spatial ring...!?"

Rolf's shock was well-warranted, seeing as spatial rings were almost impossible to find, only existing in legends. After all, their ability to store things in a separate dimension required reality-bending abilities to create.

And the ability to bend reality was something only Transcendents were known to be capable of.

"Curious?" Reivan asked.

"...A bit, yes."

"Thought so..." Reivan scratched his cheek while looking down in apparent shame. "Sorry, but I can't tell you. I made a promise..."

"Bah. Keep your damn secrets." Rolf chuckled in good faith. He truly did not care what secrets his friend kept from him. Because no matter what it was, it would never change the fact that they had been through all sorts of things and faced all kinds of challenges together.

Whatever that secret was, they would still be friends. And that was what truly mattered.

'I don't want to say it, though...'

It would be too embarrassing after all. And Rolf was sure that Reivan would tease him about it for years. That was why he changed the topic. "So, is this sword a secret too?"

"Oh, no. It's not." Reivan eagerly jumped on the opportunity to talk about something else. "I know you go through your swords quickly because none of them can really take the force of your swings for too long... so I'm going to give you this. It's a sword that will never break. No matter what."

"Well, you seem oddly sure of that." Rolf couldn't help but snort dryly at his friend's confidence.

'How could such a thing possibly exist?'

"If you don't want to take my word for it, you can simply test it out later." Reivan rolled his eyes. "Do you want the sword or not?"

"It's a gift, so how could I refuse?"

Grasping it firmly, Rolf raised it aloft and inspected the blade's edge.

'It's insanely sharp...'

It almost felt like he'd get cut just by staring at it. He then performed various tests and gradually became horrified. His arm fell to his side as he gave his friend a look of confusion.

"My friend... which god owned this blade?"

Reivan's eyes widened for a moment before he chortled. "What are you blabbering about? Although that's been around for a long time, nobody has ever owned it before. So it's brand-new, just for you."

In a daze, Rolf looked down at his hand, where the unassumingly simple sword rested comfortably in his hand. "I can really have a weapon of this caliber?"

Just a few test swings had convinced Rolf — he would be invincible against enemies in the same realm if he used the sword. Which meant that nobody in the continent would be his match in single combat. The fraudulent weapon distorted the balance of power in the world.

'It feels like something like this shouldn't exist here...'

But it was just what he needed to close the gap between himself and the best of the best. Perhaps with this weapon, he could catch up to his betters.

"Of course." Reivan smiled teasingly. "I gave up a lot to get that, so properly take care of it, alright?"

"..." With his friend's confirmation, Rolf's grip on the blade tightened. His gaze was emotional as he stared at Reivan. "Thank you."

"There's no need for any of that crap between us. Just take it and use it." Seemingly embarrassed by the warrior's gratitude, Reivan switched topics. "Since it's such a good sword, why don't you name it?"

"Name it..." Rolf switched from dazedly staring at his friend to his new weapon. "That's true. A blade like this deserves a name."

"I know, right?"

"That's why you should name it. Since I'm horrible at naming things." Rolf pushed the sword onto Reivan.

"Uh, no. Why do I have to do it? I'm not particularly good at naming things either, y'know?"

"What do you mean? You were the one who named all your ingenious inventions. Even Aizen's grand name is from you."

"Ahaha..." Reivan looked away while scratching his cheek. "Yeah, no. I'll probably name it something like Excalibur or Ascalon."

"See? You're good at this. Those are wonderful names."

"Shut up. Don't use those, I don't want to be accused of being unoriginal by someone who knows about them... Anyway, I refuse to name it. It's your sword, so you think up a name for it. I already got it for you, so shouldn't you at least do this one thing? Don't you think there should be a limit to your shamelessness? Please do things in moderation."

"I will be fighting for my life with this weapon though?"

"The gods be damned... you're right."

Rolf chuckled. "So you'll do it?"

"No." Reivan firmly shook his head. "Your sword. Your name."

