A Flood of Offers
"Squad Leader Iond."
Raon stood unflinching before a Squad Leader of House Zieghart — a powerhouse who had ascended to the Master realm long ago. Not a trace of intimidation touched him as he met Iond's gaze head-on.
"If you want me in the White Lotus Squad, then come back with a clear accounting of the squad's primary duties — what I would learn there, and what I stand to gain."
"Hah..."
Iond's eyes wavered once more. A Master was a martial artist whose body and mind had both been tempered to the extreme. Shifts in expression like that were rare — he truly seemed caught off guard.
Not that it was surprising.
I'm the one holding the reins right now.
As Burren had said, the training period was over. Organizations across the house could now extend recruitment offers to the newly minted swordsmen. Iond had come in person the moment that training ended, specifically to recruit him. A man like that wouldn't back down after a single refusal.
"You're bolder than I'd heard."
Iond's expression settled for the first time. It wasn't just his face — his mind seemed to have found its footing as well. He hadn't reached such a high realm for nothing.
"I'm not being bold. I simply said what needed to be said."
"Fair enough. I did come here half-prepared."
He lifted the corner of his mouth slightly and nodded. The way he conceded so readily suggested that, despite that iron-hard face, his temperament was surprisingly straightforward.
"That said, I want you. And I mean it."
Iond's pupils flashed a vivid blue.
"Outstanding martial prowess. Loyalty to your comrades. A will that doesn't break even before the strong. And the sheer guts to pull off something completely insane in broad daylight. I like all of it."
His genuine intent rolled outward as pressure, a weight that pressed against the air itself.
"I've sat through countless Selection Ceremonies, but this is the first time I've ever come in person. I'll say it again."
Iond extended his hand once more. Those straight-stretched fingers looked as if they would tear open a road ahead of him if they had to.
"Wh-what? The White Lotus Squad Leader is recruiting him in person?"
"I've never seen a Squad Leader step forward like this."
"Raon Zieghart..."
The swordsmen on the adjacent path looked back and forth between Raon and Iond, their mouths hanging open.
"I'm sorry, but I can't make a decision here and now."
Iond had been sincere, so this time Raon offered a proper refusal.
"You know your own worth well. Planning to hear the other offers too, then?"
Iond let his presence fade and gave a short laugh.
"That's right. While I have the advantage, I intend to get everything I can out of it."
"If it were anyone else, I'd smash that mouth of yours. Coming from a newly graduated swordsman at Expert Peak-Class, though, that's actually modest. Fine. I'll come back properly prepared."
With that, he turned on his heel — and vanished from the spot as if he had never been there at all. A movement technique that the senses could still register, but the eyes could not follow. Master-level martial power, through and through.
Nngh...
Wrath stared at the place Iond had disappeared and wrinkled his face into a scowl.
"Don't you dare get cocky just because that man showed you a little favor. When This King still resided in the Demon Realm, tens of thousands of demons came every year bearing tribute and swearing their loyalty. Compared to This King, your level is..."
Yeah, yeah. You're amazing.
"Listen properly when This King speaks! Hearing of This King's days in the Demon Realm is a fortuitous encounter in itself..."
Sure it is.
Raon let Wrath's words slide in one ear and out the other, as always, and hurried his steps toward the Annex.
This smell...
The moment he arrived at the Annex, a fragrant aroma of cooking drifted out to meet him.
Ohh!
Wrath seized the Annex door, his hands trembling.
"A-apple meat pie and pineapple pizza! And the air is thick with the scents of dishes This King has never even tasted!"
The creature who had been rambling endlessly about the Demon Realm snapped his mouth shut and started snuffling at the air instead.
They must have prepared this in advance.
Sylvia and the maids had clearly known today was the last day of training, and had put together a feast.
"R-Raon, hurry! Get inside already!"
Good grief.
A Demon King who lost his mind at the mere smell of food. It was so embarrassing Raon wasn't sure he could ever admit they traveled together.
