The Trance of Supreme Harmony
Soft moonlight grazed the dust-caked window bars of the Light Wind Squad's leader's quarters. The plaque that still read Head Instructor's Rest Room had yet to be taken down, and from within that neglected room came a rustle of movement as Rimer pushed himself to his feet. He swayed like a man who had only just clawed his way out of sleep.
"Haaah…"
Rimer peeled off his coat—blackened and scorched through—and let out a long sigh.
"Still. I made it back here without dying."
He had no memory of how he'd reached the leader's quarters at all. Half out of his mind after taking Glenn's lightning, he must have simply wandered toward the place most familiar to him.
Today hurt more than usual.
Glenn, of course, never dealt a blow that would leave a lasting wound or any kind of aftereffect. He used lightning that inflicted nothing but pain—and yet today's had been different. Martial might that descended faster than a Sword World could even be invoked, that tore the Sword World itself apart… It seemed the man had broken through another wall.
Incredible, honestly.
To already stand at a height that transcended humanity, and still have somewhere further to go—Glenn was a mystery unto himself. If a Glenn who had already overcome demonic power had ignored those Neutral Faction bastards and hardened his heart, a third of the continent might already have been kneeling beneath House Zieghart.
I'll have to be more careful from now on.
Rimer swept back hair that had gone a scorched reddish-black and let out a dry chuckle. Teasing a grandfather whose head was full of worry for his grandson would have to wait a while. Provoke the man now that he'd grown stronger, and Rimer might actually die.
"Hwaaah."
He stretched his arms overhead, working the stiffness from his shoulders.
At least everything else worked out.
The Light Wind Squad had been handed a live battle against the Five Demons—an opportunity no amount of gold could buy—and Raon had brought down an Apostle. Glenn had even opened the Archive of Enlightenment for them, a gift of staggering worth to every member of the squad. All in all, it was fair to say everything had gone as well as it possibly could.
And Raon will be taken care of without my having to say a word.
The person Glenn doted on most right now was Raon. The boy would receive something even more special. There was nothing to worry about there.
I can finally rest easy.
Rimer picked up the pouch of prize money Glenn had given him from the floor. The man handed out punishment, but he never took back a reward. Clean and precise, as always.
Though hitting the gambling dens is probably out of the question.
Glenn had been watching him with those murderous eyes. For the time being, the gambling houses would have to wait. He'd spend a few days drilling the squad and reading the room.
"Well then. Time to go get some proper rest—hm?"
He tucked the pouch of gold into his coat and opened the door—only to find someone cutting across the training ground toward him. A familiar gait. Crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. Glenn.
"C-Clan Head?"
Rimer's eyes narrowed at the sight of him.
Why is he here?
The man had already given him the reward and already dealt out the punishment. Why come looking for him at this hour?
Ah. That must be it.
He'd probably failed to control his strength with today's lightning and come bearing medicine.
"You really don't need to worry about me that much—urk!"
Rimer went out to greet him with a smile, then stopped dead. Glenn's expression was ice. That was not the look of a man delivering medicine or an apology. It was the look of a villain who had come to chew him alive.
"Was it not enough for you to be a lunatic yourself? Now you're teaching the children to gamble as well?"
"I—I beg your pardon? Me?"
What was he talking about? Gambling?
"I never cared that you lost and ruined yourself on your own. But now you mean to stain even the young sprouts black."
"M-me?"
He'd talked often enough about winning and losing with the kids, but he had never—not even once—taught them how to gamble.
"The way you deny it only makes it obvious."
Glenn's hand rose toward the sky, and Rimer found himself unable to so much as twitch, as if shackles had clamped down on every limb.
A low, rolling rumble gathered overhead. Clouds darker than the night sky itself came seething together, birthing a thunderhead.
"I went easy on you earlier. This time, I'll put some force behind it."
That was going easy? I nearly passed out from the pain.
"This is the karma you've sown. Accept it."
Watching the crimson thunder fall, Rimer found he had only one thing left to say.
