A Different Kind of Reward
Raon entered the Audience Chamber under the guidance of Roen, who had been waiting in front of the Lord's Palace. And yet—
Is he really planning to give us a gift?
Glenn, master of this vast hall, had his mouth twisted as if the present situation sat poorly with him. His presence was heavier than usual—so oppressive it was a struggle even to breathe.
That doesn't look like a gift. More like he's about to dump a whole bowl of abuse on your head.
Wrath looked up at Glenn and snickered.
"Hmm."
While Raon knelt with the Light Wind Squad and gazed up at him, Glenn's jaw shifted slightly.
"Vice-leader of the Light Wind Squad."
"Yes, sir!"
Raon answered without a hint of fluster, dipping his head just a fraction.
"Tell me, in your own words, what happened in Forvan City."
"Understood. The first people we met upon arriving in Forvan were Morell of the Balkar Kingdom and the Salamanders. After a small wager with them…"
"A wager?"
"A light spar, sir."
"Did you win?"
The question came with a surge of even heavier presence. If Raon said he had lost, it felt as though the very air in the chamber would vanish.
"Yes. I won, and I made the Salamanders our servants for the duration of the mission."
"Servants. Good."
The moment Glenn said the word, the oppressive atmosphere evaporated at once. For all that he seemed to have transcended worldly concerns, competition among the Six Kings was apparently still a matter he took to heart.
"Continue."
"Yes, sir. After that, we went to Market Master Oweist…"
In the now-lighter atmosphere, Raon recounted everything that had happened in Forvan City. Glenn paused briefly when Raon mentioned trying to gather information at a gambling den, but the rest of the report passed smoothly.
"…And so the 10th Apostle took the fallen 7th Apostle and withdrew."
"Casualties?"
"Marta and I suffered internal injuries, and there were a few with minor wounds, but everyone has fully recovered now."
"Hah…"
Having heard the full account, Roen drew in a breath of open admiration.
"Hmm."
Glenn gave a slight nod, his expression unchanged.
That's an awfully muted reaction.
Did This King not tell you? To the likes of This King—or your family head—that much is nothing special.
I know.
Having stuffed himself with cooking and ice cream and recovered his spirits, Wrath kept inserting himself into the conversation with irritating little remarks.
"Well done."
Contrary to Wrath's prediction, however, the first words from Glenn's mouth were praise.
"As swordsmen, this was your first mission carrying real responsibility. You must have been tense, yet you returned having performed admirably. I particularly liked how you reduced Balkar to a supporting role."
"Ah, not at all!"
"We only did what we were supposed to do!"
The Light Wind Squad members shook their heads in fluster, thrown by Glenn's words—so at odds with the sharp atmosphere of the Audience Chamber.
"Clashing head-on with the Five Demons and not losing a single person is an achievement worthy of praise. All the more so when it was the first mission of newly minted swordsmen."
"Th-thank you, sir!"
The swordsmen trembled with emotion at receiving Glenn's praise. Words of commendation from the mouth of the man known as the Northern Annihilation King were vanishingly rare, and every one of them looked moved.
"Which is why what comes next is important."
Glenn slowly rose from the jade throne. A mighty wave of presence exploded outward in an instant. It felt as if a mountain itself had begun to move.
"Those who don't know you will continue to look down on you and pick fights, just as they have until now. Those who learned of you through this incident will try to test whether your skill is the real thing."
Raon nodded.
He's right.
Just as Glenn said, those who hadn't heard the rumors would dismiss them and pick fights the way Balkar had, while those who had heard would try to test whether they truly possessed the strength to defeat the White Blood Cult. Things were going to get more dangerous—and more annoying—than before.
"What you'll need then is unity and martial power. Your unity, having lived together since your trainee days, should be no less than that of any other squad or division. But in terms of martial power, you are clearly lacking."
Having finished speaking, Glenn flicked the fingers of his left hand. A crisp sound rang through the Audience Chamber, and the floor trembled as if it were collapsing.
Kuuuuung!
From the shuddering floor of the Audience Chamber, golden flames spiraled upward.
Goooooh!
A pillar of fire that reached the ceiling subsided, revealing a colossal circular bookshelf so vast it could scarcely be taken in at a glance. Hundreds of compartments were packed with books of every kind.
"That's the one from back then…"
Raon swallowed dryly. It was the very same bookshelf from which he had once obtained the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames.
"Th-the Archive of Enlightenment!"
Burren stared up at the bookshelf, his eyes flying wide.
"To see this with my own eyes…"
He clutched his chest as if overcome, sniffling.
"Wow…"
"I never thought I'd see the Archive of Enlightenment with my own eyes…"
"It feels like a dream."
The other Light Wind Squad members gasped in awe as they looked at the bookshelf. So that was its name—the Archive of Enlightenment.
