Form One: Frost Lotus
"Tsk."
Vulcan clicked his tongue as he made his way back toward the forge after circling Mirtan Village once more.
As if Gold Grain would just be sitting around here.
Forging a weapon from Gold Grain was a blacksmith's dearest dream. Even if someone in the village had possessed any, they would have hammered it into something long ago.
"So what now…"
Vulcan let out a sigh as he looked at his own workshop.
That boy's sword can't be made from ordinary metal.
Raon was a unique swordsman who wielded both fire-attribute and water-attribute aura with complete freedom. To amplify both energies, the blade would either have to be forged entirely from Gold Grain, or two metals would need to be joined with Gold Grain woven between them.
The girl named Runaan had promised to give him Cold Blood Iron, so the metals themselves would be sufficient. The Gold Grain needed to bind them together, however, was far too scarce.
This is a mess.
Given his nature, he would rather take a blade to the throat than slap something together to fit the circumstances, or produce a half-baked sword. One way or another, he had to forge the finest blade that suited the swordsman.
"Hrm. Maybe I should enter an auction."
If it was the underground auction in the commercial city of Camelun, there was a chance Gold Grain might surface.
I feel bad for the boy, but it's better to take a little more time and give him a proper sword.
He decided to send Raon back for now, acquire the Gold Grain, and call him again later. With that settled, he opened the door to the workshop.
"Hm?"
Vulcan's brow furrowed. A tall, blond man was standing inside the workshop that should have been empty, locked as it was.
"I don't know how you got in, but we're not open right now, so— hngh!"
The words of dismissal died in Vulcan's throat. The moment he saw the man's face, the soul seemed to drain from his expression, and he dropped to his knees.
"I-I greet the Northern Annihilation King!"
His voice trembled so hard he could barely speak. The man standing alone in the workshop was the lord of this land himself: Glenn Zieghart.
"It's been a while."
Glenn gave a slight nod, and a gentle current of energy rose to lift Vulcan back to his feet.
"There's no need for such excessive greetings."
"Th-thank you."
Vulcan bowed his head. He had seen Glenn many times, but the tension that seized him at every meeting was something he simply could not help.
"I heard you'd taken up the hammer again, so I came to see. It looks as though you've recovered the fire of your youth. I envy you."
Glenn's eyes gleamed as he ran his gaze over the iron fragments covering the walls and the table.
"I'm embarrassed. It was only after I'd grown old that I finally understood what I truly wanted."
"If you've come to know what you truly want, that is a good thing. Age is of no importance. Congratulations."
"Thank you."
Vulcan bowed at the waist once more.
Has he grown even stronger?
Glenn's very presence had become far gentler than before. It felt as though he had broken through yet another wall.
I can't even tell what realm he's reached anymore.
Even through eyes that had witnessed countless powerhouses, Glenn's stature was no longer something he could perceive. It was the sensation of a man who had passed beyond the clouds and reached the very edge of the heavens.
"I stopped by because I wanted you to look at my sword, after all this time."
Glenn held out the dark crimson scabbard at his waist. It was the Heavenly True Sword — blade and scabbard alike, forged by Vulcan's own hands.
"Understood."
Vulcan swallowed dryly and drew the Heavenly True Sword.
A shrill metallic ring split the air. A black blade that looked as though it had been cut from darkness itself bloomed with a killing edge so sharp it sent a chill down the spine. A completeness that would not be overstated even if one called it the finest on the continent. This was the Heavenly True Sword — the greatest masterpiece Vulcan had ever created.
"Mm."
Vulcan ran a cold, appraising eye over the masterpiece he himself had forged.
"You've clearly broken free of your inner demons."
Glenn nodded as he watched Vulcan examine the Heavenly True Sword.
"The way you look at it has changed."
"I felt it just now myself."
In the past, self-reproach had made it impossible to look at the Heavenly True Sword properly. Now, it was as if he had returned to his youth — he could meet the blade's gaze without flinching.
"What do you think of it?"
"It's perfect. The entire blade was forged from Gold Grain, so there's not a trace of damage."
