The Two-Tone Flower Blooms

Raon and Grier, the Third Prince of the Owen Kingdom, stepped into a quiet teahouse tucked down an alley outside the black market.

"Hmm. Have I come at a bad time?"

Grier de Owen frowned as he turned his teacup in his hands.

"Not at all. Your timing is perfect."

Raon shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.

He arrived at exactly the right moment.

Bound by the exam, he hadn't been able to give his own name. Grier's appearance had pulled him clean out of the crisis. The rule had been not to reveal his identity himself—it had said nothing about someone else doing it for him. The evaluation wouldn't take a single mark for it.

She swallowed it whole.

Grier hadn't mentioned a collateral line. He'd only called Raon a swordsmanship genius, and Jayna had clearly taken him for a direct descendant. The look on her face when the hood came down had said it all.

Not that I was out of options if he hadn't shown up.

Even without Grier, there had been plenty of ways to slip that noose. Still, this had been the cleanest solution by far.

This King was not mistaken. You really are a thoroughly wicked creature. A demon suits you far better than a human.

You might be right.

Raon let out a quiet chuckle. He was no good man. For the sake of his goals, he was prepared to become a demon even worse than Wrath.

"So. What brings you all the way out here?"

Grier took a sip of tea and finally asked.

"I stopped in to buy equipment before sitting the exam."

"Exam?"

"The exam to become a swordsman."

"Ah, the graduation exam. So I beat you to it, then?"

"Pardon?"

"Heh."

Grier smiled and lifted the sword at his hip, setting it on the table. He drew it just far enough to show the lion emblem engraved on the blade.

"Oh! The knight's insignia!"

Dorian, who had been half out of his mind, shot to his feet.

"Well, being a prince makes the title of knight a little awkward—but at least my skill has been recognized."

"Congratulations."

"Haha. Thank you."

Grier traced the lion emblem with genuine care, then slid the blade home again.

"What a thing to witness, though. The genius swordsman of Zieghart, suspected of being a thief."

He muttered it as if the idea itself were absurd.

You dull-witted fool! That's the truth! This lunatic really did steal it!

"Urgh!"

Wrath, furious that he couldn't speak, vented a burst of cold, and Dorian let out a strangled groan.

"Don't worry too much about Jayna. She was raised so preciously she never learned any manners. I'll have a word with her."

"I appreciate that."

"So what sort of equipment are you looking for?"

"A sword, to start. Until we're official swordsmen, we aren't allowed to keep a personal blade."

Raon tapped the sword at his side. It wasn't bad—but it wasn't good, either. He wanted something new before the fighting started.

"Hmm. In that case, I'll point you somewhere worthwhile. There's a workshop district at the western end of the city, and tucked in the corner of it…"

Grier traced a series of directions in the air, steering him toward a particular shop.

"It's small and filthy, but the craftsmanship is the real thing. I'd take you there myself, but I still have business to finish."

"There's no need. The introduction is more than enough."

Raon shook his head. The introduction alone would have been plenty—but Grier showing up today had already been a gift.

"I was hoping we could spar again. A real shame."

"I feel the same."

The aura of a man who had earned his knighthood was a different caliber from before. Like Raon, he seemed to have broken through a wall by repeating missions and training until something gave.

"You must come to Owen sometime. I want a proper match, with nothing else in the way."

He vanished with the same smiling face Raon had last seen at House Zieghart. Judging by the direction, he was heading back down into the black market.

"Wow. We actually made it out of that alive."

Dorian let out a sigh long enough to spool into thread.

"I never thought you'd just charge in like that, Young Master. Good grief…"

"I had it all planned out."

Raon smiled. Dorian might have been a wreck, but Raon hadn't been rattled for a second. Every piece of that situation had sat in the palm of his hand.

"I find that hard to believe, but if you say so, Young Master. Shall we head to the workshop, then?"

"No."

Raon felt a faint stir from the butterfly in his inner pocket and shook his head.

"There's something I need to do first."

After taking a room at an inn, Raon drew the Black Butterfly from his inner pocket.

A butterfly wreathed in a soft black radiance fluttered down and settled on his finger. The light was beautiful enough to stare at forever—but this was not the creature's true form.

