The Cave Meant to Break Him

Word of how Raon had smashed the Heavy Martial Palace's training equipment, beaten its warriors into the dirt with nothing but raw strength, and finally toppled even Horaine, vice commander of the Battle Thunder Squad, regrettably never spread.

Everyone who had witnessed that staggering spectacle belonged to the Heavy Martial Palace. Why would they spit in their own faces?

Chief Administrator Urek and training instructor Leff had clamped down on the story besides, and so those astonishing events sank quietly beneath the training grounds of the Heavy Martial Palace.

But secrets never stay buried forever.

Every secret the Heavy Martial Palace had wanted to hide was about to spill from a single person in a shabby tavern in southern Zieghart. Or rather, from a single elf whose mouth was as light as a feather.

"Ah, this is a secret, though. I really shouldn't say anything…"

Rimer scratched at his red hair and smacked his lips.

"You've been dragging this out forever—what secret?!"

"It's been thirty minutes! Just spit it out already!"

"How long are you going to stall? What did Raon do?!"

"The curiosity's gonna kill us!"

The people in the tavern shouted at the hesitating Rimer and threw their cups. He had kept promising to tell them the secret and then stalling, and their irritation had climbed all the way to the top of their heads.

"Talk before we bury you!"

"I can't take this anymore!"

"Rimer!"

"That's enough already!"

Every last person in that wide tavern had their eyes locked on Rimer's mouth, forks and knives in hand. There was even a swordsman with his hand on his waist, looking ready to draw.

"Ah, I guess I don't have a choice. I'm only telling you because it's you lot. If this gets out anywhere—absolutely, absolutely not."

Rimer recited the classic line of someone who had no intention of keeping a secret, sweeping his gaze over the people holding their drinks.

"We got it! We'll spread it properly, so just talk!"

"Right. What kind of mess did Raon cause this time?!"

"Aah, this elf is a bigger bastard than any human, I swear!"

"Hmmm!"

He tipped his head as if savoring their stares, then drained his beer in one long, refreshing gulp.

"Then let's begin. My 'dear disciple' Raon—who inherited every last one of this Rimer's magnificent qualities—started his training at the Heavy Martial Palace. And while he was there…"

Rimer told them how Raon had not merely kept up with the Heavy Martial Palace's training but overwhelmed it, and how he had beaten every last one of its swordsmen into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the ground with nothing but strength.

"Here's the highlight. When Raon hit five wins in a row, guess who showed up? Horaine, vice commander of the Battle Thunder Squad. That genius brat asked for a spar, and my 'dear disciple' Raon accepted. Meaning two people they call geniuses went at it for real. At first it was a duel of pure swordsmanship, no aura, and Raon crushed Horaine and took the win."

"Woooooo!"

"Hah—!"

"F-for real?"

"Raon beat Horaine?"

The people in the tavern dropped their cups and cutlery in shock at the news that Raon had defeated Horaine.

"But that's not all. Horaine admitted the loss, and they agreed to a rematch using aura. My 'dear disciple' Raon took that one coolly too, and round two began. Raon ran flame aura, Horaine ran frost aura, and they kicked off the ground at the same time!"

"S-so then!"

"Who won?!"

"Just say it!"

"Rimer! I think I'm actually gonna die!"

"Ahem! Khem!"

Rimer didn't speak. He pressed on his Adam's apple and coughed dryly instead.

"Ah, my throat's a bit parched. I really ought to finish before I lose my voice, but it's so dry…"

"Aah! Innkeeper, five beers for that damned elf over there!"

"And I'm a little hungry, too…"

"I'll cover the food! Order everything on the menu!"

"I don't even have gambling money today…"

"Shut up and take my coin!"

When the story stopped dead at the highlight, the furious crowd hurled silver coins at Rimer.

"The chivalry of this continent isn't dead after all! Thank you, everyone!"

Rimer pretended to wipe away tears as he scooped the raining silver into his pocket.

"Think of this money as an investment in my jackpot future…"

"Ah, enough—just keep talking already!"

"The suspense is killing us!"

"Keep going! Keep going! Keep going!"

"I, uh, I don't know what that chant means, but alright."

Sensing that if he stalled any longer he might actually die, Rimer picked the story back up.

"Raon and Horaine clashed head-on. As you all know, Horaine's swordsmanship is the Changing Sword and the Phantom Sword. And Raon took those techniques and…"

He laid out the two men's battle with such vivid, you-are-there energy that the people in the tavern felt as if they were standing on that sparring ground themselves.

"Hhk—!"

"Hahh…"

"Insane. That's insane!"

Everyone cried out at once at the fact that Raon had broken Horaine's blade with a swordsmanship of fluttering flame-blossoms.

"He took down a vice-commander who was going all-out… at seventeen?"

"I had a feeling ever since the rumors started circulating, but that kid is a monster."

"I'll regret not seeing that duel with my own eyes until the day I die. A storm of flowers made of flame…"

Even the people who had looked uninterested drifted over, and the whole tavern buzzed with talk of Raon's martial power and his swordsmanship. Before long, Raon's name was spilling from every mouth.