The two argued back and forth for a bit, trying to push the ordeal of thinking up an appropriate name — until Rolf ultimately lost to Reivan's stubbornness, that is.

"Fine... I'll think of something another time," Rolf conceded with a tired sigh.

"As you should." Reivan nodded in satisfaction. With a flourish of his left hand, another sword appeared in his hand, identical to the one he'd just given to Rolf. "That sword is this one's twin. Yours will never break, but mine can transform into any weapon that I've held at least once."

As if to demonstrate, the sword in Reivan's hand was replaced with a bow, before changing into a spear. After switching to a variety of weapons, some of which Rolf had never seen despite being well-traveled, the weapon returned to its original form.

"It can regenerate damage too, which is nice since it would be quite depressing if it ever broke..." Reivan explained as the sword disappeared.

"Twins..."

"Yep. Well, actually, there were three of them, but the last one has been missing for an incredibly long time. So for all intents and purposes, they're twins."

"Hmm..." Rolf hummed in understanding as he looked and pointed at Reivan's hand, where the sword had once been. "Can mine do that too?"

"Uh-huh." Reivan grinned evilly. "But you have to name it first."

Rolf grimaced as his arm fell back to his side.

Reivan's booming laughter filled the otherwise quiet mountain as he walked over to sit back down on the spot they previously occupied. "Come on and sit. Since you dislike drinking with those fellows below so much, then you have no other choice but to drink with me instead! We're not stopping til we taste everything from my father's cellar!"

With that, Reivan started taking strangely-shaped bottles out of nowhere before placing them on the ground in front of him.

Rolf sat down next to his friend and curiously took one for inspection. "There's booze in these?"

The bottle was made out of some strange transparent material, giving him a clear view of the light orange liquid within.

'Why does it look like piss? And it's cold too...'

"You bet you're new sword that there's booze inside!" Reivan excitedly cradled one of the bottles. "Wait till you taste it. You'll never be able to go back to the watered-down swill that we usually drink."

"They're that good?" Rolf grew even more eager to try the mysterious liquor in the mysterious container. In his long life, drinking was one of his small pleasures. He wanted to try it immediately. "So how do you open this?"

"With your hands, my friend." As if to demonstrate, and with a very punchable look on his face as he stared at Rolf, Reivan flicked the topmost part of the bottle with his middle finger.

A metallic part flew out and fell with a clatter on the ground.

'It smells wonderful...'

A refreshingly fruity scent wafted into his nose, making him gulp in anticipation. Not even deigning to use his hands, Rolf opened his bottle with a mere flourish of his Ascendent essence. Everything was fairly obvious to him at this point. He tipped the bottle and poured the contents into his mouth, trusting that his friend wasn't actually tricking him into drinking urine — which, Rolf thought, was very stupid of him because it wasn't beneath Reivan to do that.

"Hm...!?" The moment the alcohol made contact with his tongue, Rolf's eyes widened.

'It's so good...'

When he turned to face his friend to ask him what the drink was called, he only found a smug-looking bastard staring back at him.

"Well? Was it good?"

"...It is." Rolf had to push back the desire to deny it, but he couldn't lie his way out of this one. "What's it called?"

"Beer." Reivan took a swig from his own bottle before raising it high into the air. "A toast to my father and his liquor store! I hope you forgive this prodigal son for emptying your store all of a sudden! Please use my life insurance to restock!"

'So his father was a merchant?'

That would certainly explain why Reivan was so smart but didn't have the arrogance that nobles usually had. Rolf wasn't sure what "Layf in-shoo-runs" was, though.

'It's probably some merchant slang for something.'

Happy to discover something new about his friend, Rolf took another swig of beer.

"Pah!" Rolf licked his lips and savored the taste before taking another swig. It was so good that he was beginning to forget the taste of whatever he drank before.

For a while, Rolf enjoyed the various drinks while vaguely listening to Reivan's drunken blabbering.