Vulcan brought over a silk cloth and wiped the sword slowly from base to tip. Even looking at it again, he could find no flaw.
"The truth is, the reason I broke free of my inner demons is thanks to the Family Head's grandson."
"My grandson?"
"I mean Raon."
"Mm…"
"That child came to the charcoal kiln every single day, enduring the cold that wracked his body, and withstood heat so vicious even blacksmiths who live their entire lives before a furnace couldn't bear it. He never broke."
Vulcan smiled faintly, recalling the young Raon.
"Seeing that child's passion and effort, I was reminded of my younger self and the goals I'd once held, and I naturally shed my inner demons. I've seen countless swordsmen, so I can say this with certainty. That child will rise high."
"That's hardly something one can know."
Glenn let the words fall as if he had no particular interest. And yet something was odd. The corners of his mouth, which had been set in stillness until now, twitched ever so slightly.
That expression…
It was the first time Vulcan had ever seen the iron-faced Glenn's lips curve upward, even a little.
"I'm finished."
Having polished the Heavenly True Sword, Vulcan sheathed it and returned it to Glenn.
"You have my thanks."
Glenn fastened the Heavenly True Sword at his waist once more. It was nothing more than putting on a sword, and yet the motion was so elegant that Vulcan could not look away.
"Then I ought to pay you."
"Ah, no. How could I possibly—!"
Vulcan waved his hands rapidly, insisting it was unnecessary.
"Don't make me out to be a man without shame."
Glenn traced a finger through the air, and space split open in a seam of gold. He reached inside and drew out a wooden case a little larger than his palm.
"This is…"
"It's of no particular use to me. Take it."
"Th-thank you."
Vulcan bowed his head in overwhelming gratitude and accepted the box. Contrary to his expectations, it was quite heavy.
"May I look?"
"Go ahead."
"Then… hngh!"
Vulcan's hands trembled more violently than they had when he'd first seen Glenn.
"G-Gold Grain!"
Inside the box was Gold Grain. Larger than any piece he himself had possessed.
"Why would you…"
It was something he needed immediately, but he could not accept such a precious item merely for looking over a sword.
"I told you. It's of no use to me."
"Ha…"
Vulcan caught his breath as he stared at the Gold Grain.
"Ordinarily I would never accept this, but right now I have a place that desperately needs it."
"A place that needs it?"
"I needed Gold Grain to put into Raon's sword, so this actually works out well. Raon will be back soon, so as a gift from the Family Head to that boy…"
"I picked it up on the way."
Glenn's reply was blunt. He'd picked it up on the way? Vulcan thought something had gone wrong with his ears.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I picked it up on the way, so I have no desire to take credit for it."
"No, but that's…"
"I picked it up on the way."
"Even so…"
"I said I picked it up on the way."
Glenn frowned for the first time. Now Vulcan understood. He was not to mention that Glenn had given him the Gold Grain.
"Ah, I understand. Then I'll, I'll keep it anonymous."
"Take this as well."
Glenn passed him a second, smaller box.
"And this is…?"
"A minor elixir that invigorates the body's energy. It's easy to take — just swallow it."
"I cannot accept something like this as well!"
Vulcan tried to return the wooden case, but Glenn had already left the workshop.
"We'll meet again."
He gave a light wave of his hand and vanished from the spot like a phantom.
"Hah…"
Vulcan let out a hollow breath as he looked at the Gold Grain and the elixir in his hands.
"I don't know what's going on anymore."
The Red Dragon Turtle bellowed and stamped. The mountain shuddered, and walls of flame erupted from the ground, rolling outward in a searing tide.
Raon brought his sword down in a cross-shaped slash, splitting the fire surging toward him and opening his field of view.
That's hotter than it should be.
The heat was enough to affect even him, and he had fire-attribute resistance. This was not the firepower of the Red Dragon Turtle he knew.
"That's only natural. Why are you so surprised?"
Wrath clicked his tongue as if Raon were an idiot.
"The geothermal heat being so low until now means that turtle has had its snout buried in the earth for weeks, drinking in the warmth."