"Heh heh."

Rimer slipped out of that noisy place, counting the silver in his coat, and grinned.

"Now that's what you call a win-win."

Raon spread his name. He made money. Two birds with one stone.

Putting his worst qualities as a master on full display yet again, he headed for the gambling den.

"Today reeks of a jackpot!"

"Damn it!"

Raon kept walking deeper into the cave, Wrath throwing a fit the whole way.

"You imbecile! Those bastards aren't fools—you think they'd send you into the cave that actually holds their ancestor's legacy?!"

Wrath swept his gaze along the cave walls, his face twisting.

"The cave that ancestor of theirs actually entered is somewhere else. This place is meaningless—nothing but hardship, that's certain."

That might be true.

Raon nodded. Judging by the fact that Leff had sent him into Cave One, the founding lord of the Heavy Martial Palace's legacy would not be here.

But even if it was a fake, if the training was hard enough, the system's power would still hand him a sufficient reward.

"This is a waste of time. No—a waste of This King's stomach! Two weeks of eating that wretched Nadin Bread?! This King would rather die right here!"

Wrath flopped onto the floor and kicked his legs, throwing a tantrum like a child dragged to the market after his mother.

It's not a waste for me, so it's fine. Whatever's in there, that excellent system you created will hand out plenty of rewards.

"Kkngh…"

Wrath understood the meaning of those words better than anyone, and he ground his teeth.

"Keep acting that arrogant and someday that nose of yours will get shoved in the dirt!"

Ah, that's fine too. My nose is pretty high as it is.

Raon smiled and casually stroked the bridge of his nose.

"Gyaaaaah! That's not what This King meant!"

Wrath stretched his hands out as if he were about to lunge, but having just poured stats into Raon, he didn't actually attack.

Let's go in first and talk after.

"There's no need to go in! The inside is all warped!"

Warped?

Raon asked back, but Wrath seemed to be sulking; he turned his head away and didn't answer. Figuring he would know once he saw it, Raon kept walking deeper in.

The cave was longer than expected. It took nearly ten minutes of walking before he reached the end.

Orange light from a small Luminescent Stone lit a cramped, uneven space.

The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in strange scars, as if a thick greatsword had been thrust into them. They looked like a child's scribbles, and yet they felt strangely familiar.

From the moment he entered this space, though, his breath caught in his throat and his stomach lurched, and he had no leisure to examine the traces on the walls in detail.

The flow of mana here was twisted to a bizarre degree.

"So I wasn't imagining it."

Raon bit his lip. He had thought the movement of mana grew stranger the farther he went in, and this distortion was the reason.

"That warping you mentioned earlier—was it the mana being twisted?"

"It was. It seems beings of great power clashed in this place long ago. The flow of mana is coiled around itself like rose vines."

Wrath nodded, sweeping his gaze across the floor and ceiling.

"A human body follows the flow of mana that spreads through nature. But the mana here moves however it pleases—just like your personality."

Frost bloomed from Wrath's hands and whirled about at random, as if riding a wind that had no direction.

"For a human with uselessly sharp senses like yours, just being here will be agony."

"You're right. The headache and dizziness are getting worse."

Raon steadied his breathing and nodded. Just as Wrath had said, the world spun simply from standing here. His stomach churned as if he were riding a pitching boat, and his breath caught as though a boulder were pressing down on his heart.

"Those bastards really do seem to hate you. To dump you in a place where you can't even train properly."

Can't train?

"The mana flow is so tangled that if you try aura cultivation, or use aura to fuel swordsmanship, your mana circuits will twist and you'll take internal injuries."

Wrath wagged a finger from side to side as if to say it was out of the question.

"With senses as sharp as yours, you won't even be able to endure this place, let alone train. There's nothing to gain anyway, so get out now. And throw away that rubbery bread this instant!"

"Hrm."

Raon ignored Wrath's fierce advice and closed his eyes.

It's affecting my mana circuits too, that's certain.

It wasn't just his head that hurt. The mana he drew in with each breath had begun to make his mana circuits and aura core tremble, little by little.

They told me to sleep less and sharpen my mind—well, like this, it'd be sharp whether I wanted it to or not.

With his head throbbing and his aura core and mana circuits lurching, his nerves would be so raw he wouldn't be able to sleep properly anyway.

"That's why This King is telling you to get out already."

No.

"You stubborn brat! A world of gourmet cuisine awaits us, so why are you throwing a tantrum?!"

Burren's enduring this too. I can't be the first one out.

"You fool. You're the only one suffering like this."

What?

"The other caves have some mana distortion too, but nothing like this. Just a faint queasiness, unlike here. That round-eyed brat is probably sitting there with a mild headache, thinking this is boring."

Wrath said he had already checked, and frowned.

"So that's why."

Raon glanced back and let out a short laugh. This must have been the reason Leff had blocked the path and sent him into Cave One first.

