The Beast Unmasked
Raon swallowed as he stared at Siria.
Is that his true face?
Whether even the rage and the dryness had been an act, the face beneath the shattered mask was twisted to a grotesque extreme. It didn't look human. It looked like a beast that had crawled out of the wild.
A starving beast, at that.
Not a shred of reason lived in those glistening purple eyes. Only a vicious savagery and hunger burned there like wildfire.
He might just come at us.
Raon adjusted his grip on the Heavenly Sky Sword. He had never seen Siria like this, which meant the man's next move was impossible to predict. He could lunge at Runaan—or at Raon himself. They had to be ready.
"Hmm."
Sheryl seemed to share the same thought. She stepped up beside him, her eyes narrowing.
"Runaan..."
Siria called her name in a voice far more viscous than usual.
"What did you just say?"
He leaned his hips back and craned his torso forward in a bizarre posture, looking down at her. A dank, clammy aura crawled up over his shoulders.
"I-I told you not to come."
Runaan did not back down, even meeting those chilling eyes.
"I'm going to stop you, Brother. I won't just sit still like I used to!"
Her hands, clasped tight against her chest, were trembling—but she finished every word she meant to say.
"Haaaah..."
A plume of white breath spilled from Siria's mouth.
"You're going to stop me? Stop me, you say..."
"Ugh!"
An aura thick with omen washed over her, and Runaan's legs buckled.
"Well said."
Raon moved in beside her and caught her by the shoulder, the Heavenly Sky Sword raised to a middle guard, ready to answer in an instant.
"Runaan. Ahh, my little sister..."
Siria did not so much as glance at Raon. His eyes were only for Runaan, his mouth stretching wide.
"Since when? Since when did you start looking at me with those eyes? How dare you look at me with those cold eyes!"
A grotesque laugh spilled out of him as he reached for her with a splayed hand.
"Get lost."
Raon smashed the Mad Fang Sword into the approaching Siria.
A ringing crash split the air. Siria caught the blow on his reverse-gripped greatsword, but the impact still drove him all the way back to where he had started.
"Runaan. My Runaan, making a face like that. Ahh..."
"The loser was told to get lost."
Siria gathered himself to charge again—and Sheryl moved. She rolled lightly off the ground, closed the distance, and drove her right fist forward.
A gray flash detonated. Siria never even got a chance to guard. He bounced like a rubber ball and slammed into the dirt, the power behind that unprepared punch almost impossible to believe.
Fast. And strong.
Sheryl's strike had speed, weight, and precision all braided into it. To harmonize every one of those principles in a single instant and throw a fist—no wonder she was a Grandmaster.
"Kh..."
Blood ran from Siria's lip; the shock had been that severe. Runaan watched, her own lip caught hard between her teeth.
"There is no place here for a loser. Disappear, as you promised."
Raon leveled his sword at Siria, his gaze gone cold.
"Runaan. You and I share the same blood."
Siria staggered to his feet and looked down at her.
"You cannot run from this blood. You cannot escape it."
He wet his lips with the blood that had spilled from his mouth and grinned.
"Ah..."
Runaan's eyes shook violently. Terror was blooming in them, as if she had been thrown back to the days before she had overcome that blood.
"I-I..."
"You can."
Raon stepped in beside her, his eyes narrowing.
"You can run from it. You can escape it. Or you can beat him into the ground."
"Raon Zieghart..."
At those words, Siria's gaze turned toward Raon for the first time.
"Look closely. That thing is just a human who bleeds. You don't need to be afraid of him. One day you'll break him with your own sword."
"You actually think that's possible?"
"I'll make it possible."
"You..."
The weight of will in Raon's voice made Siria's jaw tremble.
"Raon."
Runaan's hands had stopped shaking. She closed them into fists and looked not at Siria, but at Raon.
"Runaan! What are you looking at! Look at me! Not at him—at me..."
"I said get lost."
Siria lunged to drag her gaze back, and Raon ignited the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames.
The blazing edge of the Heavenly Sky Sword smashed into Siria a second time as he came in with the greatsword.
"Krhhhh..."
Driven back with his greatsword rammed into the ground, Siria let out a groan.
"You keep getting in the way..."
"Siria Sullion."
He started forward, murder boiling off him—and a terrifying wave of force erupted from the right, as if a volcano had just gone off.
"Take one more step and I will cut you down."
Sheryl planted herself in front of him, a hand resting on the sword strapped across her back.
"Keep the words you spoke."
Whether she meant it or not, a chilling frost spilled from her eyes.
"You lost, so disappear. There is no place for you here."
Raon ran the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames at full polarity and locked his stare on Siria.
"Fine. Fine."
