The Price of Contempt
"What kind of wager?"
Edquil's eyebrows shot up. The eagerness on his face was plain—he clearly thought this was his chance to escape porter duty.
"A wager like this, of course."
Raon tapped his scabbard.
"A duel?"
"That's right. We live by the sword. Conversation, wagers—this is all we need, isn't it?"
"You think the world is that simple. Typical of a brat."
Edquil's mouth twisted like a rain-soaked branch.
"You think I'm the same as those monsters? Those mercenaries?!"
"If you're that confident, just take the wager."
He didn't answer right away. He chewed his lip, stalling.
"I have a condition."
"A condition? You're hardly in a position to be making those."
Raon pressed down from the very first word. He knew exactly who held the upper hand.
"We settle this with personal martial prowess alone."
"What do you mean by that?"
"No special weapons. Just the swordsmanship and aura you and I possess."
"Hrm..."
Raon glanced at the Requiem Sword at the small of his back, eyes narrowing.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Showing off the Requiem Sword when he killed the Ice Troll Shaman had paid off exactly as planned. Just as he'd expected, Edquil seemed to believe it was the sword's special power—not Raon's own strength—that had dropped the shaman in a single blow.
"Fine."
Raon nodded evenly, hiding the smile that threatened to surface.
"So what's the extra stake you're adding?"
"Simple. You become scouts."
"Huh? What?"
"Quit playing swordsman and try being bottom-rung scouts. About three months should do it."
Self-centered, arrogant types like Edquil and the Snow Strike Squad never came to their senses until they walked a mile in someone else's boots. Even if they got thrown out of Habun Castle, Raon wanted them to understand exactly what they'd done before they left.
"Have you lost your mind?"
Edquil jabbed a finger at Radin and the scouts, shouting.
"They're trash who can't even use aura! Why the hell do you care about those people?! And there's no way the Commander would ever allow a condition like this!"
"Ghh..."
"Ugh..."
The scouts bit their lips in fury, but Edquil's murderous presence kept their mouths shut.
"Is that so."
Raon's eyes froze over, colder than the glaciers of the North Sea.
"You..."
"Edquil."
Raon was about to let the words welling up inside him spill out when Terian stepped forward.
"I thought you knew where to draw the line. Apparently you don't."
His face crumpled like rotting bark as he planted himself in front of Edquil.
"V-Vice Commander."
"I never imagined you'd think of the comrades who fight beside you as insects. As trash."
"No, that's not—"
"Shut your mouth, Edquil. I'm holding back the urge to take your head right here."
Terian forced Edquil back, then turned to look at Raon.
"I authorize it. I'll serve as witness to your duel."
"V-Vice Commander!"
"Weakness doesn't matter. You can make people stronger. But I have no intention of leaving trash who think of the comrades they should trust with their backs that way."
"If all of us become scouts, Habun Castle will have all kinds of problems! The castle could fall!"
"If this castle would fall without the likes of you, it would have fallen a long time ago. Don't overestimate yourself, Edquil."
"Ghh..."
Edquil's lips trembled.
"That said, I won't put everyone here at risk over your duel."
Terian narrowed his eyes and pointed down the mountain.
"The duel starts once we reach a safe location."
The Habun Castle forces gathered the heads of the Ice Troll Warrior and Shaman—their trophies—and left Sterin Mountain.
The moment they reached a safe area, Raon and Edquil dropped their packs as if they'd agreed on it in advance and began warming up. The scout unit and the Snow Strike Squad cleared the surrounding area so the two could duel. A makeshift sparring ground took shape, and Raon and Edquil faced each other.
"This is your last chance."
Edquil drew the sword at his hip, baring his teeth.
"If you back down now, I'll drop it too."
"The fact that you're even saying that means you're nervous."
"You little—!"
"Step back. I'll confirm the terms one more time before we begin."
Terian stood between them and turned first to Raon.
"If you win, the entire Snow Strike Squad becomes scout rookies for three months. Correct?"
