EP.12

In front of the chairman’s office located on one of the upper floors of Nineveh’s headquarters, a woman with deep purple hair glanced at the nameplate on the office door and gently knocked.

Knock, knock—

The sound was slow yet dignified, somehow radiating a sense of grandeur.

“…Come in.”

As permission was granted, the woman with purple hair opened the door and stepped into the chairman’s office.

Inside the office, a woman was seated at a desk, scribbling something on a document.

To an outsider, she might merely appear as a delicate noblewoman, but the woman knew all too well that this was the chairman overseeing Nineveh and simultaneously the strongest swordsman in the empire.

“You’ve arrived right on time, Erekaya del Pendragon.”

“I believe it wouldn’t be wise of me to arrive late if the chairman called for me directly.”

At Erekaya’s graceful reply, the chairman narrowed her eyes slightly.

“…It seems I forgot to close the door, Erekaya.”

Bang—

In the next moment, the slightly ajar door of the chairman’s office closed on its own, an extreme display of psychokinesis.

This technique could typically only lift small stones from the ground and was a skill that trained warriors could utilize, yet the chairman’s control over psychokinesis surpassed such mundane levels entirely.

“From now on, please close the door tightly when you enter the office, Lady Erekaya. I do not appreciate drafts coming through the door.”

“…I believe I mentioned this before. You can treat me as a peer within Nineveh. Here, I’m just a mere student.”

Despite Erekaya’s sigh and words, the chairman merely shrugged.

“Is that not why I called you here to the office? I thought this was the best way to avoid unnecessary distractions.”

Saying that, the chairman led her to a teatable set up in one corner of the room. Perhaps it was prepared in advance, as the teapot on the table was filled with black tea.

“Would you like some? I have prepared Earl Grey, which I believe you enjoy.”

“…I suppose I shall.”

With that, Erekaya sat opposite the chairman and grasped the teacup. Every simple movement she made was imbued with noble elegance and grace.

“By the way, may I ask why you called for me? If the count summoned me to his office, it must be something exceptional.”

After placing the teacup back onto the table, the chairman gazed at her intently.

“Before I answer that question, may I ask you a question in return, Lady Erekaya?”

“If it’s something I can answer, feel free to ask.”

With Erekaya’s consent, the chairman opened her mouth, her expression serious.

“I’ll get straight to the point. Is there a man of your age in the current Pendragon Dukedom?”

“…A man of my age, you say?”

Erekaya tilted her head slightly at the chairman’s question.

“Well, if we include extended family, there are a few that come to mind, but I think it would be a stretch to call them my age. The youngest among them is still about twenty years older than I am.”
“Are you referring to unofficial counts as well?”

In an instant, the air over the table became chillingly tense.

Erekaya del Pendragon certainly understood the implication of whether there were any male heirs “unofficially” recognized.

“…What do you mean? Are you insinuating that the Count is disrespecting my father and, by extension, the Pendragon Dukedom?”

“That is not the case. I had no such intention. However, this matter is exceedingly important to me, and thus I took the risk of being impolite by asking you, Lady Erekaya.”

The chairman’s expression remained serious throughout her explanation. Only then did Erekaya realize that the chairman was sincere, and with a sigh, she provided her response.

“To my knowledge, there are no male heirs of my age from the Pendragon Dukedom, even unofficially. Setting everything else aside, it’s impossible to hide the color of our hair.”

As she spoke, Erekaya tapped her purple hair lightly.

Indeed, her statement was accurate. For reasons unknown, those who inherit the Pendragon bloodline are born with purple hair without exception.

It could be said that no one throughout the entire continent naturally arrives with purple hair, so if a bastard were to be born outside the Pendragon Dukedom, it would be impossible for it not to become public knowledge.

“…Is that so?”

It was the response she had anticipated. Yet, it was not the answer the chairman had wanted. With that, a significant hypothesis supporting the identity of the man was effectively discarded.

“Yesterday, an exceptional admission candidate visited Nineveh.”

At that statement, Erekaya raised her eyebrows slightly. She was all too aware of what the term “exceptional admission candidate” entailed.