Siria looked from Raon to Runaan and grinned. For the first time, even his eyes were smiling—but it was not a human smile. It was a demon's.
"Khheheheh..."
He hung his head and giggled for a long time before he finally straightened.
"That's enough..."
"You lost, so leaving is the correct thing to do."
Raon was about to force him out when Siria lifted his head. In that brief span he had already pulled the thick mask back on, and a false smile sat on his face once more.
"I'll leave, as promised. Runaan. May fortune attend your journey."
"We don't need your fortune."
Raon flicked a hand at him.
"Heh."
Siria snorted a laugh and turned his back. He even offered a farewell to the warriors of House Yonan, then left as if he had nothing left to linger for.
"Ahh..."
Only then did Runaan sink to the ground, breathing hard.
"You held on well."
Raon smiled and patted her shoulder.
"Mm."
She nodded weakly, but her eyes were brighter than they had ever been.
"So that's the true face of the Spearblade."
Sheryl watched Siria's retreating back, her eyes narrowing.
"I figured he was hiding a lot, but it's worse than I thought. He's practically a lunatic."
She helped Runaan up as the girl caught her breath, and let out a dry laugh.
"He is."
"Anyway, well done. That child finding her courage was thanks to you, I expect."
Sheryl clapped him on the back as if to say he'd done well, and smiled. It was almost the first time he had seen her smile, and it felt less crisp than it did kind.
"That is no mere lunatic."
Wrath wrinkled his snout.
"He is a pervert-soaked madman. If This King still had a body, I would have frozen him solid and carved him limb from limb!"
He shook a bunched fist as if the missed opportunity genuinely pained him.
"Even in the Demon Realm, specimens like that are rare. To think a human this deranged existed..."
There are more like him?
"Among the Demon Kings as well. Ugh..."
Wrath shuddered at the mere thought.
Demon Kings, huh...
"Stop wasting thought on that and look at the Ice Cream Girl."
Wrath latched onto Raon's shoulder before he could ask anything further.
Hm?
"The Ice Cream Girl is struggling. You should comfort her at once."
She stood up on her own. Wouldn't praise be more appropriate than comfort?
"No. This is a hard moment, so she needs comfort. Delicious comfort, at that."
...Delicious?
"Go to the Bead Ice Cream Shop this instant and buy the girl ice cream. That is the finest comfort there is!"
Wrath flapped his hands, urging him to hurry.
That isn't comfort. That's just you wanting to eat.
Raon sighed.
"A little. Only a very little. But This King is thinking of the child. Sweet things lift the spirits, and the gloom will lift with them."
Hmm...
Come to think of it, he had heard Helen say something like that once—that eating something sweet made you feel better.
"Let's go."
Raon walked over to Runaan and held out a hand.
"Where?"
She looked up, her eyes gone vacant again.
"No reason to cancel our plans just because of that guy."
"Ah..."
"Heavenly Sword Squad Leader, you should come too. My treat."
He helped Runaan to her feet and looked at Sheryl.
"Me too?"
Perhaps because this was a hot region, the Bead Ice Cream Shop in Dembel City was far larger than the one in Camelun.
Dozens of flavors of bead ice cream packed the space behind the glass, and desserts made from ice cream sat on display in a long, glittering row.
"So many. So big..."
Runaan rolled wide, vacant eyes over the ice cream beyond the glass.
"Mmm. All of it looks good."
Sheryl had pressed herself right up against the window as well, studying the ice-cream desserts. Given that she always made a point of eating even a small piece of chocolate after meals, she clearly had a taste for this sort of thing.
"Kh!"
Wrath sniffled as he looked at Runaan's back.
"How admirable! Truly admirable!"
What?
"The Ice Cream Girl cracked her own shell and stepped out of it! This King wants to pat her on the shoulder, she is so admirable!"
His blue eyes welled as he nodded.
"This King had intended to chew that perverted bastard to pieces, but you were right. It was proper that the Ice Cream Girl overcome him herself. A fine thing."
Wrath watched Runaan with a warmth that was almost fond.
Hmm...
Raon clicked his tongue.
Is this thing really a Demon King?
Even setting aside the sucker streak that showed itself now and then—no, often—he no longer felt like a Demon King so much as a nosy uncle. Or aunt.
"Seeing the Ice Cream Girl stand on her own, This King's belly feels full without eating."
Then I guess there's no ice cream for you.
"Silence!"
Wrath flapped a hand as if the joke were not funny in the slightest.
"This King is hungry! Go this instant and order every ice cream in this shop!"
So you did want to come here to eat.
"That is not— This King..."
Wrath was winding up a protest that bordered on a tantrum when a message rose before Raon's eyes.