He shook his head and opened the door.
"Ah! Young master!"
"My lady! The young master is home!"
"Raon!"
"Young master Raon!"
Sylvia, Helen, and the maids who had been scattered throughout the house came rushing out and gathered in the entryway. Even Yua, who had been in the kitchen, beamed and waved.
"I'm home."
Raon met each of their eyes and smiled.
Raon stepped out of a quick shower to find an astonishing spread of dishes laid out before him. Plenty of familiar favorites were there, but a considerable number of dishes he'd never seen before sat among them as well.
"This new one is something Helen and Yua made together."
Sylvia pointed to the pot at the center of the table. Meat, seafood, and vegetables had been simmered to savory perfection over a bed of fried rice.
"This one too. It's a soup of tomato, beef, and chicken — and it's really delicious."
This time she indicated a broad bowl of crimson soup.
"And this one..."
She introduced them one by one: a pizza topped with lobster, ham dried until it was crisp and laid in long strips across bread, a clear stew studded with shrimp.
"Yua had a hand in every single one of these."
Sylvia caught Yua by the shoulder and pulled her close.
"Yua. Have you been well?"
"Yes! There's so much I can do here — it's been fun!"
Yua nodded, her twintails bouncing. A faint shadow lingered in her eyes — the ache of having left her grandfather behind — but the joy was no less genuine. Sylvia and the maids seemed to have treated her like a little sister, or a daughter.
"How is our Yua this adorable? I just can't stand it!"
Sylvia spread her arms and scooped Yua into a tight hug.
"She cooks well, she sings well, and she's cute on top of it! There's nothing she can't do!"
She nuzzled her cheek against Yua's as she said it.
She's really been putting her through it.
Raon watched the two of them and smiled faintly. That was what Sylvia did when she was in a good mood. Seeing the two of them getting along so well, a smile came of its own accord.
Guhhhh! Raon.
He was still smiling at Yua, Sylvia, and the maids when Wrath let out a dying groan. Looking down, Raon found the Demon King trembling from head to toe as if stricken with a mortal illness, frost dripping steadily from his mouth.
"Wh-what are you doing? The food is dying! Take up your weapon at once!"
Telling me to eat before it gets cold doesn't need to sound that violent.
The food had been on the table for less than a minute. The exaggeration was extreme even by Wrath's standards.
"Raon. You did well on the training."
Sylvia ladled out a bowl of tomato soup and smiled brightly as she offered it.
"Yeah. Uh — Mom?"
He reached to take the bowl, but she didn't let go of it.
"But why do you keep doing dangerous things? I heard you tore through the entire Heavy Martial Palace!"
"Well, that's..."
"I know you think things through, and I know you're strong. But it was the Heavy Martial Palace. I couldn't help but worry."
"She's right, young master. None of us slept properly, you know."
Sylvia's brows drew down slightly. The maids all nodded in agreement.
That's only natural, I suppose.
Karun had never treated Sylvia or Raon as people. Worrying that he might try to kill them — or at least hurt them badly — was only reasonable.
"I always leave myself a way out before I move. Don't worry too much."
Raon wove the energy of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames into his voice, letting it settle over all of them like a balm.
"I know you're wise. But your uncle Karun is not a patient man. Avoid clashing with him if you can."
"I will."
"You always say that so easily."
Sylvia let out a faint sigh and finally handed him the soup.
"That's quite enough. Hurry, hurry..."
Wrath looked genuinely on the verge of withering away. The way he gestured for Raon to eat was indistinguishable from a reaper beckoning the dead.
Relentless.
Raon sighed and picked up his spoon. He was just about to start with the soup Sylvia had served him when a knock sounded at the front door.
"I'll get it."
Judiel, seated at the far end of the table, left the dining room. She was back in less than ten seconds, her face pale, calling for Raon.
"Y-young master. You have a visitor."
"A visitor?"
"Yes. I think you should come to the door yourself..."
"Understood."
