Promises and Farewells
Raon returned to his room in the Annex after finishing his Mad Fang Sword training. The session was over, but the heat still burning through his body and mind had yet to cool.
What an incredible sword art.
"What's so great about that beastly swordsmanship?" Wrath grumbled, dismissing it as a vulgar art.
It isn't some ordinary beast. It's a tiger that leads the pack—one with sharp claws and a mind sharp enough to use them.
Sensory swordsmanship honed a fighter's combat instincts, training them to sniff out an opponent's weaknesses like a predator. Most such styles were so aggressively offensive that practitioners routinely fell for feints or got caught in counterattacks.
The Mad Fang Sword is different.
The Mad Fang Sword took ordinary sensory swordsmanship a step further. It refused to be deceived by an opponent's feints, and instead carved openings where none existed. If he mastered it fully, he would be able to punch through anyone's defense and drive his blade home—no matter who stood across from him.
"Speaking of senses, that reminds This King of something. Back when This King still ruled the Demon Realm, a strong little brat appeared who toppled demons with nothing but his inborn instincts. But who is This King? King of the Demon Realm, Monarch of Wrath. This King merely exhaled a puff of frost and brought that demon to its kne—"
Ahem.
Raon cracked his mouth wide in a yawn. Listening to Wrath ramble was making him suddenly, irresistibly sleepy.
"Listen! This is the kind of tale that becomes blood and flesh!"
Not my blood or flesh.
He waved the voice off—and a soft knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
He answered in a voice as low as the knock itself. The door opened, and Judiel stepped inside.
"You called for me?"
She knelt at the foot of the bed and bowed her head.
"I have something to settle before I leave."
"Please speak."
Raon looked at her expressionless face, then closed his eyes and opened them again.
"The Rage Worm I made you swallow on the first day was a fake."
Judiel's throat trembled, just slightly. It wasn't shock so much as confirmation—an I knew it kind of reaction.
"You already knew?"
"I wasn't certain. I only suspected."
"Suspected?"
"Yes. The first day I saw your true face, Young Master, I was so terrified I couldn't think at all. It never occurred to me that it might have been a lie."
She lifted her chin. Those sunken eyes of hers were striking.
"I was so afraid of you that all I could think about was staying alive. But the warmth of the people in the Annex slowly put me at ease. I had expected you to make strange demands of me, Young Master—but you treated me like a human being, and you even arranged a way for me to avoid suspicion from the Heavy Martial Palace."
The hard line of Judiel's mouth loosened, softening like cheese left out in the sun.
"Even so, I never dropped my guard around you. I assumed that slightly grown-up, boyish face you showed Madam and Helen was all an act. But after everything that happened, I realized it wasn't."
"Hm."
"The face you showed Lady Sylvia, and the look in your eyes when you threatened me—both of them were real. You simply wanted to protect this Annex."
Raon nodded without a word. She was right. Threatening her, terrifying her, turning her into a double agent—all of it had been for the sake of protecting the Annex.
"That was when I began to think you might not be the kind of person wicked enough to actually use a Rage Worm."
That part was wrong. Because of Derus Robert, he had no intention of ever using a Rage Worm as long as he lived—but to protect the Annex, he was capable of far worse.
"But that was only a suspicion. If you hadn't told me yourself, I never would have been sure. Why did you tell me?"
Judiel tilted her head, as if she genuinely couldn't understand.
"Because you've changed."
"Pardon?"
"You've been watching me. I've been watching you too."
Raon went on in a calm, even voice.
"Maybe it's the Annex working its peculiar magic. Sincerity started to show through that mask you were performing behind."
"That's…"
"I'd already seen through your identity, so you had no reason to put on a good face for anyone else. One word from me and you'd be thrown out or killed, no matter what you did. And yet you still tried to shield my mother and Helen with your own body. That wasn't an act."
Judiel's body flinched.
"You showed me your true self. I simply returned the favor and told you the truth."
"……"
She kept her head down and said nothing for a long time. Raon sat quietly and waited.
"I have a younger sibling. We were separated when I was sold, and I don't know where they are or what they're doing. But they told me they would let me see them again someday, so I had no choice but to follow their orders."
Judiel's voice, wet with unshed tears, settled in his chest.
Similar.
She had a younger sibling, and she had been sold rather than kidnapped—but her story was close enough to his previous life that he finally understood why her eyes had felt so familiar.
"I'll save them."
"What?"
Judiel's head snapped up in shock.
"You've seen it yourself. I'm not the type to sit still and take a beating. Karun isn't going to give up on targeting me or the Annex, which means we'll clash eventually."
Karun hadn't stopped at digging for information. During live combat training, he had even bribed a mage in an attempt to inflict a fatal wound. A man like that would never back down easily.
"Once I've settled things with Karun, I'll find your sibling. If they're alive, I'll do whatever it takes."
He had never lost a family of his own, but he thought he understood the heart she lived with. He had people precious to him now, too.
"Whether you believe me or not doesn't matter."
The desire to save her—this woman living a life so painfully similar to his previous one—was genuine. He had failed once already. That only made it more so.
