A Systematic Plan
Tekri, vice-commander of the Gold Peak Squad, swallowed hard as he stared at Raon standing right in front of him.
What is this?
He had risen to strike, but his arms and legs creaked in protest. Some nameless, ominous energy seemed to have bound his entire body tight.
It's not him…
Raon was smirking, as if daring him to throw the punch. Someone wearing an expression like that wouldn't be circulating aura to hold him back.
Tekri ground his teeth and drew up his aura. He shoved aside the pressure clamping down on his body and raised his hand. His limbs started moving properly again—but the ominous sensation only grew stronger, sharp enough now to sting his sense of smell.
Th-this… it can't be…
A gasp tore through him internally. He understood now. It wasn't coming from outside. It was coming from within. What had locked his arm in place and flooded him with that dreadful feeling wasn't Raon at all—it was his own instincts.
The combat sense he had honed through years of training and battle was whispering to him. Do not fight Raon.
"V-Vice-commander!"
"What are you doing?!"
"That bastard's looking down on us!"
The Gold Peak swordsmen behind him waved their arms and shouted, urging him to punish Raon.
"Not going to hit me?"
Raon wore an insolent little smile, as if telling him to hurry up, and even leaned his face in closer.
"Your men are watching. You're just going to let this slide?"
"You son of a…"
It is a law of human nature that a man finds strength and courage he never knew he had when standing before a woman he likes—or before his own subordinates. Tekri ignored his instincts and clenched his fist.
"KRAAAAAH!"
Tekri wound a thin coil of aura around his bunched knuckles and drove the punch forward. Blue aura twisted like a serpent and formed a spear-point ahead of his fist—the secret art of the Annihilation Fist he had learned after joining the Gold Peak Squad.
The fist shot out like a flash of light and smashed into Raon's left cheek.
That was nothing!
Contrary to those uneasy instincts, Raon had failed to evade the Annihilation Fist. Tekri smiled and extended his arm all the way through.
"Huh?"
But there was no impact against his knuckles. It felt as hollow as striking a cloth flapping in the wind.
The instant he registered that something was wrong, his eyes met Raon's. Those eyes burned red like a blazing sun. A bone-deep chill crawled over him, as if he had shoved his own head into the jaws of a beast.
Raon turned his neck and slipped the Annihilation Fist past him with perfect ease, then drove his right fist forward. The colossal force riding that punch split the air itself as it came crashing in.
"Hup—!"
Tekri ducked his head and rapidly worked his footwork, retreating.
Ugh!
He reached what should have been a safe distance and lifted his head—but the fist was still there. Raon had read the direction of his evasion and followed him. The punch filled his entire field of vision. There was nowhere left to dodge.
If you think I'm just going to take this— wait!
He frantically tried to circulate his aura and raise a barrier, but his aura core gave no response. It wasn't only his aura core. His entire body had gone rigid, as if bound in rope.
Th-this is…
Aura suppression—the same technique Raon had used when he hooked Dorian's leg and sent him sprawling. Raon wanted him to suffer exactly as Dorian had.
"You ba— ghk!"
Tekri never even finished the curse. Raon's fist caught him square. There was no time to deflect. A monstrous impact slammed into his skull.
Tekri heard the sound of his own face caving in, and then he lost consciousness.
An explosive crash rang out, and Tekri was embedded in the cafeteria's right-hand wall like a framed painting.
"Ah, sorry."
Raon dusted off his hands and smiled faintly.
"Reflex. Couldn't help it."
He said it, then touched the cheek Tekri's fist had grazed on the way past.
"Y-you—!"
"What the hell was that?!"
"Vice-commander!"
"Hold it."
The Gold Peak swordsmen started to rush toward Tekri, who was still stuck in the wall—until Raon raised a hand. At that single word, they froze like wooden dolls.
"You in the middle. Sky-blue hair. Over here."
"W-why…"
The sky-blue-haired swordsman shuffled forward, shrinking into himself.
"Name?"
"D-Dolan."
"You're next after that guy, right? A squad leader?"