You have achieved an even match against an overwhelmingly superior enemy.
All stats have increased by 6 points.
Your mastery of the Heavy Sword has greatly increased.
He had fought Siria—whose level was far beyond his own—to a draw, and the system had answered with a surge in his stats and his Heavy Sword.
Six points?
Six whole points for a draw. Siria really had been that strong. A sour mood had still been clinging to him, but the moment he saw the message, the irritation vanished.
"Urgh..."
Wrath, who had been bouncing around about ice cream, snapped his eyes so wide they looked ready to pop from his head.
"This stupid system! That perverted bastard did not even use his full strength, so why are you raising his stats! This is an unjust ruling!"
He ground his teeth over a match that had been held back—and a draw, at that—being rewarded with stat points.
Because I won a fight I was supposed to lose.
Raon snorted. Even if Siria hadn't used everything he had, it had still been a fight stacked heavily against him.
It had been a victory of strategy and split-second judgment. A reward like this spilling out was nothing strange.
"Khhng! This King's appetite has vanished entirely!"
Wrath jerked his head away, thoroughly displeased.
"Raon, what are you getting?"
Runaan had already picked ten flavors and was still deliberating. She turned and called back to him.
He said he lost his appetite. I'm not eating.
"Huh? Huuuh?"
Raon waved Wrath off and looked at Runaan.
"Ah, I lost my appetite, so..."
"Mint chocolate!"
The same Wrath who had just claimed his appetite was gone bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Say mint chocolate!"
You said you lost your appetite...
"Mint chocoooooolate!"
Atop the northern wall of Dembel City.
Siria Sullion watched Runaan and Raon leave the ice cream shop, heat rolling in his eyes.
"Lord Siria."
A man whose entire body was hidden in a white robe approached from behind and bowed his head.
"The others have already arrived in the vicinity. It is time you departed."
"Do I really have to go as well?"
"There is also something we must obtain from him. This time, we need to finish it for certain."
The robed man's eyes narrowed as he followed Siria's gaze to Runaan and Raon.
"He'll die to the White Blood Cult even if we leave him alone. But if you give the word, I will draw up a plan to eliminate Raon Zieghart."
"No."
Siria shook his head, slow and lazy.
"Leave him. I saw something truly wonderful today."
"S-something wonderful, you say..."
The robed man lifted his head a fraction. The madness threaded through Siria's voice was overflowing on a scale that could not be compared to usual.
"Runaan. I never expected that child to show me eyes like that. It was beautiful. The moment I was reflected in those clear purple irises, a shiver ran down my spine."
Siria dug the nails of his right hand into his left arm until he drew blood, and grinned.
"To make a face like that at me. To look at me with those eyes. Ahh. How fine it was."
"L-Lord Siria?"
The robed man swallowed, his jaw trembling.
"You see, I used to think an apple should be grown inside a glass bottle. Protected from pests, from rain—raised with the utmost care."
Siria smacked his lips and went on with that grotesque thought.
"But I was wrong. Once it leaves the bottle, takes real sunlight, and fights the pests... it overflows with life. Just looking at it makes my heart tremble. So."
He turned and covered the robed man's mouth with his hand.
"Y-yes!"
The robed man could not even form a thought. He only nodded. He had served Siria for more than ten years, and he had never seen him radiate madness like this.
"The faster Runaan grows, the better it is for me. In the end, that child will end up in my hands."
Siria watched Runaan eat her ice cream, a faint smile on her face, and tore his mouth wide enough to touch his ears.
A low, grinding hum rolled out of him. Then Runaan vanished from sight, and the madness bleeding off Siria slowly settled.
"Huu..."
He evened his breathing and turned, unhurried. The monster who had been unable to hide his excitement a moment ago was gone. In his place stood Spearblade Siria Sullion, the man the world praised.
"Let's go."
Siria smiled, light and pleasant, and dusted off his clothes.
"If we're going to humor those old men, we ought to at least block the road."
The next day.
Raon looked up at the four-horse carriage standing before the main gate of House Yonan.
"Incredible."
The exterior wove straight lines and curves into an elegant beauty. Inside, shock-dampening devices cut the sway of the road, and its durability outstripped steel.
Michelle Yonan, the matriarch herself, had built it. Looking at the form and the fittings, it seemed like the only carriage of its kind in the world, made for Encia.
The love in it for her daughter made it even more beautiful.
"Whoa! That carriage is something else. House Yonan, all right."
Dorian wriggled his fingers as he stared at it. If no one had been watching, he looked ready to stuff the whole thing into his pouch.
"Raon. Are we really allowed to take these?"
Burren pointed at the round pendant hanging at his throat.
"An anti-poison artifact of this grade isn't something you can buy even if you have the money."