Judiel stayed prostrate for a long while, palms braced against the floor, before she finally raised her head.
Her eyes had narrowed like a fox's. Her red lips hung in a flat, humorless line. Not a trace of a smile. This was the real expression he had seen on her once before.
"I have just one question. If I were to pass information about you to Karun Zieghart, what did you intend to do—telling me the truth about the Rage Worm?"
"I didn't think you would."
Because your eyes were the same as mine.
"That's an absurd answer."
"So? Are you going to?"
"…I will follow you."
Judiel's voice had changed. The usual gentleness was gone; it was dry as a dead leaf.
"It's done," Wrath murmured.
Yeah.
When a spy showed their true face and their true voice, it meant they had submitted in earnest. Just as Wrath said, it was safe to consider Judiel one of his people now.
"If you need anything, please tell me at any time."
Judiel offered him a bow as formal as one given to a family head. A thin white light gleamed in those once-dead eyes.
"While I'm gone, I'm leaving the Annex to you."
"Yes."
She bowed her head once more and left the room.
"Hah…"
Raon stretched out on the bed and let out a long breath.
A little different, though.
He and Judiel had lived similar lives, but they wanted different things. He had wanted freedom. She wanted to save her sibling. In some ways, that might have been the harder road.
"I've got a lot to do."
He had to raise Sylvia above the direct line. He had to take Derus's head. He had to pull Runaan away from Syria. And he had to save Judiel's sibling.
"There's only one way."
"And what would that be?"
"I have to get stronger."
He sat up, took the training sword from where it leaned against the wall, and buckled it at his waist.
"What do you think you're doing? Don't tell me…"
"That's right. Time to train."
Raon gave a firm nod and opened the door.
"You're a lunatic for training! Even the Demon Realm has never spawned a freak like you! Get some sleep! Sleep already!"
Two weeks passed, and morning broke on the day they would leave for the survival exam.
For the first time in a long while, Raon fastened a real sword at his hip and shrugged on a worn coat. Dressed like that, he looked more like a mercenary or an adventurer than a swordsman.
He slung on a backpack enchanted with a lightening spell, gave the room one last look, and stepped out. The lobby was empty. He huffed a quiet laugh and opened the front door.
Sylvia, Helen, and the maids were standing in a line in front of the entrance.
"Y-Young Master. You're leaving now, aren't you. You have to go, don't you…"
Helen sniffled as she pressed a lunchbox, strips of jerky, and other provisions into his hands.
"Young Master, you must be careful."
"Don't push yourself, whatever you do."
"If it gets too hard, you run, all right?"
The maids each offered a word and a travel item they had prepared. He had already packed everything, but he accepted it all and stuffed it into the backpack anyway.
"Thank you."
"Please come back safely."
Judiel offered her own farewell and held out a wrapped bundle.
Raon received every last greeting, then walked to Sylvia, who stood at the very end of the line.
"Raon. Come back safely. Mom will be waiting right here."
She said she would wait, and she smiled. Every maid had tears welling in her eyes, but Sylvia smiled alone.
"Yeah."
He knew exactly what that smile cost her. Raon bowed his head and drew her into a light embrace.
"I'll be back."
He brushed his thumb along the corner of her eye, which had begun to tremble, then turned away.
"Young Master! Be careful!"
"You have to come back healthy!"
"Don't you skip any meals!"
He raised a hand in answer to the voices at his back and headed for the training ground.
"It's only a year. I don't see why they're making such a fuss."
Because it's a dangerous place.
Every maid except Judiel had been at the Annex since the day he was born. Of course they would worry, watching a child they thought of as a son walk into danger.
"This King has lived for thousands of years, battling dangers so vile and so vicious that humans cannot even imag—"
Is that so.
"Would you please listen? This is genuinely import—"
Yes, yes.
Raon needled Wrath as he pushed open the training ground doors. The trainees and instructors were all gathered in the center.
"You're late!"
Rimer, perched on the edge of the platform, grinned and waved him over.
"Everyone's here, so I'll announce your graduation exam one more time. Duration: one year. Survive in your assigned locations. Simple, right?"
"Th-that place isn't normal, though!"
Dorian, who would be going to Habun Castle with Raon, was already trembling so hard his lips shook.
"If it were easy, it wouldn't be a test."
"Urgh!"
"He's seriously the worst…"
"Additionally, you are not permitted to use the Zieghart name. Drop the surname and go by your given names only. Set your occupation as mercenary or trainee swordsman—something in that range."
Rimer told them to go suffer a little and kicked his legs idly in the air. He swept a look over the scowling trainees and let a breezy smile slip across his face.
"I'll be honest with you, last of all. Your skill already isn't far off from a newly minted swordsman's. If you endure this trial, you'll be able to climb even higher."
His eyes and voice had turned grave. The trainees straightened their backs.
"And this is a gift."
Rimer pointed to a box in front of the platform, marked with a lion's head. An instructor lifted the lid, revealing dozens of gray gloves.