Raon nodded and stood.
Who could it be, to put that look on her face?
"I'll kill whoever's interrupting! I don't care who it is!"
Accompanied by a Wrath radiating more fury than Raon had ever felt from him, he headed for the entrance.
A young woman stood in the Annex doorway, her presence bright enough to light the darkened entry all on her own.
"This wench?! This King shall freeze her on the spot!"
Raon forcibly shoved Wrath — who was already gathering frost — back into the bracelet, and studied the woman.
Her hair burned a vivid red, and her eyes were a transparent blue, clear as a lake. Her features were striking enough that anyone who saw her once would never forget her — but it wasn't her beauty Raon was looking at.
She's strong.
A vast, bottomless aura coiled around her entire body. Master. She didn't fall short of Iond, whom he'd just met — no, she seemed to have reached a realm beyond even that.
"I've been watching you since the trainee entrance exam."
Her voice was as clear as her gaze. She closed her eyes slowly, opened them again, and continued.
"A mind that stays cold in any situation. The wit to turn circumstances to your advantage. And a genius for martial arts that surpasses all of it. I was taken with you."
She extended a long, pale hand.
Raon narrowed his eyes as he met her blue gaze.
"The Hollow Sword Squad Leader herself, coming in person..."
"Th-this isn't a dream, right?"
"She's one of the highest-ranking Squad Leaders in the house..."
"Y-young master!"
The maids behind him swallowed hard the moment they heard who she was.
Serena Calvin...
He knew the name. Neither a direct descendant nor a collateral one — a woman from a vassal family who had declared she would become the Head of House Zieghart. A martial artist said to be as cold as a sheet of ice and as fierce as a blaze.
So she wants me too.
Like Iond, Serena had come at this hour because she wanted him in her combat division.
"The martial organizations of House Zieghart discriminate against anyone who isn't a direct descendant or a top-tier collateral. But the Hollow Sword Squad, under my command, is different. We evaluate by skill and by results. It would be the finest home you could ask for."
"Discrimination..."
He had heard that the lower-ranking collaterals were treated poorly in their squads, regardless of ability.
"That look in your eyes. I've liked that look from the beginning."
Serena watched the calm, unreadable gaze he turned on her and smiled faintly.
"Will you stand with me at the pinnacle of this house?"
"Raon, who on earth— ah!"
Sylvia, coming out toward the entrance, stopped short when she saw Serena, her eyes going round.
"S-Squad Leader Serena?"
"It's been a while, Sylvia."
Serena gave Sylvia a small nod.
"Today is merely a greeting. I'll come again next time with a proper gift."
She looked at Sylvia for a moment longer, then turned and walked out of the Annex without another word.
"She hasn't changed at all."
Sylvia watched Serena's retreating back, her hands clasped tightly together.
"You know her?"
"I do. She was vice-leader of my squad when I was a newly graduated swordsman."
A faint smile touched her lips, as if she were looking back on those days.
"Even then, she said she would become the Head of House Zieghart. She's still saying the same thing now."
"She said that even when she was a vice-leader?"
"She did."
Sylvia nodded without hesitation.
That's something else.
If she were a Squad Leader, as she was now, it might be one thing. To say it as a vice-leader took a rare kind of nerve. The title of heroine hadn't been given to her for nothing.
She's impressive.
"I know nothing of 'impressive,' but the flavor is dying!"
Just as Raon was marveling, Wrath ground his teeth.
"Hurry up and let's eat!"
The next day.
Raon headed to the 5th Training Ground to report that the training had been completed successfully. The grounds were already packed with trainees, and Rimer, true to form, was late.
"Raon! I heard you beat Sir Horaine!"
"What the hell even are you?"
"Insane! That's insane!"
"Because of you, none of my achievements even got noticed!"
"This guy's the real deal, I'm telling you!"
"Did he eat a Dragon Heart all by himself or something?"