"Mm..."
"He's right. It's a little much."
Marta and Crain eyed their own anti-poison artifacts, frowning.
"Just use them well and return them when we get back. Don't let it weigh on you."
Raon smiled and waved it off. These pieces would have to be returned anyway. The real rewards would come after the mission was over.
"Prepare to depart!"
Sheryl and Michelle were coming down from the inner building, supporting Encia between them. Encia's expression had brightened, if only a little, as if she had fully accepted reality.
"Yes!"
"Understood!"
The Light Wind Squad and the Heavenly Sword Squad answered in a roar, checked the carriage, and swung up onto their horses.
"Are you all right?"
Raon approached Encia and looked her over.
"Yes. I'm all right now."
She answered with a double meaning and smiled faintly.
"If anything feels wrong, tell me at once."
"Thank you. You're insanely handsome today, too."
Encia paused halfway into the carriage and stared blankly at Raon's face.
"Would you stop that already!"
"Mom! Just a little longer looking at Lord Raon's face..."
"You can look later!"
Michelle scowled and shoved Encia into the carriage herself.
Raon watched the bickering mother and daughter and smiled faintly. Fortunately, the two of them seemed to have overcome a betrayal from someone who had been like family.
"Now it begins."
He looked up at a blue sky that seemed to wish them a safe journey, and closed his hand around the pendant Michelle had given him.
Every preparation is in place.
Come whenever you like. Robert's dogs.
"We camp here tonight."
Sheryl dismounted and pointed to a clearing at the forest's edge. It wasn't particularly wide, but it was a decent place to spend a night.
"Prepare the camp!"
"Yes!"
At her order, the swordsmen of the Heavenly Sword Squad scattered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Hmm?"
Encia stepped down from the carriage and narrowed her eyes at the Heavenly Sword Squad bustling about, and at the Light Wind Squad, who were taking their time getting ready to train.
"That's strange. I thought the Heavenly Sword Squad were the seniors."
"They are. By a long way."
Dorian came over to her, smiling.
"They are? Then why is only the Heavenly Sword Squad doing the work?"
"Ah, there was this really funny incident. Our vice-captain..."
He launched into the story of the arm-wrestling match that had happened before.
"Wow. He's handsome, and smart, and handsome, and strong too?"
Encia clasped her hands together and looked at Raon with shining, moved eyes.
"It's not that big a deal."
"The hell it isn't. You're ridiculously damn handsome."
Strangely, vulgar language only popped out of her when she was calling him handsome. She was a curious person in more ways than one.
"How is your body?"
"Better than when I was at home."
Encia showed him an arm where the heat had settled, and beamed.
"That's a relief. I'll take a look around the area for a bit."
Raon turned and called to the Light Wind Squad.
"No fooling around. Keep the watch tight."
"Don't worry."
"Mm."
"You don't trust me?"
"Yeees, sir!"
He took in the wildly different answers of his swordsmen and headed into the forest.
He spent about thirty minutes sweeping the surroundings for anything that might become a threat, but this close to Dembel City there were no bandits and no monsters in sight.
Might as well swing a sword while I'm here.
Sheryl and Econ were at the campsite. Loosening up out here before he went back wouldn't be a bad idea.
"Does it not bore you?"
Wrath frowned, as if he genuinely could not understand.
Bored? I find it fun.
Growing. Moving forward. Those were things he had never experienced in his previous life, so of course they were a joy.
Raon shoved the grumbling Wrath aside and drew the Heavenly Sky Sword.
Start with the Heavy Sword.
The feel of the Heavy Sword that had driven Siria back was still vivid in his hands. He lifted the blade, chasing that sensation again.
Heavy. Heavier than anything.
He packed the energy of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames into the edge of the Heavenly Sky Sword and brought it down.
A vast pressure rolled off that thin blade, and the earth it had not even touched collapsed in on itself.
"Still not enough."
Whether it was because his mastery of the Heavy Sword had risen, or because this wasn't a real fight, the strike felt lacking.
He just didn't yet know what, exactly, that lack was.
He raised the sword again to bring the Heavy Sword down—and a low footstep sounded. It was a familiar one, so he turned his head without alarm.
"Training, is it."
Sheryl was approaching, her gaze indifferent.
"Yes."
Raon nodded and lowered the Heavenly Sky Sword.
"I wanted to find the feel I had when I fought Siria."
"That wasn't bad, in its way."
Sheryl nodded, her tone even.
"But it's short of what you'd call intermediate."
"I know. It's just..."
"You don't know exactly what's missing?"
"That's right."
"Then I'll tell you what you lack."
A gleam kindled in Sheryl's eyes, which had been so still.
"Draw your sword."