The Three Pledges Fulfilled

Raon looked into Dokoe's wide, staring eyes and smiled faintly.

Interesting.

Dokoe's Sword Realm Manifestation was nothing like Rimer's. It wasn't an enhancement type that amplified the power of a blade. It was a trap — a construct that forged a pitch-black space and drove invisible blades into whatever positions he chose.

I never imagined a Sword World like this even existed.

From the front, Dokoe would rain down phantom blades just barely within the range of what an opponent could block. From behind, he would manifest the black blades he'd planted in advance and carve into his opponent's weak points. In a world where one's senses had been dulled, it was a method no one could hope to escape.

Raon had assumed Sword Worlds only strengthened the body, aura, or elemental attributes. He'd never imagined one existed solely to deceive an enemy.

He's consistent, I'll give him that.

A martial artist of Dokoe's caliber could have forged a far more powerful Sword World. That he'd instead created one designed to mock his opponent only proved he was a gambler down to the marrow of his bones.

Thanks to that, Raon had begun to grasp what a Sword World truly was.

A Sword World wasn't a simple technique like swordsmanship or footwork. It was the current of a life itself — the distillation of a martial artist's nature and every footprint of the path they had walked.

Not me. Not yet.

Whether from a lack of experience, he still couldn't see that current. But time would solve it. There was no need to regret it now.

"You've figured it all out? All fourteen blades?"

Dokoe's face crumpled like rotting bark, irritation flickering across his features. Having read the man's expressions through their gambling and drinking contests, Raon caught the faintest hint of awkwardness buried in that scowl.

Focus.

This wasn't over yet.

He'd uncovered the secret of the Sword World and now stood on the same plane as Dokoe. No — to be precise, he was still at a severe disadvantage. He remained trapped inside the Sword World, and all he'd managed so far was to stop the bleeding.

To win, I have to use those black blades ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠against him.

Even now, Dokoe was hiding one more trick — and Raon had already seen through it. He needed to play ignorant, wait for his opening, and end it in a single stroke.

"Good. Very good."

Dokoe bit down on his lip. A faint tremor ran through his voice, laced with excitement and anticipation.

"But I'll show you that knowing it changes nothing!"

Darkness carried him forward. In a single instant he closed the distance and brought his sword down. The blade, steeped in the principles of phantom swordsmanship, spiraled as it rose, batting aside dozens of edges. The pressure was like dozens of military officers thrusting their spears at vital points all at once.

A deep, resonant hum filled the dark.

Raon dropped into a deep stance. He slipped past the black blade hovering directly above his head, then drew the energy of Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation to its absolute peak.

The crimson glow upon the blade spread as if riding the wind. Like petals falling at the moment of their most brilliant bloom, more than a hundred blades of flaming Ganggi flooded the darkened space.

The pitch-black blades and the streams of flame collided, and a colossal explosion tore through the barrier. The shock was enough to make the entire realm heave; Raon and Dokoe were hurled backward at the same instant.

Even as he was thrown, Raon kept the planted black blades in mind.

Lower right. Mid-left. Two more on the diagonal.

He turned with the flexibility of a reed in an autumn wind, slipping past the black blades that filled the space.

Dokoe, irritated at having gained nothing yet again, drove his body straight through the aftershock of the blast and sent his sword flying. His massive frame and that razor edge closed the distance in a heartbeat, filling Raon's vision to the tip of his nose.

A high, keening ring split the air.

One blade became two. Two became four. Four became eight. In a fraction of a second, Raon's entire field of view was packed with Dokoe's swords.

What a vicious sword art.

Even setting aside his dulled senses, the speed and realism with which those phantom blades multiplied made the swordsmanship of Raden Zieghart and Garon Zieghart look like children's games.

I have to smash through it!

He resonated the Ring of Fire and laid his sword sideways. Then he drove a thunderous stomp into the ground, as if to shatter the barrier itself, and surged forward.

