The Essence of the Illusion Sword
Dokoe approached with weary steps. He set the sack of gold coins in his hand upon the platform and let out a ragged breath.
"That's the interest that idiot owes you."
He shoved the sack inward with a frown, as if the whole business displeased him.
"Hm."
Raon glanced at Rimer, who was sprawled on his back behind them, gasping for air.
Neither of them had revealed their true strength, of course. It seemed Rimer had yielded a step to Dokoe, who had only just arrived today.
"Thank you for your hard work."
Raon offered a faint smile and pushed the pouch of gold back.
"As we discussed, please use this as operating funds for the Light Wind Squad."
He handed over every last coin Dokoe had brought.
"You're not going to change your tune later, are you?"
"Of course not."
Dokoe was a man who knew how to make money grow. Left in his hands, that gold would multiply several times over and leave the Light Wind Squad wanting for nothing.
"You're a real pain in the ass from day one."
Dokoe ground his teeth and straightened his back.
"That idiot elf. He's gotten weaker, but somehow he's even more stubborn than a leech."
"You're no different, old man. You hung up your sword and you're falling apart with age, so how the hell did you get even stronger?"
Rimer pushed himself up with a snicker. His breathing had settled in the space of a heartbeat — both of them had clearly held plenty in reserve.
They had been forced into a fight neither of them wanted, yet neither looked particularly unhappy about it. If anything, a faint, satisfied smile lingered at the corners of their mouths.
"I moved as you instructed, so I'll be on my way. If I'm going to turn this beggar's den around, I've got a lot of work to—"
"Today's schedule hasn't even started yet."
"What?"
Dokoe's jaw trembled. His expressions when he wasn't gambling, it turned out, were surprisingly varied.
"Other matters are important, but the most urgent priority is raising the Light Wind Squad's combat strength."
Raon pointed to the squad members waiting in formation, their training preparations already complete.
"Training is about to begin. Where exactly does our instructor think he's going?"
"So you mean to wring this old man down to the marrow."
"I went to a lot of trouble to acquire a benefactor. I intend to put him to good use."
"Haaah."
Dokoe heaved a deep sigh and leaned his back against the platform. He folded his arms and gave a nod — the gesture of a man telling someone to get on with it.
"Thank you."
Raon bowed his head to Dokoe, then took his place before the Light Wind Squad.
"You've all seen our instructor's strength. This is the first time you'll be showing him yours, so give it everything you've got!"
"Yes, sir!"
The swordsmen had been in awe of Dokoe, who had displayed power that didn't yield an inch to Rimer. Their answering shout was loud enough to shake the training ground.
Raon smiled and drew his sword.
"Regular training begins now."
Raon finished the individual swordsmanship drills, the footwork, the aura-core circulation, and the situational-awareness exercises before approaching the platform.
Dokoe was still leaning against it in the exact same posture as when Raon had first seen him. Rimer lay sprawled across the top, groaning.
"What did you think?"
"They're all around your age, I take it?"
"That's right."
"Not bad, in their own way. Those three in particular are decent."
Dokoe jerked his chin toward Burren, Runaan, and Marta in turn, nodding.
"Once they mature, they'll be vessels capable of making their names known across the entire continent."
As expected, he had taken the measure of the squad leaders at a glance.
"The rest of them aren't bad either. Even for Zieghart, they have outstanding power and experience for their age."
He offered a surprisingly precise assessment of the remaining swordsmen as well, calling them more than adequate.
"Teaching those brats shouldn't be too boring. But..."
Dokoe looked Raon up and down, his eyes narrowing.
"What the hell are you?"
"Pardon?"
"You grew up with those kids. So how did you alone turn into a monster like that?"
"I'm not particularly a mon—"
"A lunatic who reached Low-rank Master at eighteen isn't a monster? Then what the hell is?"
He waved a hand as if to say don't make him laugh.
"That's thanks to me, obviously."
Rimer, who had been rolling around on the platform, popped his head up. Perhaps because he'd been stripped of his money, his face looked distinctly thinner.
"This body taught him well, which is why Raon became that kind of brute of a monster."