"This is your reward for the achievements of your first mission: overpowering Balkar and defeating the White Blood Cult. Place your hand on the center of the archive and take one martial arts manual suited to each of you."
"Th-thank you, sir!"
"It is an honor!"
The Light Wind Squad members knelt once more and bowed their heads.
"That's enough greeting. Begin at once."
"Yes, sir."
Raon nodded and looked at Burren. Understanding the intent, Burren stepped forward first. His face was flushed with excitement as he placed his hand on the center of the bookshelf.
Wooooong!
The bookshelf vibrated and rotated, and from its middle a single book slowly drifted down.
"Ah!"
Burren raised trembling hands to receive the book, his eyes shining. Looking over his shoulder at the title, Raon saw it was labeled Form Technique. Judging by the name, it was a martial arts manual for handling the body itself.
That's what he was lacking, all right.
Burren already possessed a unique sword art in the form of the Cutting Wind. This martial art for using the body seemed to have appeared so he could wield that swordsmanship more effectively.
So it really does produce what you need most.
It had been the same with the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames. This archive seemed to produce the martial art most needed by the warrior who placed their hand upon it. Raon had no idea what magic, formations, or techniques were involved, but it could be nothing short of the work of a god.
"Excellent."
At the cheerful voice, Raon turned. Rimer was nodding with a look of satisfaction.
Looks like he's in a good mood.
Just a little while ago he'd been ready to die from lack of money, and now he was delighted that his disciples were receiving a reward.
If only he didn't gamble, he'd actually be a decent man.
His care for his disciples was genuine, but the moment money and gambling entered the picture, the man turned ugly. They might have to launch an anti-gambling campaign one of these days.
"Runaan."
"Mm."
Raon sent Runaan out next. For her, a sword art emerged that would let her wield her water-attribute aura more brilliantly and more sharply.
For Marta, a footwork technique descended, imbued with the mighty, destructive power that suited her.
For Dorian, a footwork manual focused on evasion came down, along with a single sheet of paper. Strangely, the paper contained not a martial art, but methods for storing and managing luggage more efficiently.
One by one, the Light Wind Squad swordsmen each received a book suited to them, and at last it was Raon's turn.
I wonder what I'll get.
Raon looked at the bookshelf and licked his lips.
Footwork would be best.
He still had plenty of swordsmanship left to master, and for handling the body, the Ring of Fire was sufficient. The Supreme Harmony Footwork was only half-complete, so what he needed most right now was a footwork art to learn after Garam Footwork.
Hoping for a suitable footwork technique, he placed his hand on the center of the bookshelf.
Wooooong!
The Archive of Enlightenment vibrated and rotated more than twice as violently as it had for the other swordsmen. But no matter how much it turned, no book fell.
"Huh?"
Raon tilted his head and placed his hand on the archive again, but the bookshelf remained utterly still. Now it neither vibrated nor rotated—it had simply stopped.
"H-how is this…"
He looked to Glenn in confusion, but the man's expression was calm.
"It would appear the martial art you currently need is not in this place."
"Is that possible?"
"It seems the bookshelf doesn't like you."
"Ah…"
Raon placed his hand on it once more, but again there was no response from the bookshelf.
"That would seem to be all for today."
Glenn flicked his fingers, and golden flames rose as they had at the start. The Archive of Enlightenment sank back into the earth.
"L-Lord."
Just as Raon was thinking he'd stepped in it, Marta raised a trembling hand.
"What is it?"
"We survived this mission thanks to Raon. Even if it means returning the footwork I received, I would ask that you grant Raon a different reward."
She endured the crushing pressure of Glenn's gaze and finished what she had to say.
"Marta?"
Raon narrowed his eyes. Burren, maybe—but he never expected those words to come from her mouth. It was more surprising than the bookshelf failing to produce a book.
"Ugh…"
Marta didn't even look at Raon. She kept her gaze locked on Glenn, biting her lip until it bled.
"Th-that's right."
"We're only standing here because of Raon. If he doesn't receive anything, we'll return these books as well."
Burren, Runaan, and the other swordsmen stepped up beside Marta and held out the books they had just received.
"You are under a great misconception."
Glenn watched them quietly, then clasped his hands behind his back and stood at the edge of the dais.
"Sir?"
"Not receiving a book from the archive is not the end. I will grant the vice-leader of the Light Wind Squad a reward by another means before long, so there is no need to worry."
I figured as much.
Raon nodded. It was a shame not to receive a martial art, but Glenn was a man unfailing in matters of reward and punishment. It might take a while, but he would certainly provide compensation in some other form.
"Ah, thank you! I-I spoke out of turn…"
Marta flushed and gathered her book back up.
"You may all return now."
Glenn waved a hand as if the whole affair had become a nuisance.
"Thank you for granting gifts to the squad members."