A heavy resonance rolled out. A crimson sphere bloomed before the sword tip he'd launched like a flash of light, condensing an enormous surge of power.

The phantom blades Dokoe had created were dragged inward by the Heavy Heavenly Cannon's gravitational pull, and for an instant the darkness peeled away.

"This—!"

Dokoe's eyes flew wide as he tried to tear himself free of the pull — and in that instant, Raon detonated the Cannon.

Hundreds of blades and the condensed Ganggi of blazing heat exploded together. The Sword World swelled as if it were about to burst.

A rumbling aftershock of Ganggi rose from the collision of those two forces, a pitch-black maw yawning open toward Raon and Dokoe alike.

Raon threw himself into the storm without a shred of hesitation. Dokoe kicked off the ground just as hard.

Inside a tempest that would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have shredded flesh at the slightest misstep, the two swordsmen hurled enormous strikes at one another.

Steel screamed. Sparks tore through the dark.

Raon clashed blades with Dokoe, slipped the Ganggi pouring from the storm, and deflected the black blades that sought his limbs. The sense of fighting three people at once soaked through his entire body — and yet, strangely, he found himself smiling.

This is fun.

He was running the Ring of Fire, Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation, and Glacia at their absolute limits, wringing his mind until it felt ready to split just to predict Dokoe's movements — and still he was enjoying it. The joy of pouring out everything he had put strength into his grip.

"You're laughing? Here?"

"It's strangely enjoyable."

He knocked aside the phantom blade aiming for his shoulder with Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation's Revolving Heaven, then drew his left foot back and rendered two of the black blades useless.

He surrendered his body to the dying storm of Ganggi. Spiral rotational force poured into the Heavenly Sky Sword, raising a frost dragon's whirlwind.

Dokoe swept up the sword he'd been aiming downward. Blades overlapped at the tip of his edge, and a cluster of pitch-black iron flowers bloomed.

The silver storm and the cluster of iron flowers collided, detonating a roar so loud it stung the ears.

"You really are a pain in the ass!"

Dokoe split the shimmer of Ganggi and thrust. The tip of his blade wavered endlessly, making it nearly impossible to tell where he was aiming.

A deep hum gathered.

He had no sensory perception — but he had the Ring of Fire. Raon wrenched his concentration so high it felt as if his mind would burn, accelerating the speed of his cognition.

Left!

In a field of vision that had slowed to a crawl, the direction of Dokoe's blade became visible. Right chest. He was going for the lung.

Raon set the Heavenly Sky Sword on its side like rainwater sliding off a roof, knocked Dokoe's blade aside, and immediately spun his own.

A scraping hiss. Flames surged up the Heavenly Sky Sword as it tore along the floor, and the fangs of the Mad Fang Sword rode those flames. A vicious edge raked across Dokoe's thigh.

Dokoe laid his sword flat to defend, but the savage force packed into the Heavenly Sky Sword drove him stumbling backward.

"Kh—!"

His pride wounded, he let out a thin groan and bared his teeth like a beast.

A low rumble of gathering power. Raon put his weight into the big toe of his left foot and dropped his hips. He ran Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation and Glacia until his dantian ached, then exploded his coiled muscles like a snapped rubber band and burst forward.

I have to end it here.

A grave light settled in Raon's eyes.

This was the decisive moment.

Dokoe watched Raon charge toward him with fire in his eyes, and forced the strength out of his own hands. He kept the startled look on his face and took three more steps back.

Remarkable.

Plenty of people had seen through the secret of this space. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠But no one had ever mapped the position of every blade this quickly.

Skill worthy of the continent's Youngest Master.

He was starting to understand why powerhouses like Rimer shouted Raon's name and looked to his future. The skill itself was unlike anyone else's. This boy, who so resembled the current head of the house, had the talent to soar above the heavens.

But he's still too hasty.

His martial power, his judgment, his cunning — all of it was outstanding. But he was young, and that youth left him unfinished.