"That's possible?"
"Ordinarily the vessel would have burst from holding that much heat, but that thing endured it and evolved. You could almost call it a lesser spiritual beast."
"A lesser spiritual beast…"
"Your sword won't even bite into that turtle's flesh, so do try to put on a decent fight."
Wrath poked only his head out over the bracelet and snickered, infuriatingly pleased with himself.
We'll see whether it bites or not.
Raon drew up the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation and charged the Red Dragon Turtle.
The beast, apparently furious at having its meal interrupted, unhinged its long snout. From a throat like a bottomless pit it vomited a torrent of scarlet fire — Flame Breath.
A normal Red Dragon Turtle's breath would have been easy enough to weather. This monster's breath carried heat so vicious it was hard to breathe.
Raon planted a true step and thrust. The Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation wreathing the blade spiraled into a crimson saw of fire.
The aura on the blade spun into a saw of scarlet fire and tore into the oncoming breath.
A colossal explosion erupted between Raon and the Red Dragon Turtle, and a heat-laden vortex of flame roared upward.
Raon clicked his tongue. To match a full-power Revolving Heaven — the force of it was terrifying.
But it's clumsy.
Perhaps because its firepower had surged so suddenly, the creature could not properly control its own strength. Raon bent Revolving Heaven to twist the breath off course, then stepped into the Garam Footwork.
His left foot punched through the wall of fire. In that fleeting instant, the Red Dragon Turtle's flank came into view. He poured the acceleration dwelling in his body straight into a downward slash. A fierce stroke that could have shattered stone crashed into the beast's waist.
The blade carved a thin line through the Red Dragon Turtle's flesh and sprayed red blood.
The turtle screamed in irritation and lunged with its snout. Raon slipped the flame gushing from its mouth and was about to bring his sword down again when the creature's entire body flushed crimson, and the wound he had just opened sealed as if stitched shut with thread.
"I-it's Shell Hardening! Don't hit it! Your sword will break!"
Haren's voice rang out from behind.
Shell Hardening.
It was one of the Red Dragon Turtle's innate traits — a defensive ability that transferred the hardness of its shell to its skin.
I still have to go in.
If he didn't attack, he would never know how hard it actually was. He packed the blade with the flames of the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation and struck.
A massive rebound hurled the sword back. It felt not like cutting flesh, but like striking a lump of iron that had been hammered a thousand times. It was not only the firepower — the creature's defense had become incomparably stronger as well.
Painless or not, the Red Dragon Turtle stamped with a murderous gleam in its eyes. The earth split without mercy, and pillars of fire erupted skyward.
As the turtle poured out flame without pause, the brush and trees of Mount Skelei — a mountain that should have had some resistance to heat — began to catch fire. Left like this, an unstoppable wildfire would follow.
"Runaan!"
"Mm."
As if no further words were needed, Runaan seized Haren by the collar, pulled him aside, and began to channel frost. Silver cold spilled down like snowflakes and erased the spreading fire.
"This King already told you, did he not? That turtle is a mutant, same as you. You will not break it easily."
"That's even better."
"What?"
"He's the perfect sparring partner."
Raon let a smile slip and drove in toward the Red Dragon Turtle's right side. He shed the flame the roaring beast spat at him, then sank the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation and drew up Glacia. Into a blade steeped in biting cold, he packed the formulas of the swift sword.
A silver stroke fell and carved a little deeper into the Red Dragon Turtle's hide, but it still failed to shatter the Shell Hardening and was forced back.
The turtle thrashed its body in fury and brought its long tail crashing down. A flail of flame coiled around the tail burst the earth apart.
The attacks are simple.
The heat and force were almost too much to receive, but the trajectory itself was crude — movement that could be followed with the eyes alone. Raon shoved aside an exploding pillar of fire and slipped toward the turtle's rear.
He combined a new formula of the swift sword and poured out a second stroke. A line of frost bloomed from the blade as if sliding off the steel, and it sought the Red Dragon Turtle's heat-slick skin.