"Hhk…"
Dolan's face went stiff at the question. He clearly hadn't expected anyone to pin down his rank in a single glance.
Just as I thought.
Raon gave a short laugh. He had singled Dolan out because, Tekri aside, the man carried the strongest aura in the room. And he had been right.
"Dolan. You know who I am, I assume."
"Y-yeah, I know."
"Then why are you talking down to me? I'm a vice-commander. You're a squad leader."
"Ugh!"
Raon flicked his fingers as if he might clench a fist, and Dolan's face went deathly pale.
"I-I'm sorry, sir."
Dolan bowed his head and raised his speech, his voice trembling.
"Unfortunately, your vice-commander ended up like that, so I'll have to discuss the match with you."
Raon sat down in the chair Tekri had vacated. Dolan couldn't get a word out. He just swallowed dryly.
"First, the date. Three months from now."
"Three months? Three months is far too long!"
Dolan's eyes flew wide. Garon had told him to set the sparring date within two weeks at the latest. If he reported a match three months out, he was going to get his skull caved in.
"We're being considerate, you realize."
"Sir?"
"You think that one's getting up within a month?"
Raon chuckled and pointed at Tekri, still planted in the wall.
"Ah…"
Dolan stared at him with vacant eyes. Looking at that grotesque posture, it was the face that had been hit—but it looked as though every bone in the man's body had been broken. Factoring in rehabilitation, a month was nowhere near enough.
"Well?"
"H-he's not getting up. That's correct, sir. Then three months it is…"
"If someone's been considerate, shouldn't you at least say thank you?"
"Sir?"
"I took your situation into account and did you a favor. So you thank me."
"Ah—th-thank you, sir!"
Dolan bowed his head, his eyes rolling. Raon was the one who had turned Tekri into that wreck. Whether this was actually something to be grateful for, he had no idea.
"Date's settled, then. As for the format: thirty-five fighters, one-on-one. Whichever side takes more wins takes the match. A group duel."
"Understood, sir."
"And what you want if you win is a halt to the Light Wind Squad's activities, I take it."
"Hhk—!"
Dolan's face went ashen. That had been exactly right.
"Not a single inch off. How about that."
Raon snickered. Just as he'd expected, Garon, commander of the Gold Peak Squad, had picked this fight as revenge for Jinmu Hall having its operations suspended.
"The term would be about two years."
"…That's correct, sir."
"And you were told to accept whatever conditions we named, weren't you?"
"Th-that's also correct, sir."
Dolan nodded with the vacant look of a man who had just seen a ghost.
"Then we'll leave our conditions blank for now. We'll decide them when we win."
"Y-yes. Yes, sir…"
Whether his mind had gone numb or simply stopped working, Dolan just kept repeating yes with unfocused eyes.
"Now we need a notary for this match."
"I'll go fetch one—"
"I'll do it."
Dolan had started to move when the cafeteria door opened and a woman with purple hair walked in. She was small, with pale skin and narrow eyes—a beauty. A gray sword, however, was strapped diagonally across her back, and she radiated a terrifying presence wholly at odds with her appearance. There was only one swordswoman in House Zieghart who looked like that and hit that hard.
The Heavenly Sword Squad Leader…
Sheryl. The heroine who had commanded Glenn Zieghart's personal Heavenly Sword Squad for decades, and a powerhouse who had risen to Grandmaster.
But this energy…
Sheryl's presence was not unfamiliar. He had felt it faintly today during his trance, and before that, whenever he had been deeply focused.
"H-Heavenly Sword Squad Leader? Why are you here…"
Dolan sank to the floor in terror, his shoulders shaking.
"Because of you people, no one else has been able to enter the cafeteria."
She pointed at the open door. The craftsmen and swordsmen who normally used the hall had been reading the room and keeping well away.
"Finish this quickly and all of you get out. Are you dueling or not."
Sheryl's voice was soft. Her manner was not.
"We are."
"W-we are as well."