"Ah!" Reivan suddenly exclaimed. He stopped saying nonsense toward the sky and nudged Rolf with his shoulder while pointing at the sky. "Rolf, look! It's a meteor shower!"

Rolf frowned. He'd almost dropped his bottle — which he knew would shatter easily, since Reivan graciously demonstrated that by accidentally dropping one a while ago.

'What's he so fussy about? And what's a meet-iyohr?'

Following his friend's gaze, Rolf was greeted by the fantastical sight of numerous shooting stars cutting across the night sky. He'd seen shooting stars before, but it was always just a single one — a fleeting event that was over before you even knew it. This was the first time he'd seen so many of them.

He didn't even get the chance to admire the sight though. Reivan kept on shaking his shoulder.

'This drunk fool...'

"Rolf! Quick! Make a wish!" A red-faced Reivan threw aside his bottle before joining his palms in prayer and closing his eyes.

"A-a wish...?"

"Yeah, you moron! Quick! You're supposed to make a wish when you see a shooting star! Make something up! Now be quiet! Let me finish my wish..."

Suddenly being told to make a wish left Rolf flabbergasted. Even with his accelerated thinking speed, he had difficulty thinking of one on the spot.

'A wish... What's my wish...?'

He'd never had such a thing. Sure, he had desires like everybody else. But none so grand and lofty that one would call it a wish. Any desire he's ever had would never compare to whatever it was his friend was wishing for so vehemently right now.

A ghost of battle that knew more battle than peace — that was what he was. Awakened to the harshness of life at a young age, he'd always been a practical person — only aiming for results he could realistically achieve. For most of his life, he lived a wretched existence of having older, more experienced members of his mercenary band die to extend his time in this world.

Once he'd eventually run out of people to protect him, he was too broken to live, but also too cowardly to kill himself. That was why he'd gone from battlefield to battlefield — the only place he's ever known — looking for the fight that would claim his life.

After a particularly bad storm during a naval skirmish sent him adrift, he luckily ended up on a deserted island where he found a strange fruit that helped him reach a higher realm. With newfound strength, he carved his name into the annals of Sentorale's history as a crazed demon who would show up anywhere that battle was waged.

It was only after a thousand years of this did he realize his foolishness.

How could he so willingly throw away his life when his comrades — the closest he had to a family — fought so hard to protect him?

Feeling lost, he had drifted to the east to get away from the western strife. Without the desire to die, he'd felt empty. That was when he met Reivan, who was only starting to become a man at the time. Things happened and they were together ever since — sharing fortunes and misfortunes with each other.

'A wish of my own...'

He had no such thing. For the past few years, he'd only gone along with whatever Reivan did. As for before that time, Rolf didn't even want to think about that part of his life — a part where he was better off with emptiness.

'I... can't think of anything...'

Even after racking his accelerated brain for so long, he came up completely empty.

And soon, the meteor shower ended without him making a wish at all.

Rolf heaved a heavy sigh, frustrated at himself. "Why am I like this..."

"What's with you? Why are you all depressed and shit?" Reivan slurred, seemingly more inebriated than he was before.

It appeared that Reivan had finished wishing while Rolf was busy with his thoughts, so he the soon-to-be-king resumed drinking like a fish. There was a newly opened bottle in his hand, and this one had a much stronger scent than anything before.

"As expected, whiskey's the best..." Reivan kissed the bottle like it was his lover before turning his wobbly gaze toward Rolf. "What'd you wish for, huh? You fuckin' bastard, tell me."

"I... wasn't able to make it in time."

"What the hell? Whatever. It's fine, just tell me what you came up with then. Maybe the stars accept late wishes..."

Rolf hesitated. He ultimately chose to toss the question back at his friend. "After you."

"What? Why do I gotta go first... well, fine. Whatever." The drunk shrugged before taking another swig. After wiping his lips with his hand, he said, "Well, I had a lot of wishes actually. Lots o' stars fallin', so I thought I could get away with makin' a few more, y'know?"

'Is that how it works...?'

Being unaware of such a tradition, everything was so fresh and new to the old Ascendant.