A slash faster than the creature's perception could follow bit a little deeper into its flesh. Against that enormous body it was a ridiculously small wound — but the turtle did not seem to think so.
It heaved its massive bulk up and whipped its tail in a frenzy. Every time the burning tail struck the ground, the mountain shook as if it would collapse, and the places left to stand vanished until Raon was driven into a corner.
Apparently convinced of its victory, the Red Dragon Turtle grinned and vomited a second breath.
A exhalation of flame that looked ready to melt everything it touched was a hair's breadth from reaching him when Raon stepped onto a patch of ground smaller than a fist and drove forward.
An absolute footwork that could carry him anywhere, so long as there was space enough to step — and it raced across the burning earth.
The Red Dragon Turtle hastily cut off its breath and tried to swing its tail, but it was already too late. Before the tail could even move, a full-power stroke of extreme swiftness was already there to meet it.
Shell Hardening covered the tail as well, so cutting clean through was impossible — but the wound that opened was markedly larger than before, carved by a swift-sword form that had already advanced a step. Red blood fountained from the straight gash.
The turtle spun with startling speed and swept a foreleg. Pressure like a falling boulder and heat that could melt bone crashed in together.
This much I can take.
The paw came late. The frost blade arrived first. Raon knocked the foreleg aside before it could gather force or speed, and that enormous body was driven backward. Sharp pupils filled with vicious killing intent, as if its pride had been wounded at being stopped by so small a human.
"That's not all, is it?"
Raon let an excited smile slip, white breath curling from his lips.
"I've still got a lot to do."
The more he drove the new swift-sword formulas into that hardened body, the faster and stronger his blade became. There was still endless room to grow.
The Red Dragon Turtle threw its head back and screamed at the sky. Flame thick as lava surged up from the earth and coiled around its body. Fire of staggering heat swallowed the creature whole, and the very rank of its existence climbed. That, it seemed, was the turtle's true form after devouring the geothermal heat of the mountain.
"You certainly stuffed yourself."
"No kidding."
It had sucked the earth's heat dry. The pressure rolling off it was close to the Master realm.
"D-don't go! You'd need at least Ganggi to cut that monster!"
Haren's voice rang out, as unhelpful as ever. Raon waved a hand to say it was fine and lowered his stance.
"If I don't have teeth, I'll fight with my gums."
He kicked off the ground and charged the Red Dragon Turtle, which had become flame itself.
The Red Dragon Turtle swept a burning foreleg. Raon drew his sword before it arrived and knocked it aside. A single formula sprouted in his mind.
He brought the blade up into the tail that hung like a flail of fire. A tremendous shock crushed down on his shoulder, but he pressed forward. A formula was wiped away.
Flame raining from the shell poured down like a cloudburst. He unleashed every swift-sword form he had drawn until now. Two formulas vanished, and four intertwined.
Fire and ice collided, and steam swallowed the world. Moving by sight would be too late. What he focused on was sense. He ran the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation like a sea of perception and extended a blade of frost.
A concentration so sharp it raised gooseflesh took hold. His own breathing. The enemy's. Every current of the fight came to rest against his skin.
He cut the flame. He cut the flail. He cut the shell.
The more he swung, the faster the sword became, and the denser the frost. Formulas mixed and merged until he forgot even what he was unfolding.
The Red Dragon Turtle, which had blotted out the sun itself, was driven back again and again by a sword that was small and thin enough to make its bulk look absurd. Fear and terror surfaced in a beast's eyes that held nothing but instinct.
It roared and set the whole earth alight. It threw its neck back, then lunged, and vomited every last scrap of the flame-breath it had stored.
As if everything until now had been a game, the entire field of vision filled with heaving fire.
The Ring of Fire resonated, and the world slowed.
The swift-sword formulas that had filled his mind meshed together like gears, and lightning struck through his thoughts.
A single line that split the world. A flash of extreme swiftness, faster than anything, able to arrive before anyone.
His hand moved before understanding caught up. Before the storm of bursting flame, a silver trajectory rose.
A flickering blue light from Raon's sword split the blood-red world in two.