"…Me?"
The Heavenly Sword Squad Leader rubbed her eyes and looked at the clearing again. It was Raon. It was unmistakably Raon—and yet for a split second, it had looked as though Glenn himself were walking those steps.
The reason Raon had resembled Glenn was simple.
He's grown…
The Supreme Harmony Footwork Raon was weaving now carried weight. The same mystery and majesty Glenn had displayed clung to every stride. A breath of disbelief slipped from her at an achievement of an entirely different caliber from before. He was nowhere near Glenn's level, of course—but he had clearly set foot upon the same path.
In this short a time? How?
Even if he had held his concentration without a single break, it had been a mere seven hours. To train for less than a night and begin to comprehend the Supreme Harmony Footwork—a martial art of the ages—was, by every measure of common sense she possessed, impossible.
What even is he…
Raon hadn't done anything special. He simply kept studying the footprints, walking the Supreme Harmony Footwork, studying the footprints again, and extending the footwork once more. And somewhere in that repetition, Glenn's presence had begun to rise from his steps.
The Heavenly Sword Squad Leader bit down lightly on the inside of her cheek, just to be sure this was real. It hurt. It wasn't a dream—and yet it felt like one. Cold sweat slid down her back at a reality that refused to make sense.
What kind of trick is he using?
How a brat who hadn't even reached Master was absorbing the Supreme Harmony Footwork—an art standing several realms above him—was beyond her. She'd known he had talent. She had never imagined it was talent like this.
"Haaah…"
She stopped glancing over it in passing and focused on Raon entirely. His crimson eyes held nothing but footprints—the absolute pinnacle of the footwork Glenn had left behind.
Don't tell me…
Her lips trembled.
Has he entered a trance?
Martial artists who had reached a high realm sometimes, in the midst of training or a Life-and-Death Duel, found every sense sharpened dozens of times over, and time itself seeming to slow. The phenomenon was commonly called a trance, the State of Self-Absorption, or a heightened entry—and Raon appeared to have fallen into it now.
A brat who hasn't even become a Master, entering a trance during training?
In a battle where life and death hung in the balance, perhaps. Entering the State of Self-Absorption while training was vanishingly rare. She herself could count the times on one hand, and every one of those five had come after she had already become a Master, in a moment of sudden enlightenment.
That Raon—who had yet to even reach Master, and who was performing training so demanding that concentration itself should have been nearly impossible—had entered a trance was almost too much to believe.
"So that's why the Clan Head told me to watch him."
Glenn's order to keep an eye on Raon had never been about protecting the boy. It had been about seeing what kind of person he was.
"A mystery. An anomaly. A breed apart."
There were no other words for him. She had lived a life with its share of twists, but she had never encountered a creature like this.
A sharp crack of displaced air rang out. Raon, still lost in the trance, kept walking the Supreme Harmony Footwork. Whether he even knew he was improving was impossible to say. He simply stared at the footprints with those spellbound eyes and kept putting one foot forward, then the next.
The blade-sharp edge of his concentration reached her even from here. She found herself wondering how far he would go—and even as the sun climbed over the mountains, she could not bring herself to leave.
"Hm?"
As she watched him, a maid appeared from the direction of the Annex, a tray of food in her hands, making her way toward the clearing.
Should I stop her?
The trance Raon had entered was a chance that might come once in a lifetime. Interrupt him now, and he could lose every scrap of enlightenment he had gained—or worse, suffer an internal injury.
The Heavenly Sword Squad Leader was about to move when the maid, approaching Raon, came to a halt. She studied him for a long, quiet moment, then turned and carried the food back the way she had come. After that, the Annex fell as still as if night had returned, and not a single maid who stepped outside went anywhere near the clearing.
Don't tell me…
The Heavenly Sword Squad Leader swallowed dryly and looked at Raon again.
"This isn't the first or second time, is it?"
His footwork was slowly, minutely, coming to resemble Glenn's Supreme Harmony Footwork.