"Don't make me laugh. How could a beggar like you raise a monster like that?"
"I'm serious! Right, Raon?"
"He's not wrong."
Raon smiled faintly and nodded. From swordsmanship to aura, and even to mindset — gambling aside, Rimer had been a genuinely excellent teacher.
"You were acting like a demon earlier, and now you're minding your manners. I can't tell which one is the real you."
"I've always minded my manners."
"Hmph. You rolled your manners up in a stew bowl and ate them!"
Dokoe unfolded his arms and snorted.
"I've seen what I needed to see. I'll think about the training you lot require."
He pushed off the platform as if to leave and rolled his neck.
"You haven't seen my swordsmanship yet."
"I saw more than enough of your sword yesterday. I've got nothing to teach you, so figure it out yourself."
"Then may I ask just one thing?"
Raon stepped into Dokoe's path as he tried to leave, his gaze turning grave.
"Go on."
"What is the Illusion Sword?"
"Mm..."
Dokoe closed his eyes and furrowed his brow.
"Haaah. Even your questions are a pain in the ass."
A sigh escaped him on its own. If the boy had asked to be taught the Illusion Sword, or how to execute it well, or what its important elements were, that would have been easy. Instead, the brat had driven a question straight through the heart of Dokoe's entire life. It was a genuinely difficult thing to answer.
"I think of it as an illusion shown to the enemy."
"An illusion?"
"No matter how dazzling or magnificent a sword art may be, its purpose is ultimately the enemy's life. You show their eyes an illusion that does not exist in reality — and then you take their head. That is the Illusion Sword."
"The enemy's gaze..."
"Those who first learn the Illusion Sword — no, even those who have trained it for a long time — make the same mistake."
Dokoe drew his sword. Without so much as a ready stance, the blade unfurled in a circling arc, blooming into the beautiful petals of a serrated flower.
"Like this."
He recovered the sword and cocked his chin to the side.
"The essence of the Illusion Sword, as I see it, is not thinking about my own swordsmanship — but considering how that swordsmanship will look from the enemy's perspective."
"Mm."
Raon closed his eyes, still feeling the remnants of aura lingering in the air.
I understand what he means.
It felt as though his mind had been cracked open. Not himself, but the enemy. Thinking about what kind of illusion to show them, in what manner, with what intent — that was the true meaning of executing the finest Illusion Sword.
This could apply to other sword arts as well.
It was advice that could be applied not only to the Illusion Sword, but to the Swift Sword and other styles besides.
Dokoe's tone had been light, but within it was nested the profound principle of the Illusion Sword he had spent decades acquiring.
"It would be best to use a mirror, then."
"That's right. When learning the Illusion Sword, the thing you need most isn't a sword — it's a mirror."
"Thank you for the advice."
Raon bowed his head to Dokoe with genuine respect. He hadn't expected counsel offered with such sincerity, and he was simply grateful.
"Forget it. It wasn't anything special."
"No. It was a tremendous help."
He bowed his head once more.
"Mm..."
The heartfelt thanks seemed to sit well with him. Dokoe's previously brusque manner thawed, just a little.
"There's something I haven't told you either."
"What is it?"
"If you ever beat me at drinking or gambling, Chief Manager, I'll release you on the spot."
"Y-you mean that?"
"Of course."
Raon smiled.
"Then I'll do it right—"
"We just finished yesterday. Jumping straight into another round wouldn't be right. This year is over — challenge me next year."
"Nngh!"
Dokoe lowered the hand he had been about to raise and bit his lip.
Wrath climbed up onto the bracelet and let out a sigh.
"Hah."
"That old man has no chance of beating you at gambling or drinking. You tossed him hope as bait so the old geezer would throw himself into his role. You really are a vicious, vicious brat."
He shook his head as if in admiration.
"This King almost wants to take lessons from you on how you come up with these things. Care to give a lecture?"
Not a chance.
Raon chuckled and took another step toward Dokoe.
"One more thing."
He raised a finger and continued.
"If you ever feel I haven't lived up to your expectations, you're free to leave whenever you wish."