"The duel takes place three months from now at the Great Training Ground. Wager format: thirty-five members, one-on-one spars. The Gold Peak Squad's stake is a two-year suspension of Light Wind Squad activities, and the Light Wind Squad will name theirs after it's over. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
Raon and Dolan nodded at the same time.
In the name of Heavenly Sword Squad Leader Sheryl, I hereby notarize the duel between the Light Wind Squad and the Gold Peak Squad.
"Thank you."
"Then both of you disappear."
Sheryl didn't even acknowledge the thanks. She just waved them off, telling them to go already.
"Ah—yes, ma'am!"
Dolan pulled Tekri out of the wall and fled the cafeteria with the rest of the Gold Peak swordsmen.
"You're not leaving?"
"I have something to take care of. Dorian."
Raon called to Dorian, who had been standing well back with his mouth hanging open.
"Mind handing me some cleaning supplies?"
"Huh? Ah—yes, sir."
Looking thoroughly bewildered, Dorian pulled a broom, a rag, and a bucket from his belly pouch.
"To throw away food… you shall receive heaven's punishment."
Demon Kings use that phrase too?
"Silence! You pampered little brat who grew up too well to even know the value of a meal!"
Alright. Sorry.
"Ghk—!"
The instant Raon apologized, Wrath made a very strange noise.
"Y-you actually apologized? Will the sun rise in the west tomorrow?"
Not a chance.
Raon shook his head. He had gone hungry in his previous life; he understood the value of food better than anyone. This time, though, he had wanted to pay Dorian back in kind for what had been done to him.
"I-I'll help too!"
"I'll give you a hand as well."
Together with Dorian and Burren, Raon cleared away the wreckage of the floor, the tables, and the chairs, then approached the still-flustered cafeteria staff.
"Even if there were circumstances, I'm sorry we wasted the food. It won't happen again."
"N-no, sir!"
"P-please don't! It was already on the floor anyway…"
The staff waved their hands in frantic denial.
"Those people won't be coming back. We'll cover the repair costs, so rebuild everything with the best materials you've got."
Raon told the staff what to do going forward, then stepped in front of Sheryl.
"Thank you for notarizing the match. I'll be going now."
"……"
She didn't answer. She only narrowed her eyes and studied him, as if trying to read his thoughts.
"And one more thing. If you're going to keep following me around, please loosen your expression a little. It's hard to train when I'm that scared."
"Wh-what?!"
Sheryl's pupils blew wide, as if they had swallowed a full moon.
I knew it.
He had floated the remark on a hunch, and it had landed exactly as expected. The presence he had sensed during his trance—and, on rare occasions, at other times—had belonged to Sheryl.
"Y-you, how did you…"
Raon gave the flustered Sheryl a little wave and left the cafeteria.
"Hah…"
Sheryl bit down on her lip, her shock written plainly across her face.
"That boy felt my presence?"
"So let me get this straight."
Garon looked down at Dolan, grinding his teeth. His murderous presence rolled out through the commander's office, and the blades mounted in the walls let out an eerie, keening wail.
"Tekri got turned into this crippled wreck by a single punch from Raon, and the match got pushed back three months. That's what you're telling me?"
"Th-that's correct, sir."
Dolan nodded, trembling from head to foot.
"Are you out of your mind? You got a hole punched through your skull?"
Garon's eyes glittered with a demonic, savage light.
"A squad leader deciding the terms of a duel on his own—who the hell do you think you are? If you were going to do it, do it properly! Three months from now? I have to sit here and watch those bastards run wild for three whole months? Huh?"
"I-I'm sor—"
"On top of that, our vice-commander comes back a cripple and you just let it go? What the hell is going on here?!"
"He said he hit him on reflex…"
"Reflex? How about I gouge out your eyeballs and show you a reflex?"
"Ah—I-I mean, in the cafeteria…"
Dolan told Garon everything that had happened between Raon and Tekri in the cafeteria.
"So one punch from Raon dropped him, and now he's lying there like a puppet with its strings cut. That's it?"
"Th-that's correct, sir."
"What a goddamn mess."