'It's obvious what he wished for, though. Something lofty, like the peace of the continent. Or a bountiful harvest to end the recent famine...'

But what came out of the drunk's mouth were surprisingly simple wishes.

"I wished that my wife could deliver my children safely. That my children, their children, and their children's children... basically all of my descendants grow up healthy, never knowing what hunger is. I wished that all of my loved ones can find happiness... stuff like that. I can't remember the rest... I think I wished for a bigger penis at some point, too... and s'more of this good stuff."

After waving the bottle of whiskey in Rolf's face as if to show it off, Reivan downed a good portion of its contents.

"That's it?" Rolf managed to ask after snapping out of his shock.

"Whaddaya mean that's it, huh? You lookin' for a fight?" Reivan threateningly shook his fist at the man he would never be able to beat in a fight.

Not minding at all, Rolf said, "I thought you'd wish for something bigger... like the smooth establishment of your new nation."

"Haaaah?" Reivan mockingly sneered at the warrior. "Are you an idiot? Why do I have to make a wish about sumthin' like that?"

The drunk took another swig before he dazedly stared up into the sky.

"I dun' need to make a wish. Sumthin' like that? I can do it myself." The soon-to-be-king confidently patted his own chest. "I fuckin' hate it when people wish for shit they can do themselves... they're just bein' lazy, I tell ya! Gods, shooting stars, and even wishing fountains... you're only supposed to wish for shit ya can't affect! Yer' supposed to do the rest yerself! It's yer life, so you gotta live it! Cuz the gods, the stars, and that fuckin fountain won't live it for ya!"

'He's unbelievably drunk...'

Despite the wisdom in his friend's words, Rolf couldn't take him seriously because he was slurring his words from intoxication.

"Those are certainly a good set of beliefs to pass down to the next generation." Rolf tried to placate the plastered man, but couldn't help but tease him a bit. "If you really believe that, then why did you wish for your descendants to grow up healthy and for your loved ones to be happy? That's something you can do yourself, no?"

Reivan downed another mouthful of booze before scoffing. "I wish it was."

Sensing the despair in his voice, Rolf tried to comfort his friend. "You speak too early. Luck is also a factor when it comes to Ascendance."

"Listen here, you fucker..." Reivan roughly wrapped his arm around Rolf's shoulder, gifting the warrior with a faceful of his alcohol-scented breath. "I'm more aware of my own limits than you are. I know that I'll never step into that realm."

"Reivan..."

"It's out of my hands. That is something I've come to accept. The only thing I can do is pave the way for a brighter future, where they can live the lives they want to live."

Silence followed Reivan's surprisingly sober declaration. But even this did not last long, as he took yet another swig of whiskey. His previous intensity gone with the wind, he drowsily hugged the bottle while barely pushing words out of his mouth.

"Rolf, when I'm gone... please... my family..."

At this, the Ascendant warrior nodded. "Of course. I'll properly watch over your loved ones."

"You too... you dumb fuck..." Reivan couldn't seem to stay sitting up anymore, his back slammed against the hard ground — or it would have, if Rolf hadn't softened the fall with a gust of wind. "You're... a loved one too. So you... better find... happiness too."

Rolf's face twitched at his friend's words.

'This guy keeps spouting out shit like this today...'

It felt like his heart was being moved a bit too much today. And it was all the drunk bastard laying in the dirt's fault.

"Those fuckin stars I wished to... might not do their job well..." Reivan, with his eyes closed, grabbed one of the empty bottles rolling around beside him and used it as a pillow. "That's why... you gotta help... my wish come true..."

Rolf nodded as he listened. "Right."

"But we gotta... make that place first. What... was it again...? Can't remember..."

"You said you'd make a place where warriors weren't just needed, but wanted too."

"That's it... I was just testin'... to see... if you listened."

'This drunk bastard...'

Even on the verge of passing out, Reivan still managed to mess around. At this point, Rolf had no choice but to acknowledge it as a divine skill.