"That, and they take on all the scouts' baggage and menial work until we check the North Sea and return."
"Good. Edquil."
Terian's gaze shifted to Edquil.
"Yes."
"If you win, the porter duty from the previous wager is lifted. Correct?"
"That's right, but I'm at too much of a disadvantage."
"What?"
"Let me add one more stake!"
"What do you want?"
Raon tilted his chin, a smile playing on his lips.
"That dagger. If I win, you hand it over."
Edquil's gaze on the Requiem Sword was steeped in greed. Even now, lusting after an object—he was a thoroughly wretched man.
"Fine."
The Requiem Sword keened, but Raon stroked the scabbard to soothe it.
Relax. I couldn't lose even if I wanted to.
He'd already mapped the flow of Edquil's swordsmanship from watching him fight the trolls. The man was strong, no question—but Raon felt no possibility of losing.
"To be staked as a wager's prize—how perfectly fitting for a mere trinket."
Wrath snickered, mocking the Requiem Sword, utterly unaware that his own flower bracelet hadn't drawn so much as a glance of interest.
"You know, I've never once used my true power."
Crimson energy surged in streams over Edquil's shoulders. Whether he'd truly never used his full strength or not, the aura blazing off him now was far more intense than when he'd faced the trolls.
"Wow. How impressive."
Raon clicked his tongue, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Killing is forbidden. Begin!"
Terian announced the start of the duel and stepped back.
"KRAAAAAH!"
Edquil let out a roar that could have belonged to a troll and charged, bringing his sword down packed with a massive amount of aura.
A thunderous crash rang out. Raon blocked it cleanly, yet the blade still shuddered. For all Edquil's petty nature, this was a thoroughly honed Hard Sword.
"I'll have you crawling on the ground without landing a single hit!"
Unwilling to let his opening slip, Edquil poured out crushing pressure as he swung. The wind pressure and shockwaves were vicious enough to tear at their winter gear and armor.
"Save the scouts? Make me a scout? Talentless trash like that is everywhere you go. What are they to you that you'd care this much?!"
The energy coating Edquil's blade grew denser. Strands of sword aura gathered into a thick line—the higher realm of sword aura. Sword Force.
Every clash of steel sent the impact rattling into the bone. The blows were powerful, but the eyes of the man blocking them only grew calmer.
"I came to Habun Castle expecting two things."
Raon weathered the rain of strikes, his mouth twisting.
"The first was the belief that I'd grow stronger through a brutal battlefield. The second was trust."
"Trust?"
At that word, a faint light kindled in the eyes of everyone watching.
"I expected the people on the inside to stand together in trust and faith against the powerful enemies outside."
Because it was something he'd never experienced. He'd come here picturing the future the Fifth Training Ground might reach, given enough time.
"But that wasn't it. You ranked people by status, argued over power, divided them by class. Even the mercenaries here on a temporary contract looked at people as people. You treated your comrades like servants."
Raon's sword erupted with a cry like a beast's roar.
"You asked me earlier why I care about the scouts. I wasn't thinking of scouts. I was thinking of people."
The leash snapped. A savage presence flooded the space, wild and unrestrained as a beast loosed upon the world.
"Price, my ass!"
Edquil ground his teeth. He had no idea what kind of lunatic he'd gotten stuck with, or why he was suffering through this. But the fight had already started. He had to win.
I can break him!
Just as he'd expected, once Raon set down that dagger dripping with ominous energy, his martial power dropped off sharply. A lifetime of Kator Swordsmanship would punch through that stubborn defense and put the brat on his knees.
"KRAAAH!"
Edquil unleashed the latter five forms of Kator Swordsmanship in rapid succession. A silver blade shredded the cold air as it drove Raon back. Crash after crash rang out as Raon took the overwhelming blows—and still came forward, resetting his grip as if he meant to attack, not defend.
"My turn."
Raon's sword surged up, savage and raw, and Edquil's eyes were laid bare. Crimson irises like a moon hung in the sky, unwavering, that eerie light raising gooseflesh along Edquil's arms.