Garon slapped the already-unconscious Tekri hard across the cheek. The shock must have been severe; the man still didn't wake.
"Hah. Let's go. I'm not accepting a duel like this. I don't care about the rest of it, but three months is too long."
"But the time needed to treat Vice-commander Tekri and let him recover…"
"We don't need that idiot to beat them. The notary's on our side anyway. We can change whatever we want."
"S-sir, the notary isn't the person we had prepared."
"What? What kind of bullshit is that?"
"The notary for this duel is the Heavenly Sword Squad Leader."
Dolan continued with the look of a man about to die.
"B-before we could even bring in the notary we'd arranged, the Heavenly Sword Squad Leader showed up out of nowhere and stood as witness."
"That ageless ghost of a bitch!"
Garon ground his teeth. He couldn't understand why she hadn't just walked past with her usual indifference. What had she hoped to gain by sticking her nose in and notarizing the match?
"Damn it. That woman's vicious. She'll never agree to change it."
The Heavenly Sword Squad Leader was the most fastidious person in the entire house. Despite her youthful appearance, she was the same age as Glenn, and ordinary tricks and pressure meant nothing to her.
"No choice, then. Raise the intensity of the squad's training for the next three months."
Garon looked down at the fallen Tekri and clenched his fist.
"So none of you end up as pathetic as this."
After leaving the cafeteria, the Heavenly Sword Squad Leader went straight to Glenn and reported everything that had happened that day.
"The Gold Peak Squad and the Light Wind Squad, is it…"
Glenn nodded slowly, looking as though the matter barely interested him.
"I don't know whether Balder was involved, but it's clear Jinmu Hall picked the fight first. They used a rather nasty method to keep the Enforcement Division from stepping in."
"They must have watched Raiden take the fall and decided they needed a pretext. The method is dirty, but it's an effective way to apply pressure."
He gave a faint, unconcerned laugh.
"That aside—you said Raon hit the Gold Peak vice-commander with a food tray?"
"Yes. I never imagined a tray could make a sound like that."
Sheryl let out a disbelieving puff of air.
"He knocked Tekri—an Expert Peak-Class—unconscious with a single punch. Raon's strength, his reflexes, and his aura control are already at Master level or higher. That would not be an exaggeration."
"Ahem."
Glenn made an ambiguous face, caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace, and covered his mouth.
"So why did you step in to notarize it? I was under the impression you didn't care for that sort of thing."
"If they'd kept dragging it out, the cafeteria staff, the craftsmen, and the other swordsmen would have been caught in the middle. So I intervened."
"I see."
Glenn nodded slowly.
"That said, I wonder whether this match even has any meaning."
"What do you mean?"
"I understand now why you asked me to watch Raon, Clan Head. He has more talent than anyone I have ever seen, and diligence and persistence to match. Someday he will reach where I stand. No—he will surpass me and touch the heavens themselves. But…"
Sheryl narrowed her eyes and went on.
"This match isn't Raon fighting alone. It's group against group. The Light Wind Squad versus the Gold Peak Squad. Exclude Raon, Rimer, and the three squad leaders, and the Light Wind Squad will lose every remaining fight."
She shook her head as if the outcome were already decided.
"Do you remember what Rimer used to say?"
"What he used to say…"
"That Raon has the makings of a king."
"Of course I remember. He said it every time I saw him. It got tedious."
Sheryl frowned. At some point, Rimer had started muttering that Raon was a king's vessel, as if trying to brainwash everyone around him.
"I don't believe martial talent alone makes a king, however."
"I agree. I acknowledge that the boy's talent is unprecedented, but becoming a king—becoming the master of this house—is another matter entirely."
Glenn lifted a hand, a cold smile on his lips.
"A king is made by the excellence of his retainers. If the Light Wind Squad defeats the Gold Peak Squad in this match, then perhaps the boy truly does possess a king's temperament."
"That's…"
Sheryl said nothing. She pressed her lips together. The memory of Raon catching her concealment today had risen unbidden, and she couldn't find the words. She hadn't poured any real power into hiding—but being detected at all had stung her pride.