"We... gotta make it..." Reivan yawned, tightening his arms around the half-empty bottle of whiskey. "A place where... warriors like you... can belong..."

'A place to belong...'

For Rolf, It had always been a question without an answer. But now, unlike what his wish was, Rolf could easily respond if Reivan asked.

'I belong right here, right now. In this moment.'

Here, next to his plastered friend, shielding him from the biting cold with a wall of energy so he didn't end up sick tomorrow, was where Rolf belonged at the moment. And perhaps tomorrow, he would have a different place to belong in, and a different place after that.

His home would be wherever the people he cared about were. Whether it was on a battlefield with a sea of corpses, on a rickety wagon with a sick donkey pulling it, or in a palace... it didn't matter.

"Hey... I just remembered..."

Rolf was startled when he suddenly heard Reivan speak even though he was supposed to be asleep. "What is it this time...?"

'You bastard... you didn't tell me... your wish..." Reivan lethargically used a burst of mana to propel a nearby bottle toward Rolf.

Naturally, the lazy attack would never make contact. The bottle stopped in mid-air as Rolf chuckled. "I thought I'd get away with it."

Eyes still closed, the drunk shook his head with a sneer. "Too early... for you... to pull one over... on me..."

Rolf wanted to try breaking one of the bottles against his friend's head just to see how he would react, but Rolf restrained himself. Since the stubborn fool would likely hound him for an answer otherwise, Rolf tried to come up with a wish.

Surprisingly, something popped into his head immediately this time.

"I wish for your wishes to come true... except for the ones I can affect. I'll be sure to do those myself."

"Psh..." Reivan scoffed before muttering, "Ya probably... couldn't come up... with sumthin'. S'why you went... with that..."

It took an enormous amount of self-control for Rolf not to throw his friend off the cliff at that moment.

"Well... I figured... this would happen... I... got you covered, friend..."

'What is that supposed to...'

"One o' my wishes... was for you... to find... something you wanna do..." Reivan smirked, even as he lay there with his eyes closed. But then he suddenly frowned "Hopefully, it comes true... unlike... my past ones..."

"So you've done this before?"

"Tha's right... a long time ago..."

"I see." Rolf nodded slowly as he looked up to the night sky. "And I'm assuming they didn't come true?"

"Yep..." Reivan grimaced before suddenly sitting up with a groan. "Fuck... remembering bad shit sobered me up a bit and beat the sleepiness right out of me. I'm gonna drink some more! I'm gonna drink till I pass out! Let's go!"

"I don't think that's a very good idea though..."

"Shush. Let's make bad decisions together then. That's what friends are for!" Heedless of his words, Reivan excitedly took out more alcohol. The pain behind his mask of cheerfulness did not evade Rolf's notice, but the warrior stayed silent.

Still looking up to the expanse of darkness dotted with countless dots of twinkling light, Rolf ruminated on his friend's words — something he did a lot of, since Reivan often said things he found hard to understand.

'Wishing upon a shooting star, hm?'

He'd never heard of a place that had such traditions. But he supposed that there was some truth to it.

After all, Reivan's wish for Rolf to find something he wanted to do had just come true.

'I want to see it.'

Rolf's hands clenched tightly, his nails digging into his callused palms.

'I want to see what kind of country you will make, my friend.'

A country where warriors were both wanted and needed. Rolf couldn't even begin to imagine what it would look like, but his heart beat rapidly with excitement and anticipation at the idea. How would it be done and how long would it take?

'Reivan always said he'd have to depend on his descendants...'

There was a limit to what could be achieved in the span of a normal human's life. Although Reivan had unlocked his Qi, slowing the aging process drastically, he would still only live to a maximum of two hundred years — and that's with an extremely healthy lifestyle and access to the best medicine available.

So, with that in mind, Reivan would likely leave most of the work to the future rulers of the nation.

Since there was never an assurance that a competent and honorable ruler would have capable and upright descendants, Rolf wondered how Reivan would handle his offspring. But for some reason, Rolf was sure that his friend had something in mind.