“He introduced himself as a descendant of the Seven Heroes. And… he was strong. Very strong.”

“Strong, you say? To what extent?”

“I can’t say for sure. He concealed his true abilities, and moreover, he was not someone affected by the Divine Eye of Judgment. However, if I were to share my vague instinct…”

The chairman gripped her own right hand tightly. Admitting her own shortcomings and weaknesses to others was indeed a humiliating experience for her.

“He is not simply beneath me. I must also consider the possibility that I could be defeated.”

That was outrageous. As far as Erekaya knew, the chairman was a powerful individual capable of contending for the top ranks within the empire. The idea that someone close to Erekaya’s age could attain such strength seemed utterly implausible.

“Then, could he truly be a descendant of the Seven Heroes?”

“I cannot say for certain. However, he possesses strength of that caliber at his age. If he claims to be a descendant of the Seven Heroes, we have no choice but to believe him.”

Whether that man named Jin was indeed a descendant of the Seven Heroes was not particularly important. Because once the chairman acknowledged that his strength paralleled hers, the empire had no choice but to take measures to capture him by any means necessary.

“Interestingly, one of my subordinates mentioned something peculiar about that man. They remarked that all of his subtle traits bore a striking resemblance to those of you, Lady Erekaya.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said. His breathing, speech, stride, etiquette, and even manner of walking—all of them were remarkably similar to yours. And the commonality among those traits is none other than—”
“I wanted to convey that these aspects are not innate but can be corrected through acquired education.”

Only then did Erekaya understand why the chairman had posed the impolite question about a possible illegitimate child within the Pendragon Dukedom.

No matter how vast the continent is or how many talents are present, amassing such strength at such a young age is nearly impossible.

However, if an individual possesses an excellent lineage and extraordinary talent, supported by a distinguished master and noble family, one could argue that it is not entirely impossible.

Given the unmatched strength for his age, the noble demeanor that contradicted his shabby clothing, and the regal atmosphere reminiscent of Erekaya del Pendragon—all of these traits combined lead to only one conclusion, wouldn’t they?

“As I have already stated, to my knowledge, there are no male heirs of my generation from the Pendragon Dukedom. But…”

Suddenly, a figure flashed through Erekaya’s mind.

Two hundred years ago, the great hero who saved the world from crisis.

And fifty years ago, the irresponsible ancestor who vanished while vowing to complete the unfinished Pendragon sword.

The Sword Saint, Klérance del Pendragon.

What if, and this is merely hypothetical, the Sword Saint who disappeared fifty years ago was still alive?

What if he had indeed completed the Pendragon sword, which was left unfinished as he claimed before leaving?

What if he had entrusted the completed Pendragon sword to his disciple?

…This is absurd. These are merely a series of conjectures piled on top of each other.

In the first place, the Sword Saint would never pass the Pendragon sword to someone unrelated to them. The Sword Saint was also a part of Pendragon and understood the nobility embedded in their bloodline.

Moreover, the Pendragon sword is a technique that unfolds based on the bloodline abilities flowing through their veins. Unless one inherits the Pendragon blood, wielding their sword is nearly impossible.

It is a theoretically perfect swordsmanship, yet at the same time, it cannot be wielded by just anyone; thus, if those who inherit Pendragon blood were to disappear from the world, their incomplete swordsmanship would surely be doomed to extinction alongside them.

But what if the Sword Saint, who went missing fifty years ago, completed their sword and passed it on to someone else… If that leads to the conclusion that the man received the Pendragon sword… then suddenly, the explanation for his identity becomes entirely comprehensible.

…Of course, Erekaya hated to accept that he had any connection to Pendragon.

“If he is indeed connected to the Pendragon Dukedom, and truly a descendant of the Seven Heroes…”

Then, he would not be entirely unrelated to a woman named Erekaya del Pendragon.

“…What is his name?”

“He introduced himself as Jin.”

“…Jin.”

Jin, Jin. To avoid forgetting, Erekaya mentally repeated the name multiple times.

She would likely never forget that name.

Yes, absolutely.