Raon believed there were fourteen black blades hidden in this barrier. The actual number was different. The blades planted in the darkness totaled sixteen — two more than he had predicted.

Well. That was the point.

Dokoe had made him think that on purpose.

To make Raon mistake the planted blades for fourteen, Dokoe had shown him the faces of the dice before the blades had even appeared. From that single display, Raon would have concluded that fourteen blades were installed here.

But that was the con. From the very beginning, sixteen blades had been driven into this barrier, with no connection to the dice at all.

One of them was aimed at the right shoulder of the charging Raon. The other was aimed at his left ankle.

Even in defeat, he'll learn something.

The finest talent on the continent, without question — but far too young and unfinished to earn Dokoe's recognition. In a few years, perhaps. He would not throw a match today.

Come.

Anticipating the look on Raon's face when the boy who thought he'd seen through every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trick walked straight into one, Dokoe lowered his sword.

A rush of displaced air.

Raon, seemingly oblivious, arrived in front of the fifteenth black blade. In the instant the pitch-black edge was about to punch into his shoulder, his body vanished like smoke. He turned in midair, slipped the sixteenth blade as well, and closed the distance like a bolt of lightning.

A deep, drowning hum. The moment Dokoe met Raon's crimson eyes — sunken as deep as the ocean floor — every hair on his body stood on end.

Th-this bastard knew!

Those composed eyes. That perfect evasion. The boy had known from the start that there were sixteen hidden blades.

"Not a chance!"

Dokoe clenched his teeth. That Raon had mapped even those last blades was staggering — but he'd had enough time to prepare. He moved to block the descending crimson blade, and Raon's left hand went to his waist.

A dull grinding, like wood being planed away, and a crimson dagger came free, scattering streams of frost.

A sword-cry erupted at the same instant. A bizarre wail — at once clear and unearthly, laced with a bewitching energy — burst forth like a thunderclap.

"Wh-what—!"

Dokoe's eyes flew wide. He had never expected Raon to draw a dagger he'd never used, nor to unfold a sound-based martial art with it. His reaction came a beat too late.

The eerie sword-cry did not miss that sliver of an instant. It burrowed into his ears like a thunderbolt.

A frost-laden roar detonated inside his ear canal, and his sense of balance shattered. His vision spun. His body would not find its center.

Raon had been waiting for that gap from the beginning. He drew the Heavenly Sky Sword in a motion as natural as flowing water. Flame seethed along the silver edge and split the darkness as it fell.

"You bastard!"

Dokoe roared. He seized his collapsing body with aura, forcing it upright, and swung at the approaching Raon.

The crimson blade and the black blade crossed on a diagonal, unleashing a massive shock.

The two of them bounced apart like rubber balls.

"Kh—!"

Dokoe drove his sword into the ground to stop himself. Raon, even in the middle of all that, rolled across the floor, still dodging black blades.

"Hah."

Raon staggered to his feet. Blood ran from a long sword-wound split across his chest.

"You knew there were sixteen black blades?"

Dokoe's face twisted, his eyes gone murderous.

"Well. That's right."

Raon nodded, clutching the wound on his chest.

"How…"

"I was certain the moment I saw this Sword World. That you're a gambler to the bone."

"Hnh…"

"A gambler like you would never fail to roll an eighteen. I figured the number you showed me at the start was a fake."

Dokoe was a man who could make three dice show a one. There was no chance someone like that would throw a fourteen in a contest this important. The dice had been a trap from the beginning.

"So you knew I was cheating, and…"

"Yes. I pretended to fall for it. The best moment to deceive an enemy is when he's busy running a trick of his own."

"Nnh. And the blades — how did you find them? There's no way you mapped them from the wounds alone."

"With this."

Raon lifted the Requiem Sword, which was still howling.

"I used the sword-cry to find the blades you'd hidden."