What exactly do you intend to do with that useless butterfly you stole?

"There's no such thing as useless in this world. Everything has a place it belongs."

Nonsense! The world is overflowing with unnecessary garbage.

"You won't be saying that in a moment."

Raon reached into his pack and drew out a flower bud, half red and half blue. It was the Two-Tone Flower he had received from the lord of Seolho Village long ago.

"I have a gift for you."

He held the Two-Tone Flower out and gave it a gentle shake. The Black Butterfly perched on his left hand drifted down onto the unopened petals.

A low, resonant hum. The Black Butterfly pressed its head into the Two-Tone Flower. The petals deepened as if someone had laid on fresh pigment, while the butterfly's black wings paled, the darkness draining out of them into white.

A rush of light. The Black Butterfly's darkness faded, and the Two-Tone Flower's petals flared with a brilliant radiance. The glow born between the two spiritual creatures spilled through the entire room.

When the flickering blue light at last settled, the Black Butterfly's wings had become a field of snow, and the Two-Tone Flower's closed bud had opened, releasing a clear, exquisite fragrance.

W-what is this?! That gluttonous little insect that does nothing but suck down mana—and it made a flower bloom?!

I told you. Nothing is useless.

Raon's smile and the Black Butterfly rose together. The Two-Tone Flower had opened in full, and the butterfly's wingbeats were strong now, nothing like the first time he had seen it.

"You're even more beautiful than before."

He lifted his hand. The Black Butterfly circled the air and settled on the back of it.

"Congratulations on breaking your curse."

The Black Butterfly and the Two-Tone Flower had each carried a different curse. The Black Butterfly could ingest mana but could never digest it. The Two-Tone Flower could not gather mana at all. Those two curses had kept both spiritual creatures at the bottom of the rare grade.

But together, everything changed.

When a Black Butterfly swollen with mana passed that mana to a Two-Tone Flower that could not condense any of its own, both curses came undone. The Black Butterfly, free at last after giving its mana away, and the Two-Tone Flower, blooming in splendor, were a symbiotic pair—complete only in each other's company.

No one else knows this.

Raon himself would never have learned it if the knowledge hadn't been written in the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames.

A soft vibration. As Raon gazed at the Two-Tone Flower's vivid light, the Black Butterfly tickled the back of his hand.

"Alright. I understand. I understand."

Smiling, he opened the window and stretched his hand through it so the Black Butterfly could leave.

A bright little hum. The Black Butterfly rose on lively wings. It circled the building once, then drifted back down and looked at him, slow and deliberate. It folded its wings once, as if in farewell, and departed into the wide sky.

"Live well."

Raon waved, then closed the window. He sat on the floor and looked at the Two-Tone Flower, open in full. Of its four petals, two shone red and two shone blue. It was beautiful ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enough—and fragrant enough—to keep as an ornament.

This is the real thing.

The Two-Tone Flower had held only a trace of fire-attribute and water-attribute mana. Bloomed by the Black Butterfly, it had drawn in a vast quantity of mana, and this—this was its true form.

I can eat it now.

The flower had opened. It was time to make the power in those petals his own.

An elixir was a gathering of nature's energy, but impurities always accumulated as that energy condensed, leaving it less pure than raw natural mana. The Two-Tone Flower was different. It had not bloomed alone. It had been refined once through another spiritual creature's power, and because that power had split into two attributes, the purity of both manas was so high it was barely an exaggeration to call them raw.

An elixir made for me.

Raon cultivated the Ring of Fire. He wielded the aura of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames and of Glacier. No one alive was better suited to absorb the Two-Tone Flower's power.

Well, then.

He tipped the Two-Tone Flower into his mouth as if it were a pill. There was no need to chew. Before its sweet floral scent could even spread across his tongue, the flower melted like sugar and slid down his throat.

Kh…

His stomach burned, then froze, over and over—the sensation of fire and ice being pressed against him in turn. The way it tore through his gut left no doubt. The Two-Tone Flower's power was the real thing.

Raon sat on the floor with a thin smile and spun the Ring of Fire, circulating the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames. Pure, refined energy surged from his aura core and swept through his entire body, and the Two-Tone Flower's rampage in his belly began to settle.