"Ghh!"
Edquil brought his tightly clenched sword down on a diagonal—the sixth form, packed with the power to shatter an opponent's blade. Terrifying force coiled along the edge, ready to swallow the space whole, when Raon's wrist turned. His sword flashed like a streak of light and smashed into the face of Edquil's blade.
A ringing, bone-deep clang. The blade flexed as if it might warp, and Edquil was driven sideways. The aura he'd poured in at full strength had vanished somewhere along the way.
"Ghk—you! What did you just—!"
Edquil's mustache trembled.
"A Hard Sword that twists its trajectory."
Raon looked down at him with cold eyes.
"I've mapped your entire swordsmanship."
"Bullshit!"
Edquil screamed and charged, firing off Kator Swordsmanship's seventh, eighth, and ninth forms without so much as a breath between them. The blows shook the air itself as they went for Raon's throat—and Raon's hand raced to meet them.
Another ringing crash. The sawtoothed rotation of Edquil's strikes was flung aside once more.
"H-how..."
Edquil swallowed dryly. His aura had been stronger. He'd been faster. Being pushed back anyway was something he couldn't believe.
"This doesn't make sense! It doesn't make any sense!"
He stamped the ground and drove in from Raon's right, sweeping his sword up from below toward the chest—the tenth form, the fastest of them all. Once again the strike was broken before it even touched Raon's body.
And then—
A sickening thud, like a ball bursting, and a dizzying pain exploded through Edquil's waist.
"GAAAH!"
Edquil clutched his side and staggered back.
"Wh-what was that?!"
"I told you. My turn."
Raon smiled faintly and spun his sword.
"Try to block what's coming."
He kicked off the ground and came in like a wolf.
"Hup!"
Edquil slammed down the eleventh form of Kator Swordsmanship at the figure closing from the front. A Hard Sword that could reduce boulders to powder swept the air—and still Raon came on, unshaken even by a form he'd never seen. A raw, frameless swing drove Edquil's blade back without mercy.
Clang after clang. Raon didn't let the opening go. He poured out savage, beast-like strikes, a downpour of crimson aura so thick Edquil couldn't breathe.
"Kh—!"
He clenched his teeth and tried to hold with everything he had, but Raon's sword hunted only the weak points. The brat was a ghost.
A final ringing crash, and Edquil's sword was forced aside. Raon stepped in and drove a fist into his gut.
Edquil's body folded at a right angle. His eyes bulged as if they might pop from his skull.
"Ghhhk!"
"We're not done."
Raon sent a sword strike at Edquil before the man could even find his stance. Edquil scrambled back into a guard, but Raon's blade was not something a sloppy defense could stop.
Boom. Crash. A thunderous detonation. Edquil went tumbling across the ground like a scrap of paper in the wind.
"Y-you really—hhk!"
He barely made it to his feet before an even more violent stretch of swordsmanship came crashing in. It felt like being trapped alone inside a sandstorm.
"GAAAAH!"
The scream Edquil had been holding back tore out of him.
What the hell is this kid?!
If he'd truly mapped the swordsmanship, then every form of Kator Swordsmanship had been dismantled. It was like living a nightmare.
A slip of thought, and his blade twisted. Raon's sword slid into the gap like a snake.
A brutal crack. Mind-blanking pain exploded through Edquil's left thigh. The bone didn't even seem broken—he couldn't understand how it could hurt this much.
"Aaagh..."
Edquil dragged the leg that wouldn't move and tried to fall back. Raon had no intention of letting him go. He stuck to him like a shadow and brought his sword down.
Every time their blades met, Edquil's heart clenched. His teeth chattered with a terror that went beyond pain. He wanted to quit—but the stakes, and the audience, were far too many.
"UAAAAAH!"
Edquil detonated his aura and seized the sword in both hands. He dragged up every last shred of power he had, raised the blade to pierce the sky, and brought it down.
The final form of Kator Swordsmanship—a descending strike meant to shatter the moon itself.