"The sword-cry? Th-then every time you set it off…"

"Yes. Not to fight. To find the hidden swords. Unlike my sensory perception, my hearing was still intact."

"You found them all and still put on that act…"

"Isn't the one who falls for it the fool?"

Raon smiled faintly. Dokoe had been so busy thinking about how to deceive him that he hadn't seen Raon's deception at all — and that was how this result had come about.

"That line again…"

Dokoe bit his lip.

"Did someone put a sword through that skull of yours? How does a brat your age make calls like that?"

He had rolled across the continent and fought countless duels, but he had never met anyone as sharp at mind games as Raon. He couldn't understand how a boy raised so carefully in a garden of sunlight and water could be sharper at deception than the weeds that crawled through back alleys.

"My blood doesn't come cheap. I collect on the Blood Price."

Raon snorted a quiet laugh and pointed at Dokoe's chest.

"Haa…"

Dokoe closed his eyes. He let out a long breath and nodded.

"Fine. After taking a loss like this, refusing to admit it would just be ugly."

The moment he acknowledged it, a surge of crimson blood burst from his chest. The wound he'd been holding shut with aura had torn open.

A low resonance hummed through the melting dark. For the first time, Dokoe drew a smile that held his true feelings.

Raon narrowed his eyes against a sudden burst of light. As if night had passed and the sun had risen, the darkness receded, and they were back in the original back alley.

"V-Vice Captain!"

Dorian came running in a panic. The moment he saw the wounds covering Raon's body, his eyes trembled like aspen leaves.

"Your wounds are terrible!"

"I'm not hurt that badly."

Raon shook his head. Dokoe had held back, and that was why it had ended without a serious injury. If the man had truly meant him harm, it would have been genuinely dangerous.

"Raon! You did it! I believed in you!"

Sharp-eyed as ever, Rimer spotted the wound that had opened on Dokoe's chest and let out a cheer.

"I knew it — betting on Raon is a guaranteed win! O god of fortune!"

He pressed his palms together and closed his eyes as if in prayer.

"Hah. I still don't understand how someone like you came out from under an idiot like that."

Dokoe clicked his tongue at Rimer. He wiped the blood welling from his wound, then pulled a pale salve from his coat and smeared it on.

"You use it too."

He tossed it over with the lid already off.

"It's a wound salve called Truefirm. A cut like that will heal without any trouble."

"Thank you."

Raon nodded and applied the salve to the chest wound that had just opened. A cool sensation spread through it, and the pain dropped off sharply. It was clearly an expensive medicine.

"I appreciate it."

He finished dressing the sizable wound and held the Truefirm Salve out to Dokoe.

"There isn't much left. Keep it."

Dokoe waved him off and rolled his shoulders.

"Gambling, drinking, and martial arts. On the name of Dokoe, I acknowledge your skill."

He stamped a foot and straightened his back. That huge frame, those fierce eyes — a formidable pressure rolled off a body that, unlike Raon's, still had strength to spare.

Dokoe stretched out a hand, wearing a cheerful smile that said it didn't matter what Raon asked for. It was the look of a man who, having given his acknowledgment, intended to honor it without fuss.

Not bad.

He was underhanded when he was running a con — but once he admitted a loss, he seemed the type to keep things clean.

"Th-this is a scene that'll go down in continental history…"

"Raon! I told you before. The most important thing in the world!"

Dorian's jaw trembled with awe. Rimer drew a circle in the air with his finger, clearly telling him to squeeze the man for more money.

"Hahh."

"Nnh!"

Dokoe's subordinates swallowed dryly, too tense to look away.

Raon took in every one of those stares and slid the Heavenly Sky Sword into its scabbard.

Asking for money would be fine. Asking him to teach me martial arts would be fine too. But…

He had already decided what he wanted from Dokoe while they were going through the Three Pledges.

There's a way to put him to the fullest possible use.

Raon grinned and looked at Dokoe.

"I…"