The trainees crowded in around Raon, smiling warmly. There was no jealousy left, no envy. Only admiration and grins for the feats he'd pulled off.
"......"
"Hmph. If you're the top graduate, that's the least you should do."
Burren said nothing, just furrowed his brow. Marta snorted with her arms crossed, as if it were only natural for the head of the 5th Training Ground.
"Raon. Sorry. It wasn't ice cream. I'll share with you later instead."
Runaan mumbled something incomprehensible, clutching her sleeve.
This really is one of the few places that puts me at ease.
It wasn't quite the Annex, but the 5th Training Ground was one of the rare spaces that settled his heart. The thought that he didn't have much time left here with these people left a small pang of regret.
"Do you people ever get tired?"
A light voice drifted down from atop the wall. Rimer scratched at his loose, unkempt hair as he dropped to the ground.
"You're late, Instructor."
Burren stepped into Rimer's path.
"The training's already over. Late for what?"
"You set the meeting time yourself, and you missed it. That makes you late."
"People are late once or twice in life."
"Instructor, it isn't once or twice. You're late every single day."
"Ah, so picky! Keep that up and you'll go bald!"
Rimer used a movement technique to vault over Burren and climbed onto the platform.
"Mm..."
Burren smoothed both hands over his blue hair, then checked his fingers. Relieved to find that not much had come out, he exhaled.
"Ahem. You all did well on the training. It was a short period, but I trust you now have a rough sense of how each organization trains and what they do."
Rimer launched into the main topic before Burren could press him any further.
I don't, actually...
Raon narrowed his eyes. All he'd done at the Heavy Martial Palace was smash things, hit people, and smash more things. He'd gotten stronger, but he had no idea what the Heavy Martial Palace actually did.
"One week from now, the Selection Ceremony you've all been waiting for will begin."
The Selection Ceremony was the most important day of all — the day they finished five years of training and chose their affiliations. It was no exaggeration to say that everything they had poured themselves into would bear fruit then.
"Some of you may have already received them, but starting today, the squads and divisions will begin extending recruitment offers."
Rimer's gaze flicked toward Raon for a moment.
"This is the decision that determines the five years you've built. Don't get buried in the fame or profit sitting right in front of you. Choose carefully."
Unlike his usual self, he offered the advice in earnest.
"I'll give you a hint: pick a small organization. Big ones have so many people that even getting sent on a mission is hard. In a small one, most of the members get deployed on a wide variety of missions, so it's easier to build a record. And..."
Rimer pointed at his own face and grinned.
"The more handsome the squad leader, the better. Kind and warm-hearted is good. Good at gambling is even better. A generous heart that thinks of the children matters too, along with powerful swordsmanship and elegant footwork. Especially the wind-like..."
His speech veered abruptly off the road — and then off a cliff somewhere far, far to the side.
"That pointy-eared bastard's at it again. He talks far too much."
He reminds me of someone.
"There's another one who talks that much?"
Yeah. Even more.
"What a madman."
Raon swallowed the words That's you and endured Rimer's nonsense. That was when Burren came up beside him.
"Take this."
Raon accepted the box Burren held out. He cracked it open and found a golden tassel set with a gem. The color, the knotwork, and the jewel at its center all said this was no cheap trinket.
"Why would you..."
"It's a jeweled tassel for ceremonial dress. I've got extras lying around, and yours was completely bare, so take it and put it on. If the top graduate looks shabby, it makes the rest of us look bad too. Wear it properly when you come."
He must have noticed during the training.
The ornaments on the ceremonial uniform Raon had worn at the start and end of the training had been modest. Sylvia and Helen had gone to great lengths to obtain them, but they still couldn't compare to those of the other direct and collateral descendants. Burren had clearly given him the tassel with that in mind.
"Thanks."
"I picked it up, so don't worry about it."
Burren waved a hand and stepped aside.
A benefactor, huh...
As he'd said yesterday, this was probably him paying back a debt. Even if the debt was being repaid, the fact that someone else had thought of him was a good feeling.