Raon bowed deeply to Glenn and rose. He looked at Rimer, who smiled faintly as if to say go on ahead.
"Then we shall take our leave."
He nodded and led the Light Wind Squad out of the Audience Chamber.
Kuuung!
The doors of the Audience Chamber closed, and now only three people remained in the Lord's Palace: Glenn, Roen, and Rimer.
"How should I put this. The Light Wind Squad doesn't feel like a newly formed unit at all."
Roen smiled gently.
"The way they look out for one another is a pleasure to behold."
"I never expected Marta of all people to ask that Raon be taken care of."
Glenn nodded, gazing at the door through which everyone had left.
"Young Master Raon didn't even receive a reward, yet he showed no disappointment and offered congratulations to everyone else. Seeing that, I truly feel his vessel is on a different level."
"Ahem. Well, that's true enough."
The moment he heard Raon praised, the corners of Glenn's mouth, which had been set rigid, softened, and he cleared his throat.
"And whose doing do you suppose that is?"
Rimer beamed and stepped up beside Roen.
"It's all possible because I keep them centered!"
He grinned and pointed at himself with a finger.
"Yes. Well done."
Glenn narrowed his eyes at Rimer.
"Well done? This mission was entirely those kids' doing."
Rimer shook his head. When praising the children he boasted about himself; when being praised himself he credited the children. He really was a peculiar human being.
"How strong was the 10th Apostle?"
"He'd crossed the second wall. He didn't fight properly, so I can't say his exact level, but Grandmaster is certain."
"Is that so."
Even at the word Grandmaster, Glenn's expression remained unmoved.
"I should have killed him the first time I saw him."
"There was no helping it then. The White Blood Cult Leader and those two bosses of Eden were there together."
Rimer shrugged, looking at the window where golden sunlight streamed in.
"Anyway, we really rode Raon's coattails this time."
"Did we?"
"Yes. The 10th Apostle withdrew because Raon took down the 7th Apostle. It was Raon who shut Balkar up, too. You should have seen Morell using honorifics with Raon."
The sight of Morell, known as the Flame Snake, speaking respectfully to a seventeen-year-old newly minted swordsman was a spectacle you couldn't buy for any sum.
"So please take good care of Raon. And don't play tricks with the archive."
"Tricks?"
Glenn lowered his eyebrows slightly, as if he'd done no such thing.
"You used formless aura to stop the book that was trying to come out of the archive."
Rimer smacked his lips, looking at the floor where the bookshelf had been.
"I understand why you did it, though."
When Raon had touched the bookshelf, a book had clearly tried to move—but Glenn had used formless aura to block it. That was why it had appeared as if there was no response at all.
"You blocked the book from the archive because you intend to teach him personally, right? Our Raon ought to know about his grandfather's devoted heart toward his grandson…"
"Silence!"
Glenn clicked his tongue and waved a hand.
"Yessir! This noisy fellow will take his leave, so you should take care of me too, you know."
Rimer laughed and held out his hand.
"Of course I intended to give you a reward as well."
At Glenn's nod, Roen brought over a heavy pouch.
"You've worked hard."
"Ahahaha! Thank you!"
Rimer's face lit up as he opened the pouch and confirmed the gold inside.
"Is the compensation sufficient?"
"Ah, of course! With this much I can play as much as I want!"
"Even with that, you won't beat that man. He didn't earn a continent-wide reputation for gambling for nothing."
"But he's human. He can't keep winning forever, can he?"
"Get a hold of yourself. Even if you lose your money, the dead don't come back to life."
"My lord, that's…"
"Hah. Enough of old stories. Now it's time to address your faults."
Glenn descended from the dais. With each heavy footfall, a chill bloomed through the entire Lord's Palace.
"Huh? F-faults? What faults?"
Rimer hid the gold pouch behind his back and retreated.
"This."
A sheet of paper fluttered in Glenn's hand. It was the report Rimer had sent previously.
"Two lines. You clashed with an Apostle and you sent a report of a mere two lines?"
"Th-that's because I had to send a flash report quickly…"
"The situation was already over. You had plenty of time to write how you won and how badly the children were injured."
"Aaaah! So you were worried about Raon! You should have just said so from the start…"
Rimer, who had been edging backward, stopped dead. There was no wall behind him, yet he could flee no further.
"F-formless aura? You made a wall with formless aura?"
He tried to lunge forward in alarm, but he couldn't move an inch. All four directions were sealed by formless aura.
Kurrrrrrung!
And above his head, crimson lightning began to writhe.
"Reports are one of a squad leader's essential duties. Even if you completed the mission, you failed to handle the aftermath properly. I will therefore impose the corresponding punishment."
"Th-that's not punishment—if that hits me I'll die!"
"You won't die. That's right. You will not die."