Raon did not stop walking until he met the third moon over the Annex's clearing.
"Haaah…"
He let out a breath and sank down onto ground packed dense with footprints. He had sunk in so deep that he hadn't the strength left to so much as twitch a finger.
He lay back as he was and looked up at the sky. The moon, a little fuller than it had been two nights ago, drew a laugh out of him. Body and mind were wrecked, but he felt good. It was the laugh of a man who knew that the Supreme Harmony Footwork of before and the Supreme Harmony Footwork of now were no longer the same thing.
I've definitely improved.
Completing the Supreme Harmony Footwork was a long, long way off. To become like Glenn, even decades more of training would not be enough. But a footwork that had not even been ordinary had now sprouted far enough to be usable in a real fight. For a mere two days of training, the progress was staggering.
There's still something missing, though.
He knew, because he had engraved the Supreme Harmony Footwork Glenn had shown him into his mind exactly as it was. He had copied the stance, the formula, the movement without deviation—and still, something about his footwork was different from the man's.
What is it?
It felt more fundamental than a simple matter of martial realm or degree of mastery over the footwork itself, but he couldn't pin down the precise reason.
Hah. Maybe I used my head too much.
It wasn't only his mind. His body had hit its limit as well; his thoughts were going dull and heavy. The difference between himself and Glenn was something he'd have to find after he got back up.
You miserable wretch…
Just as he was about to drift off, Wrath ground his teeth.
You rampaged for two whole days and didn't let This King sleep a wink—and now you mean to sleep alone?
"Wrath. It's been a while."
A while? A whiiiiile? Thou shalt not sleep either! This King has neither slept nor eaten—eight meals vanished before These very eyes! Such a grudge shall not be suffered in silence!
The vanished meals, Raon gathered, meant the maids had brought food and then taken it away again.
Wrath's eyes snapped open, fierce with fury, and rage and frost erupted from him at once. Cold surged up like a tidal wave off the open sea, coiling through Raon's mana circuits and dantian, and the twenty-five points of Wrath that had lain sunk deep in his chest began to crush his soul.
This King shall seize thy flesh and indulge in gourmet cui—no. Conquer the continent!
"You were about to say gourmet cuisine, weren't you."
Shut that mouth!
Wrath had clearly poured every ounce of his power into the rage and the frost—and yet the pain was milder than expected. The reason was simple. Even now, collapsed from exhaustion, the Ring of Fire was still turning.
A low, resonant hum rolled through him. The Ring of Fire, as natural now as breathing, melted Wrath's frost and soothed the rage.
Nngh! Wh-why?!
Wrath's mouth fell open, apparently stunned that he could not overpower someone who looked ready to drop dead from fatigue.
"You… can't beat me."
Thou hast not even the strength to speak! Why can This King not break through?!
"…I don't have the strength to talk. I do have the strength to stop you."
Raon let out a drained little laugh and kept the Ring of Fire turning. He hadn't the energy to spin all six rings at once, but he endured the pain and set five of them into resonance.
What—what even are you?! How can a mere human…
As Wrath clenched his teeth in dismay, a message rose to declare his defeat.
You have endured the interference of <Wrath> while in a state of exhaustion.
All stats have increased by 1 point.
Ordinarily it would have raised a single stat by a point or so. Because he had withstood Wrath's interference while utterly spent, it had raised every stat instead. A fair system, as always.
Daaaaamn it! So This King gets no sleep, no food, and has His stats stolen on top of it all!
"That's why I told you not to."
A gift before bed. He was going to sleep like a rock.
You have exhausted both body and mind to their absolute limits.
The effect of <Sloth> maximizes the quality of your sleep.
As his eyelids grew heavy, a new message drifted up.
Th-this is that, isn't it! That fraudulent ability that showers you with stats just for sleeping well!
Raon closed his eyes, taking Wrath's shrieking as a lullaby.
Sloth, you imbecile! This King will find you later without fail! Because of you two, This King's true body is falling to pieces!