"These are the knight gauntlets we were promised when we defeated the Owen Kingdom. Good thing they arrived in time."
He ran a hand over the gloves and grinned.
"They're light, and they protect the hands and wrists besides. Even money can't easily buy these, so take them with some gratitude."
Rimer personally gathered the gauntlets and handed them out one by one.
"Not bad."
Raon slipped a pair onto his hands and nodded. They fit perfectly; there wasn't the slightest discomfort when he gripped a sword. Typical of Owen, famous for its craftsmanship.
"I hope to see you again in good health. That's all."
Rimer climbed back onto the platform and smiled.
"Fall in."
At Raon's command, the trainees formed ranks in front of the platform.
"Salute the instructors."
"Thank you for everything!"
The trainees bowed their heads to the instructors. The shout, packed with genuine feeling, shook the training ground.
"Come back grown. I'll be waiting right here."
Rimer said the same words Sylvia had, then left the training ground. The instructors each offered a word of encouragement and followed after him.
Raon turned to face the trainees. He met eyes that had each been steeled with their own resolve, and nodded.
"I don't have anything special to say."
"Huh?"
"Hey! You're going to be like that even today?"
"This might be the last time we see each other—the top student should at least say something!"
"You talk plenty any other day!"
The trainees, who had grown close through everything they had shared, stamped their feet like angry monkeys.
"Fine. One thing."
Raon raised a hand, and every mouth shut. They lifted their chins as stiffly as if they were listening to an instructor.
"There's a saying that martial artists who survive their first real battle don't die easily. It was by chance, but we already went through a genuine fight."
The trainees' eyes went back to a year ago, when they had faced the Blood Fiend. Some felt fear. Some felt fighting spirit. Some felt regret.
"You all survived a situation you should have died in, and you completed the mission. Just like the saying goes, you don't die. Come back strong—strong enough that you won't shame the name of the Fifth Training Ground."
"Uaaaaah!"
"Let's win and live!"
"Let's go!"
The trainees drew their swords. Of one heart, they roared.
Raon looked at the fired-up trainees and stepped aside. From here on, it was each of them on their own time.
"Raon Zieghart."
Burren approached with a tense expression.
"This year, I'm going to grow with everything I have. The moment I get back, I'm challenging you to a duel—so don't you disappoint me."
"Trying to run away again?"
"Th-that's—! That's because you were trying to kill me!"
The confident voice shrank like a hungry child's.
"I never did. We were just training swordsmanship."
"Anyway! I'm going first. You get stronger, no matter what! Strong enough that when I catch up to you, I can actually be satisfied!"
He shouted that they should live like Zieghart swordsmen wherever they went, and strode off. Crain, who was leaving with him, gave a small nod.
"Hey."
This time it was Marta. Her nose was scrunched up tight.
"I don't forget debts, and I don't forget grudges. You've given me both, so there's no way I can forget you."
"Right."
"I have to pay both of them back, so don't you dare die out there. If you die, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself."
"Ah, and my mom says thanks for the meat. Come by the Annex next time. Stay a while."
"You pick now to say something like that…"
"Have a good trip. Don't die."
"Kh."
She muttered something unintelligible with her head down.
"Don't you die either. Not ever!"
Marta jabbed a finger at him, left those last words hanging, and walked out of the training ground alone.
Hmm-hmm.
That little hum had started to sound almost cute. He turned around, and sure enough, Runaan was standing there.
"Here."
She held out the ice cream box in her hands.
"Ice cream girl! Even when This King rules the world, This King shall take special care of you."
Wrath licked his lips at length, already tasting ice cream. He had always been fond of Runaan, who brought him ice cream every time.
Raon reached to open the lid, thinking she meant for him to eat one—and Runaan pushed the entire box into his hands.
"You want me to take all of it?"
"Mm."
"Ohh! Ice cream girl! This King hereby appoints you as my first maid. You may not know this, but—"
Go away for a bit.
Raon shoved the fawning Wrath back into the bracelet.
"Are you sure you can give me all of this? What about you?"
"Here."
Runaan pulled ice cream boxes from her bag. One, two, three, four. Four of them. She held up the four boxes and nodded, big and slow, as if to say, See?
"That's impressive."
Raon huffed a laugh, pulled a pouch of homemade jerky from his bag, and set it on top of her boxes.
"I made it myself, so it should taste good. Eat it on the road when you get bored."
Runaan stared blankly at the jerky pouch, then nodded.
"Thanks."
"Thank you too."
"Mm."
The mouth that had been frozen shut like ice curved, just slightly.
"Have a good trip."
Runaan turned her hand in a little circle, like waving a balloon, and left the training ground.
One by one the trainees departed, until only Raon and Dorian remained.
"Ugh, I don't wanna go. I really don't."
Dorian was already so terrified he had planted his forehead on the floor.
"Then how about we make a stop somewhere else first?"
Raon grabbed Dorian by the scruff and hauled him up. The boy looked one blink away from tears.
"Huh? What? Where?"
"The commercial city of Camelun."
He pointed south and smiled.
"Let's get properly geared up before we start fighting."