At Glenn's gesture, the crimson lightning writhing in the air came crashing down with a thunderous roar.
"Sword Worl—! Gyaaaaah!"
Rimer tried to open his Sword World, but it was already too late. Dozens of bolts of lightning tore apart the Sword World he was trying to open and engulfed his entire body.
Kwaaaaaaang!
That day, crimson light flashed in the Audience Chamber for a long, long time.
Raon finished his meal at the Annex with Sylvia and the maids, returned to his room, and let out a sigh.
"Exhausting."
Once to Glenn, twice to everyone at the Annex. Having to recount those long events from Forvan twice in a single day was more tiring than the fighting itself had been.
This King is dying too, having to listen to that boring, unremarkable story twice.
Wrath flapped a hand, urging him to just go to sleep already.
"Yeah, I should."
Whether it was from leading everyone all the way back to House Zieghart, or from having to tell the story twice despite not being much of a talker, a languid heaviness settled over him.
Knock knock knock.
He had just taken off his outer garment to wash up and sleep when three knocks sounded at the door. Judiel's signal.
"Come in."
"Yes."
The door opened and Judiel entered carrying a thin book. She bowed her head and held out the book she had brought.
"What's this?"
"While you were away on the mission, I gathered more detailed materials on the martial organizations within House Zieghart."
"Hmm."
Raon opened the book he'd received from Judiel. At the Selection Ceremony, the materials had been concentrated on the division heads and squad leaders; now they also covered the character of each squad and division, as well as their key personnel.
They would likely have many occasions to fight alongside other squads and divisions going forward, so she seemed to have investigated in advance.
"An order has come down from the Heavy Martial Palace to ascertain Young Master's true martial power."
"They've grown cautious. They want to confirm my skill before they make a move?"
"It would appear so."
After he'd defeated an Apostle this time, it seemed the Heavy Martial Palace side had given up on moving recklessly.
"Then pretend you happened to see a training session and leak it moderately. Say I seem to be just short of Master."
"Understood."
Judiel nodded and continued.
"While investigating the martial organizations, I also learned a little about the White Blood Cult. The 7th Apostle you fought appears to have been a recent addition, while the 10th Apostle has held that position for thirty years."
He already knew. Even when he'd lived as the assassin Raon, the 10th Apostle had been the same.
"For reference, among the Apostles, only four have held their positions for over thirty years. Those are the White Blood Cult's true monsters."
"I imagine so."
The strength of a martial organization is determined by the caliber of its masters more than by numbers. The reason the Six Kings and Five Demons were called the strongest on the continent was thanks to the supreme experts within them.
"Please continue to take care of yourself."
Judiel offered a dry farewell, as if she'd given him everything she had to give, and turned her back.
"Thank you."
"Not at all."
She bowed with an expressionless face and went out the door.
"Hmmm…"
Raon opened the booklet and scanned through the contents. The information on the division heads, squad leaders, vice-division heads, and vice-squad leaders was reasonably detailed as well.
"There's someone besides our squad leader who likes to gamble."
As he went through the contents, there was one vice-squad leader who enjoyed gambling. Unlike Rimer, however, this person was quite good at it, winning every time they went and overflowing with confidence. The complete opposite of Rimer.
"Not bad."
He skimmed the booklet from beginning to end, put it in a drawer, and stood up. He put on his clothes and took up the Heavenly Sky Sword.
What. You're not sleeping? Where do you think you're going?
Looking at this made my body itch. I'm going to train a bit.
Not "I'm going"—This King is coming with you! A mere tenant, acting as he pleases!
A tenant? Me?
That's right. You currently occupy that body by This King's grace.
Well, you're not a tenant. You're a parasite.
W-what did you say! This King is the true master of that body. This King could seize it at any time.
Then try it now.
Raon crooked a finger as if daring him to come at him.
Khhngh…
Wrath couldn't rashly charge in, and only stirred up the energy of wrath and cold. He knew it himself. If he charged in, he'd only end up pouring stats into Raon.
It won't take long. Just bear with it a little.
Raon chuckled and went out of the Annex. He was heading for the clearing in front of the lake when someone came walking from the direction of the Main House.
Slow footsteps, yet steeped in dignity. Golden hair caught the moonlight and blazed; crimson eyes lit the dark.
W-why is he here?
It was Glenn. He hadn't set foot in the Annex even once since Raon was a hundred days old. Raon couldn't imagine why he was here now.
"I-I greet the Hea—"
He tried to drop to his knees and bow his head, but something in the air stopped his waist and neck from bending.
"Don't make a racket at night."
Glenn stood before him, his deeply sunken eyes gleaming.
"You're already out. That saves me the trouble."
"Sir?"
"Follow me."
He turned his back and gestured as if to say follow.
"Wh-where are we going?"
"I told you earlier."
Glenn glanced back. He frowned, his gaze cold.