"If I couldn't take it and came out, he was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going to mock me for not even lasting that, then send me to a different cave."

Revenge, it seemed, for the many ways Raon had humiliated the Heavy Martial Palace. A truly petty, sniveling method.

Burren probably didn't know either.

Judging by the way Burren had said the training here wouldn't be of much use, he likely hadn't known that Cave One's mana flow was twisted far worse than the others.

Burren, who couldn't stand unfairness, would never have stayed quiet if he had known.

"Now that you know, get out. Enduring this place is impossible."

I said no.

"This King explained it so kindly, and you still mean to endure it? Eating nothing but that flavorless bread?"

Wrath hated the prospect of eating Nadin Bread even more than the twisted mana.

"You insane bread-obsessed lunatic!"

Raon ignored Wrath's outburst and sat down on the floor.

I can't use the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames or Glacia for now.

The mana flow was tangled, so using energy biased toward a single attribute would immediately wreck his body.

But the Ring of Fire should work.

The Ring of Fire only had "fire" in the name—it was an ancient cultivation art that followed the natural flow of the world as it was. With that purity, it should be able to refine even mana this tangled.

Raon closed his eyes and set the Ring of Fire turning.

It's working, as expected.

He couldn't control the mana outside, but the warped mana and circuits inside his body began to stabilize.

Let's do this properly.

He wanted to see the look of shock on their faces.

Feeling the beat of his heart echo through the cave, Raon sank into a state of deep concentration.

After sending Raon and Burren into the caves, Leff did not leave. He stood in front of the entrance with a chilly smile.

"You sent them both in?"

At the low voice from behind, Leff's head turned. Chief Administrator Urek was approaching, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hm? Don't tell me you sent that brat into Cave One?"

Urek narrowed his eyes at the open mouth of Cave One.

"My apologies. I couldn't hold back."

Leff bit his lip as he looked at Urek.

"I just had to see that arrogant brat humiliated."

Cave One had nothing to do with the founding lord of the Heavy Martial Palace. It was simply a cave whose mana distortion was extraordinarily severe.

It had originally been sealed, but Leff had undone the seal and shoved that brat inside because he wanted to watch him squirm.

"…I understand."

Urek nodded slowly. His own anger toward Raon had not gone out, so he understood Leff's feelings well enough.

"He just went in?"

"Yes."

"Then he'll be out within an hour."

The mana tangle generated in Cave One was harder to endure the stronger the warrior. Even Expert Mid-Class warriors couldn't last a full three hours, so that brat would come crawling out before a single hour was up.

"I was worried Lord Burren might catch on, but fortunately he didn't seem to know."

"Of course he wouldn't. This would have been his first time here as well."

Urek nodded, looking toward Cave Five, where Burren had gone. This place was only accessible after obtaining a swordsman's qualifications, so Burren wouldn't have known either.

"And when that brat can't take it and comes bursting out, you were planning to shame him to your heart's content."

Urek nodded as if he had read Leff's intentions down to the last one.

"That's right. I don't think I'll sleep until I see that damned brat's face crumple."

Leff muttered that he had been losing sleep for days, and clenched his fist.

"I'm curious about that expression myself. I think I'll stay and watch."

The two of them stood in front of the cave, smiling coldly as they waited for Raon to come out.

But Raon did not emerge in the hour they had predicted. He did not emerge even after two days had passed.

"Tsk…"

Wrath clicked his tongue at length and climbed up onto the bracelet. Two days had gone by, and Raon was still sitting in the same spot without so much as a twitch.

"Hey."

He tapped Raon's shoulder. Not a hint of a reaction. Raon sat with his eyes closed like a doll, unmoving.

"Raon Zieghart!"

Calling that weasel by name changed nothing. He breathed so slowly it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was enough to make one think he was dead, and simply kept cultivating.

"The mana is growing more stable…"

Wrath examined Raon's interior, narrowing his eyes. The inside of that brat was far calmer than it had been two days ago. It was as if a tidal wave that had surged to the heavens had become the shallow surf along a shoreline.

"The Ring of Fire…"

It was not enough that the art held back This King's wrath. Watching it take in even this warped mana and purify it, Wrath could only conclude ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that the Ring of Fire was a martial art that transcended the bounds of humanity.

"Fine. The Ring of Fire is impressive. The stabilization is impressive. But…"

Wrath ground his teeth as he looked at Raon.

"This King hasn't eaten a single thing in two days!"

The one joy left to him since taking root in Raon—meals—had been completely cut off for these two days. He was at the point of wanting to chew even that bread that tasted like rubber.

"You damned brat! Even that tasteless bread would do—just eat something, please!"

Wrath smacked Raon's shoulder and howled.

"This King cannot live without eating anymore!"

……

His concentration broken for a moment by that scream, Raon became certain of one thing.

Monarch of Wrath, my ass.

Wrath was clearly a Demon King of Gluttony who had faked his resume and gotten hired as Wrath.