Now, the only thing left was him.

'I must become stronger.'

Battle was the only thing he was proficient in. He did not have the capability to help Reivan politically or financially. Nor would Rolf be any good as a diplomat to send to other nations.

Strength.

That was all he could offer to Reivan's wishes — no, his goal. And that was why it would become Rolf's goal to offer as much strength as possible.

'I'll do it...'

There was nothing special about him. Only his boundless experience in battle gave him a slight edge against most enemies. But even without the stars' help, Rolf would forge ahead with his own strength — however little it may be.

He would protect the nation Reivan would establish — the place that his friend would make for people like Rolf to belong to.

No matter what.

'I will see it... I will witness how this country is born. How it prospers. And how it falls.'

It would be up to Reivan's descendants and Rolf to make sure the last part never came to pass, though.

"Rolf! Don't just sit there and gawk. Here, take this!" Reivan pushed a newly opened bottle of beer toward his friend. He then raised his own bottle to the skies. "I make a toast to the stars! Hopefully, you don't disappoint me this time! Please..."

Rolf held his beer and continued to look at the sky, careful not to look at the friend who now had a constant stream of tears falling from his face.

'You don't need to worry, my friend. You don't need to wish upon these stars.'

They had already broken Reivan's heart once, as shown by the man's tears.

Rolf raised his bottle as well. However, he was not making a toast.

He was challenging them.

'I will do what you could not.'

If the stars couldn't grant his friend's wish, then Rolf would do it himself.

With his own power.

'I will become the star that grants his wishes.'

And by doing so, Rolf would also be able to do what he wanted.

"Oh..." Rolf's eyes widened as he clutched his chest. He'd suddenly felt something deep within his soul pulse with life — in fact, it was still doing so. "This is...?"

The heartbeat-like sensation grew faster and faster as Rolf heard what sounded like a newborn's cry of hunger in his head. It was as if the thing that had suddenly been born inside of Rolf was now asking for him to feed it something.

'Transcendence...'

He wasn't completely sure, but Rolf thought he'd caught a glimpse of the realm that lay beyond Ascendence. Excitement coursed through his veins as the desire to immediately seclude himself overcame him.

However, he quickly stopped himself. Transcendence could wait.

Right now, Rolf had to escort the mortal Reivan as he drank himself into the next week.

"You've gone quiet again, you fucker... What're you even thinking about...?" The aforementioned drunk grumbled before his eyes fell on the sword that had been unceremoniously left on the ground, along with countless empty bottles. "Oh? Did you manage to think up a name for the sword?"

"That's not what I..." Rolf was about to deny it, but his eyes brightened. "Actually, I think I have a good idea."

"Let's hear it then." Reivan proudly crossed his arms and raised his chin.

"Noksu Putolu."

Reivan grimaced.

"Noksu Putolu...What in the nine hells is that...?"

"It means 'Night' and 'Cut' in the language I'm most familiar with."

"Well, I don't care what it means, it sounds awful... Please don't give that name to such a good sword."

Rolf frowned. He'd actually thought the name sounded better in his head and instantly regretted saying it aloud, but being told that so bluntly really stung. "What do you suggest then...?"

"I told you you had to name it yourself... but whatever. I don't want you to call it something like Noksu Putolu again. And I suppose it counts since you came up with the base idea..."

Reivan then began writing out words on the ground. Even if it was mostly hard rock, Reivan had already unlocked his Qi, so the ordinary stone may as well be dough for him.

"There." Reivan sniffed in satisfaction at his handiwork. "Whad'ya think? Pretty great, huh?"

Rolf looked at the writing and admired the beautiful strokes that his friend had made. However...

"I can't understand it."

"Oh... that's right. My bad." Reivan slapped his forehead and explained, "It means 'Yoru no Kaikou' which basically means 'Night Splitter' in English... which is also a language you don't understand. Anyway, it means the same as that awful name earlier, but it sounds a bit better, no?"