"You still don't believe it, I see. Then shall you and I make a wager?"
"A w-wager, my lord?"
Sheryl's eyes flew wide. A compulsive gambler like Rimer was one thing. Glenn was not a man who said things like that.
Something is changing.
Before the afternoon's regular training began, Raon gathered the entire Light Wind Squad and stepped up onto the platform.
"Listen up."
He met the eyes of the swordsmen looking up at him, then spoke, unhurried.
"You're all aware the Gold Peak Squad has been picking fights with us lately. What they wanted was a duel. The squad leader and I accepted it."
"Nnh…"
"Hah…"
The swordsmen bit their lips or clenched their fists, unease written across their faces.
"Three months from now, we fight them in a group duel at the Great Training Ground. Thirty-five fighters. Whichever side takes more wins, wins."
"Um, sir…"
One of the Third Unit swordsmen raised a hand.
"What happens if we lose?"
"A two-year suspension of activities."
"Hhk—!"
"A s-suspension? For two years?"
The moment he said two years, the swordsmen's mouths fell open.
"A team match is fine, but can we actually beat the Gold Peak Squad?"
"They don't have any new swordsmen like us."
"Two years of suspension…"
"We're just getting started, and we're already finished!"
"Damn it…"
Their faces sank as if they had already lost.
"You morons! Why the hell are you barking like you've already lost? All of you shut your damn mouths!"
Marta spun around, grinding her teeth.
"She's right. We haven't even stepped up to the starting line, and you're already looking at the awards ceremony."
Burren nodded in agreement with Marta.
"……"
Runaan was, well, the same as always.
"I appreciate the backup, but unfortunately, no."
Raon looked at Marta and Burren and shook his head.
"If we fought right now, we would lose for certain. If we keep training the way we have been, we will still lose for certain three months from now."
"What?"
"W-what did you just—!"
"Hhk!"
"Then why did you accept the fight?!"
It wasn't only Burren and Marta. Every swordsman in the hall stared at him, eyes wide, and shouted.
Raon looked down at all of them, his gaze even.
"As we are now, it's a guaranteed loss. But if you train according to the plan the squad leader and I have put together, then three months from now every last one of you will be able to put those Gold Peak dregs in the dirt."
"A plan?"
"I-is that true, sir?"
"All of us can beat the Gold Peak Squad in three months?"
"That's right. Follow the plan we've laid out, and I'll make sure you can win."
The certainty in Raon's voice lit up the swordsmen's faces. It was only natural. Until now, Raon had never lied to them and never failed them. Their trust in him had already been built.
"Then what are you waiting for? Let's get started!"
"What's this systematic plan of yours?"
"Vice-commander!"
The thought of getting stronger fast had them beaming as they called out to him.
"So you're all agreeing to follow my plan, then?"
"Yes, sir!"
The answer was loud enough to shake the training ground.
"I like those smiles. Then we'll start right now."
Raon grinned and stepped down from the platform.
Steel whispered as he drew his sword and pointed it at Burren, who was standing at the very front.
"Hhk?"
"W-what's this?"
"You said we were going to train, so why the sword…"
It wasn't only Burren. Every one of them swallowed hard, thrown completely off balance.
"Your training is sparring with me. Every day. Every hour. So prepare yourselves."
"Huh? Huhhh?"
"S-sparring? With the vice-commander?"
"He's insane. You want us to spar with the man who beat an apostle?!"
The swordsmen's lips trembled as if the whole idea were absurd.
"And how is this a systematic plan?! All we do is fight every day—that's just brute-force sparring!"
"You get stronger the more you fight. What could possibly be more systematic than that?"
"Th-that's not what the word systematic is for…"
"Besides, you already agreed to follow my plan. There's nowhere to run."
At Raon's chilly smile, the faces of the Light Wind Squad went deathly pale. They had just realized they had walked into the jaws of a beast they could not escape.
I'll kill you. No—I'll make you strong.
"Did you not just say you would kill them?"
You're imagining things.