A crimson line traced itself along Raon's blade. Threads that had been tangled like a snarl of yarn unfurled in a single instant, pouring out a red light like a sunset.
The moment that fierce radiance met Moon Crusher, the technique collapsed. The blade cracked apart.
"Ghk!"
Edquil's grip tore open. His sword flew and buried itself in the frozen earth.
"Ah..."
His jaw trembled as he looked ahead. Raon stood in the same place, unchanged from the start.
"I—I lost—hup!"
He was about to concede when Raon covered his mouth.
"There's no way to know what someone thinks on the inside. But..."
He took another step closer, smiling coldly.
"The moment those words leave your mouth, you take responsibility for them. Talking down the comrades who fought beside you with their lives on the line—even a rookie like me could see that was wrong."
"Wait! I lost—khurk!"
Raon's clenched fist smashed into Edquil's face. With a sound like a stone cracking, Edquil's teeth popped out like kernels of corn. His eyes went slack. He turned his head in a daze, then toppled over backward.
Raon walked toward the Snow Strike Squad with a sword that gleamed with a chilling light.
"If anyone has a complaint, I'll take it. Step up. Now."
The words slid over their shoulders like a sheet of ice. The Snow Strike Squad shuddered. Their eyes were locked on Edquil, blood running from his mouth in a steady stream, and of course not a single person came forward.
"It is just as This King foresaw."
Wrath looked at the unconscious Edquil and snorted a laugh.
Raon woke Edquil. The man came around quickly enough, but pain and terror had him so crushed he couldn't even look at where he was. Having his Hard Sword shattered by the Mad Fang Sword, then watching blade and aura get cut apart by the swordsmanship of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, seemed to have left him deeply shaken.
"Vice Commander."
Leaving the trembling Edquil behind, Raon approached Terian.
"Ah. Right."
Terian turned his head. He clearly hadn't expected such a one-sided victory—his own eyes were shaking badly.
"Are you certain this is all right?"
"A wager is a wager. Of course it has to be kept. When people like that poison the atmosphere from the inside, discipline is the first thing to sink. Habun Castle isn't going to fall just because the Snow Strike Squad is doing scout work, so don't worry about it."
"Understood."
"Listen up."
Terian stepped up onto the makeshift sparring ground and gathered every gaze.
"The duel is over. Raon wins. As promised, the Snow Strike Squad is hereby demoted to the position of scout recruits. Everyone agreed to the terms, so I assume there are no complaints?"
The Snow Strike Squad looked full of complaints, but when Raon glared they flinched and all turned their heads away.
"Oh, so that makes you our juniors! Right?"
Dorian stood up with a sly grin. He walked over to the Snow Strike Squad, who looked as if a cloud of gloom had settled on them, and pulled from his Belly Pouch every pack they'd handed over—along with all the scouts' baggage—and held it out.
"This is the luggage you'll be carrying from now on. Juniors."
"Urgh..."
"Damn it!"
The Snow Strike Squad ground their teeth at the pile of packs stacked in front of them.
"Ah, one more thing."
Dorian snickered and pulled four long logs from his Belly Pouch.
"Wh-what is that?"
"Logs?"
"W-why are logs coming out of there?"
It wasn't just the Snow Strike Squad. Everyone present stared at the logs with their eyes wide.
"Everyone carries logs around. For rafts, or building a shelter, you know."
Dorian shrugged.
No. They don't.
Raon shook his head before he could stop himself.
"Anyway."
Dorian's eyes settled into a rare, cold stillness.
"Carry them carefully, juniors. If you put a scratch on my wood, you'd better be ready to die."
He handed the Snow Strike Squad the exact words they'd once thrown at the scouts, then walked back with a thoroughly refreshed look on his face.
"Ah, that feels good!"
"You look happy."
"Happy? I held back. I was originally going to pull out a boulder."
Dorian muttered that he'd gone easy on them and snorted.
There's a boulder in there?
"There's a boulder in there too?"