A deep, rolling hum. The scorching aura of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames climbed his mana circuits and began to draw the Two-Tone Flower's power along with it. His shoulders ran hot. His heart ran cold. His forearms felt cool; his thighs felt heavy. Following the current of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, the Two-Tone Flower's energy started to spread through his whole body.

It's genuinely pure.

The dual-attribute energy held in the Two-Tone Flower was as clean as freshly fallen snow. The moment he circulated the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, it clung to the flow like iron to a magnet.

A vast, rising roar. Raon's entire body trembled—not from pain. It was the thrill of the Two-Tone Flower's energy, which had saturated him from head to heel, stacking itself neatly into his aura core. The proof sat on his face: a bright, eager smile.

A heavy pulse. Each time he cycled the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, his aura core and his flesh resonated, and the impurities lodged in his mana circuits like rust began to be expelled.

A long, rushing breath. Feeling the grain of his body and his aura evolve by a full step, Raon sank into a trance.

Raon opened his eyes. Dark-gray lightning flashed through his red irises.

He didn't need to read the messages. The high-purity energy filling his aura core, the widened mana circuits, and the lightness of his body told him everything about the state he was in.

Better than I expected.

He had assumed that even a Two-Tone Flower couldn't be absorbed completely. That had been a serious misjudgment. The flower's purity surpassed even the Ten-Branch Herb. He had taken in nearly all of its energy without wasting a drop.

Every stat had risen, but Energy had climbed the furthest—surging by more than ten points to land at seventy.

At this level, I might be able to fight for half a day.

The Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames aura and the Glacier filling his aura core had grown in proportion to that Energy value. This wasn't just a burst for a short decisive clash. He felt as if he could last a long fight and still have something left.

As I am now, I could beat an Expert High-Class without much trouble.

It wasn't simply that more aura had made him stronger. Sword techniques from the Cultivation of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ten Thousand Flames that he hadn't been able to use for lack of aura were now available to him. Calling himself more than twice as strong as before was no exaggeration. Of course, there were still plenty of techniques he couldn't touch.

That can't be helped.

The swordsmanship of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames demanded enormous quantities of aura. Even with the Ring of Fire purifying what he had, the raw amount was still insufficient.

Which means I need to grow even faster.

There was too much left to do. He had to raise Sylvia into the direct line. He had to save Judiel's younger sibling. He had to take Derus Robert's head. For all of that, he needed to become stronger as quickly as possible—not only in aura, but in body and mind alike.

"Hah."

Raon stood and looked toward the window. He had cultivated from the afternoon straight through the night; the sun would be up before long.

Shall I put it to the test?

He had spent the night in cultivation, yet he wasn't tired in the slightest. To try the changed body and the new inner power, he went looking for an empty lot where no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one would see him.

He loosened up, then drove his foot down in a True Step.

A heavy boom. A footprint stamped itself into the ground, and sand sprayed outward. It was the same True Step as before, but the quality of his inner power had changed, and the sound rolled through the entire lot.

A sharp crack. He chained the force of the stomp through his waist and drew the sword down. The cold dawn air split like a sheet of paper.

A deep, resonant hum. A rich crimson light began to gather along the extended blade. The swordsmanship of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, which had sat closed like a bud, unfurled without restraint.

Bang. Another bang. Every swing hurled out a sword strike like a bolt of lightning—a chain of techniques so vicious that even a qualified swordsman would have been unable to stop it.

A rolling roar. Explosive heat blasted from the flaming blade, and the ground around Raon was gutted as if a shell had landed there.

"Huu…"

Having worked through the Refining Sword Technique, the Mad Fang Sword, and the swordsmanship of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames in turn, Raon let out an eager breath and reset his stance.

This is good.

A satisfied smile touched his mouth. With the impurities flushed out, his body and meridians had improved by another degree. His inner power, his movement, his reactions—all of it was faster.

You really did have to move to know. Reading a message and putting your own body through its paces were worlds apart. Only by using it himself could he feel how much he had changed.

"Alright, then."

Raon looked at the rising sun and tapped his sword.

"Time to go find a blade."