Raon slipped the small box into his pocket. Rimer's rambling became, if only a little, less tedious.
Hah.
Raon let out a sigh, looking faintly worn.
I'm going to die.
An hour sandwiched between Rimer's nonsense and Wrath's muttering had left him more exhausted than an actual fight. He was thinking he'd hurry back and get some training in when he crossed the garden — and found the central path to the Annex packed with people. The Annex door itself was blocked by a wall of prettily wrapped boxes.
Hm?
Judging by the wrapping, every box in front of the door was a gift, and every person in line was a martial artist radiating a formidable presence.
What is all this?
He was still wondering as he approached the Annex when a martial artist spotted him and his eyes flew wide.
"Raon!"
"It's Raon!"
"Raon Zieghart! Join our Fierce Tiger Squad!"
"No — our Crimson Resolve Squad will stand at your back!"
"What are you talking about? The place that can raise Raon best is our Grand Light Palace!"
The people in line charged at him as if they'd spotted an enemy and surrounded him in a single rush. Organizations he'd heard of and organizations he hadn't all shouted their names, demanding he come to them.
"Ah..."
Now he understood. Every last one of them had come from the main house to recruit him.
"Raon!"
As Raon looked over the crowd in turn, Sylvia and the maids came up beside him.
"All of these people came because they want to recruit you!"
"And all those things are gifts for you, young master!"
"That's not even all of them! There's more inside!"
Sylvia and the maids were smiling more brightly than he had ever seen them, pointing to the mountain of gifts filling the Annex.
"I'm so proud of you..."
She seemed deeply moved that so many people had flocked to the Annex and to him — a place and a person that had never drawn anyone's interest. Tears even welled at the corners of Sylvia's eyes.
"It's too early for that."
Raon wiped the corners of her eyes with his sleeve and smiled faintly.
"This is only the beginning."
They were standing at the starting line, nothing more. Tears could wait until they had risen to the direct line. It wouldn't be too late then.
Someday. Without fail.
He vowed he would show her that sight again.
For the first time in a long while, Rimer stood inside the Audience Chamber of the Lord, facing Glenn.
"The others are getting scouted here and there as well, but Raon is still in a class of his own."
He went on with a delighted smile.
"Almost every martial organization that isn't run by a direct descendant — or by a collateral who follows one — has sent gifts and people to the Annex. Iond and Serena went in person yesterday. Everyone is burning to take Raon with them."
"Hrm..."
Glenn seemed pleased by the report. The corners of his mouth lifted, just slightly.
"Of course they are. A newly graduated swordsman at Expert Peak-Class — that's unheard of in hundreds of years. No, it's the first time in the history of House Zieghart."
"Well. That's true."
"He's the real article. The genuine article! Whoever raised him did a hell of a job. Hah!"
Rimer thumped his own chest and grinned.
"You must have been just as incredible as Raon in your day, my lord?"
"I received recruitment offers from many Squad Leaders myself. But nothing like what Raon is getting now. That boy has already surpassed the me of that year."
Glenn's eyes, which usually seemed carved from stone, curved ever so slightly. Combined with the lift at the corner of his mouth, it was unmistakably a smile.
"See that? He's hyping up his grandson more than himself. That's a textbook doting grandfather right there."
"I thought the same. His Lordship really is a hopeless Raon-devotee..."
Rimer muttered it as a whisper to Roen beside him, and Roen nodded along without a second's hesitation.
"Ahem! Quiet!"
Glenn cleared his throat and forcibly dragged the corners of his mouth back down.
"You didn't come here to say that. What is it you actually want?"
"What I want?"
"You think I've only known you a day or two? That deranged look in your eyes. Today, for once, it seems you have something worth hearing."
"You do know me well. Then I won't drag this out."
Rimer's light atmosphere vanished as if it had been washed away. A gaze settled and fierce as a gathering storm, he dropped to one knee.
"I have a request to make of you, my lord."