"It does. Yoru no Kaikou." Rolf nodded, liking how the words rolled off his tongue. He picked up the sword and pointed it at the sky. "From now on, that is what this sword is called."

With this sword in hand, he would cut across the night sky and take his place amongst the stars.

'I will make our dreams come true.'

As if to celebrate the sword's christening, a shooting star shot across the sky. Except this one did not descend.

It rose up.

To Rolf's Ascendent eyes, the star's ascent was incredibly slow. However, it was steady as it persisted against the forces that chained it down.

 

 

'A bit too late, aren't you?'

Rolf chuckled at how the shooting star showed up when he'd decided to stop depending on wishes. However, Rolf did not think that seeing that lonely star was worthless.

'Are you telling me to be just like you, little star?'

Facing his friend with a smile, Rolf was surprised to see that Reivan had fallen asleep while sitting. Shaking his head in exasperation, Rolf gently helped the drunk into a more comfortable position before returning to his previous position.

With a newfound purpose and a good friend by his side, Rolf's smile could not be brighter. In his heart, he knew this happiness would not last forever. Eventually, his friend would leave him, just like all the others did.

But Rolf was alive. And so was Reivan. Happiness was the only emotion he should feel right now.

This moment was not in the memories of his past. Sorrow was for his future self. For now, he should enjoy the present.

"Good night, my friend."

 

---

 

Within the core region of the Sword Sanctum, atop the mountain that towered over Aizen's capital, Rolf the Sword Star opened his aged eyes.

"It seems like your descendant was able to adjust to the pressure, my friend."

As if in response, a gust of wind blew past, rustling the white cherry blossoms growing out of the tree beside him.

Rolf smiled as he looked up, admiring the oldest tree in the mountain.

"He did it so quickly too... his talent surpasses you greatly. But I suppose you would celebrate that."

The old man whose appearance hadn't changed for thousands of years chuckled as he spoke.

'Thousands of years... has it really been that long?'

It was an undoubtedly lengthy period of time. But to Rolf, it had gone by in the blink of an eye.

"Aizen has developed extremely well, my friend. You truly did not lie."

Numerous rulers had come and gone, becoming wiser and better every time the crown was passed down.

'And all of it was achieved with me barely doing anything.'

Most people would have vehemently denied it, if they'd heard his thoughts. However, all Rolf had done was protect the place and teach a few people a few things.

Reivan's descendants had done everything else. It was they, who built this nation to be what it was today.

"It never fails to amaze me...'

With his Transcendent senses, Rolf scanned the entire capital, along with a few cities that were close by.

A bustling marketplace. Restaurants and eateries that served piping hot food that gave off tantalizing aromas. Fields of wheat and all sorts of other crops. Buildings that looked as if they could stand against storms and time itself. Clean streets with not a single speck of dirt. Children playing with wooden swords and shields, not a care in the world.

It was a great place. A place that would never produce people like him.

'And that's a very good thing.'

Nobody should ever have to go through the things he went through. Especially not this nation's citizens.

'Although I'd really like someone to be similar enough to me in the way of strength... it's becoming increasingly hard to protect everything recently.'

It felt like there were more Transcendent-class Nightmare Spawns. Of course, Rolf was also getting stronger because of the experience of fighting against high-level foes, but all the same, he'd love some help soon.

'Perhaps Reivan, the young prince, is the one I've been waiting for?'

"I suppose I won't find out for a long time. He's still so young, after all. Much younger than when I first met you, my friend."

Rolf chuckled before he turned around.

"Well then, my friend. I'll have to leave you for now. I must meet the prince who's inherited your name. Afterward, I'll introduce you."

With that, the Sword Star started walking toward the entrance to the core region. He could instantly arrive at his destination, but sometimes, he simply felt like taking the long route.

A warm smile on his face, he thought of the bright — but somewhat impatient and cheeky — little prince.

'I hope he likes me.'

It would be great if he could get along with this Reivan as well.