A man with blond hair and purple eyes sat on the edge of a roof, his black cloak fluttering in the wind. On his lap was a long staff with a purple gemstone embedded on one end, and with a gold cap on the other. The man seemed completely calm as he stared out into the distance, his eyes surveying the sloped rooftops.
Soft footsteps approached, signalling the arrival of another man, this time with brown hair. One of his eyes was a normal brown color, while the other was a vibrant green. No clinking sounds came from this man, despite him wearing a full set of metallic plate armor. A helmet was under his arm and a scabbard containing a greatsword was strapped to his back.
"What are you doing out here?" asked the brown haired man.
"I was just thinking. It's just...you and I, we've lived for nearly a thousand years. Ten times longer than any human should live."
"Arguably, we are not humans anymore. We may live for thousands more. Who knows?"
"There's a difference between those who have grown powerful, and those who are inherently powerful."
"Is there?"
"The formative years of our lives have a massive effect on the rest of our lives. All our values, beliefs are formed during this time. You and I have had a hard time adjusting to it."
"True, but being born powerful also tends to make one more careless. There are both benefits and downsides. Besides, we will grow into it. Physically speaking, we are no different from them."
"We are nothing but people who were lucky. Our talent, the fact that we survived during our early years, everything can be said to be a coincidence. But those who were born as higher existences are more lucky than us, don't you think?"
The armored brown haired man tried to respond, but closed his mouth, seemingly at a loss for words.
A tangible, deafening silence ensued. Both of the men embraced the silence. Although one was wearing a rather shiny set of armor, their presences didn't stand out in the way one would expect them to. Instead of being gaudy, flashy, and impressive, they exuded quiet confidence - the type that could only develop after intense suffering and struggling.
"I decided." The brown haired man broke the silence, sitting down on the ledge next to the blond man.
"Decided what?"
"I'm going to pass on my techniques. My 'legacy,' if you want to call it that."
"Pass on?"
"I'll find a successor that can use my arts. When I die, they will inherit everything I have."
"Is there a goal you would give them?"
"...not really. I think it would just make me feel better. More assured. I would just give them power, I suppose. Maybe they could make it into their own."
The blond haired man turned his head towards the brown haired man.
"Such power can shake the balance of the world. If it falls into the wrong hands…"
"We were chosen to become higher existences, and we could have gone wrong ourselves. Our mentor's plans weren't exactly foolproof either. I can try and make sure that the person does not go drunk with power, and I have the means to do so. I do not think that the risk is great enough to discourage me from doing this. After all, you just said it yourself, right? The person who I chose will be lucky. Nothing more, nothing less."
It was the blond haired man's turn to be silent.
"You know, that's one of the few good ideas you've come up with," the blond man eventually said.
"..."
The brown haired man started drawing his sword, a meter long double edged blade tinged with red at the edges..
"Okay okay! I'm sorry! Put that back!"
The brown haired man laughed, which caused a slightly sheepish grin to emerge on the face of the blond man. The mood, which had been quite heavy previously, lightened up a bit.
"I think I could make a grimoire to pass down all my knowledge. Technical knowledge, at least."
"Ah yes, the linguistics expert strikes again. He will leave behind the greatest treasures, capable of splitting the oceans and building new land masses, in order to help some random person find whether or not the process in which morphemes are grammaticized is affected by lexical substitution."
"You're just stringing words that you don't even know together. Anyways, if I'm writing a book, what are you going to do?"
"...I want to make a hat."
"A hat?"
"I used to love wearing hats, but I couldn't since I became a knight. I always had to wear a helmet, and I wasn't even allowed to wear a plume."
"...well, if you can make it work, go for it?"
"I don't think it will be too hard. But they will have to have the type of mana core that I have."
"Ah, that's true. You and I both."
The brown haired man chuckled lightly.
"What's funny?"
"I'm just imagining the people that will run into these items. When you think of legendary artifacts, you think of swords. What if you run into the man with some of the strongest artifacts in the world, and they're holding a book and a feathered headdress like the one the Dame Mentillasque used to wear?"
"Don't tell me you're making your hat like that. Although, you could probably give your successor good training. Mobs of people will try and give him a beating because of that hat."
"Well, it's better than becoming a bookworm."
"No, I don't think anybody would choose that headdress over my book. You better make it a different type of hat."
"No, they would clearly choose the hat. Maybe I could make it so that it conforms to the user's idea of a hat."
"Ah whatever." The blond man waved his hand and laid down on the roof. "The chance of a single person meeting the qualifications for both of us is zero."
"The chance of a single person meeting the qualifications for only one of the items is pretty much zero as well. It's just a matter of luck."
"Nothing but luck, eh?"
"Just like you and I became strong because we were lucky, whoever has the fortune to find the book or the feathered atrocity will become strong as well."
"If you phrase it like that, luck is the only thing that matters."
"That's why the saying 'Luck is a virtue' exists."
"I don't buy that. In my opinion, luck is an illusion generated by a series of coincidences."
"Sure, sure."
==============
"Who are you really?"
Of course, the beanie wasn't exactly surprised at this question. It had always been in the air, but James never asked outright.
After a small pause, it responded.
"I would assume that you already know, from the way you've been asking me leading questions."
"I am pretty sure I know the answer," James admitted. "But, I'd like to hear it from your own mouth. Also, I don't want to run the risk of looking like an absolute buffoon if I'm somehow wrong."
The beanie sighed. "Very well. Then, I shall formally introduce myself. My name is Ajartum, one of the two heroes of Alnar. I was born a commoner in the kingdom of Kalo Ursted, so I don't have a surname.
"Okay. Nice to meet you."
"...you know, it's actually quite refreshing to meet a human who doesn't cower when meeting me. It's been a while since that's happened."
"Well, do you want me to cower?"
Ajartum laughed. "No, not particularly."
"Nice to meet you, God Blade."
"Stop it. You will eventually become famous and you will understand the pain of having such titles. It's a pain. They're gonna call you something bombastic, like the 'Angelic Avenger' and every single time someone sees you, and you will want to throttle them." Ajartum spoke with ardent passion, as if he was itching to throttle James.
James waved him off and got to the point: "So, what's your reason for hiding your identity all this while?"
"Hmm, I can tell you that. This is something very important to you and your future growth." The beanie's serious tone caused James to become serious as well.
"This hat that I am in has the same function as that grimoire: to make you our disciple, so to speak. This was an idea Viann and I came up with and acted on together."
"Really?"
"Yes."
James nodded. "Then...you guys were both really powerful, right? So, there should have been basically no chance that I got both items."
"That is partially correct. The chance that you found both was minimal, but it was possible. However, the more surprising fact is that you didn't just find both items, you qualified for them. Viann and I were considered the two heroes, but we could only gain that power and position because we had specific types of mana cores. However, we were considered opposites."
"Opposites?"
"Both of our cores dispersed mana. However, Viann's core allowed him to perceive and change the flow of mana, allowing him to manipulate the mana in his surroundings better. He became a mage. My core enhanced my ability to influence the mana within my body. Basically, I could reinforce my body more than others could, and I became a warrior type. Both of our most powerful techniques hinge off of these magic cores. This is why finding a successor was hard for us - they must have both the innate talent, or magic core type, and a good personality."
Realization washed over James' face. "Then, that means I have the characteristics of both mana cores? I can manipulate the mana in my surroundings and in my body?"
The beanie - no, Ajartum - let out a hollow laugh. "You won't believe me when I say this, seeing that you're pretty much powerless right now, but you, in terms of talent, are a complete monster. More so than either of us."
James sat there, slightly shocked, but he recovered enough to ask another question.
"You said I needed a good personality, right?"
"Ah, right. Actually, The things you do in the dungeon are, to an extent, recorded. We used that system to find good candidates. Well, I suppose if you put it that way, there was no chance of someone getting both the hat and the grimoire without being able to use them. Anyways, I can look through the records…ah. Holy shit. You killed a tier 4 monster? Before you even got me? 'An act of valiance, struggling against an undefeatable foe for the sake of protecting passerby, and eventually prevailing.' That'll be why."
James did get the beanie as a reward for that incident. He winced remembering it. So, he machine gunned all the questions he had never been able to ask.
"Then, what's the point of this dungeon? Other worlds exist, right? LIke the one you came from. Obviously, the world I came from is different. You even thought I was a noble due to my glasses. Also, how was that bear monster created on Earth? And-"
"Hey, hey. I can't answer everything right now. However, you will grow strong enough to receive those answers in...a month or two. Maximum."
James sighed. If Ajartum didn't want to tell him, or couldn't, James had no way of forcing him. Besides, if Ajartum said that he would reach that point in two months, he probably would.
"Then, one last question? It might not be very important."
"Go ahead."
"Why are you a hat?"