"Haven't lived up to my expectations?"
"Yes."
"By that logic, I could walk out right now?"
"Of course. But I know you won't."
Raon smiled faintly.
He's not that kind of man.
Dokoe used tricks at the gambling table and mocked his opponents, but he never imposed harsh penalties when they lost. He merely chased them out in their underclothes, and he kept giving them chances. Even when he fought, he never threatened anyone's life or struck a vital point. The fact that he had come here to keep his own word told Raon he was someone worth knowing as a person.
"Khrr."
Dokoe furrowed his brow as if he didn't like any of this. His ears had gone red.
"I really don't like you."
"I look forward to working with you."
Raon grinned and headed toward the Light Wind Squad to bring the training to a close.
Wrath bounced and shot up into the air.
"Ohh!"
"This time you're stealing his heart! As I thought, you're no human — a demon would suit you far better! This King—"
I'm really not.
Raon let out a dry laugh and shoved Wrath aside.
"That brat."
Dokoe watched Raon's retreating back and exhaled a murky breath.
"What the hell is he? Which one is the real him?"
The seasoned gambler he had seen at the table, the devil who had schemed against him here, and the polite, respectful young man he had just witnessed — they all seemed like different people. He could no longer tell which one was the real Raon Zieghart.
"They're all Raon."
Rimer waved a hand, as if this were old news.
"That's just how he is. From the way you're talking, it sounds like the old man took a liking to him too?"
He snickered and clapped Dokoe on the shoulder.
"Hmph! I don't care what a brat like that does."
Dokoe peeled himself off the platform with an irritated look.
"Staying here is suffocating. I'm leaving."
"Wait."
As he turned to go, Rimer caught his sleeve.
"You and I have somewhere to be."
"Somewhere to be?"
"The Head of House called for you."
Rimer pointed toward the Lord's Palace in the distance.
"Did you tell him?"
"Why would I go out of my way to do something that annoying? You came back — there's no way the Head of House wouldn't know."
"Mm. I suppose I ought to pay my respects."
Dokoe scratched his cheek, looking faintly embarrassed.
"Then you'd better be careful."
Rimer twirled a finger and grinned.
"He might be a little steamed."
"I present myself before the Head of House."
Dokoe dropped to one knee before Glenn Zieghart and bowed his head.
"It's been a long time."
Glenn took his chin off his hand and gave a slight nod.
"It seems many good things have come your way."
Dokoe rose with a grin.
"Good things?"
"You look far more full of life than you used to."
"Can I compare to a man who ran off declaring he would live however he pleased?"
Glenn shook his head with a cold smile.
"You said you wouldn't come back because it would stir up old memories. So why have you returned?"
"Haaah..."
Dokoe let out a deep sigh and looked up at Glenn.
"It's thanks to the Head of House having such an excellent grandson."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Raon Zieghart. That cheeky little—"
As if venting the resentment he'd suffered at Raon's hands, he laid out everything that had happened.
Rimer watched Dokoe pouring out his grievances and Glenn listening intently, and a faint smile touched his lips.
Dokoe has no idea why the Head of House is even listening to this.
Glenn already knew everything that had taken place. He wasn't curious about Dokoe's circumstances — he simply wanted to hear about Raon's exploits from Dokoe's own mouth.
What an extraordinary love for a grandson.
To treasure the boy that much while pushing him away on the surface — Glenn really was an extraordinary man in his own right.
"...And so, against my will, I became the Chief Manager of the Annex."
Dokoe heaved a sigh, looking embarrassed.
"Is the boy that good at gambling?"
Glenn asked, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
"Enough to knock the soul clean out of you. Even against a gambler whose name is known across the continent, he would never lose."
Dokoe muttered that he had felt true despair when he gambled against Raon.
"Then he certainly didn't learn it from that one."
Glenn pointed at Rimer, who was standing blankly behind them.
"They say the student can surpass the master, but that idiot is a sucker among suckers. He and Raon are cut from entirely different cloth. Absolutely not."
"Aha! I told you!"
Rimer strode forward, his face twisting.
"Being called a sucker does leave a bad taste, but it really wasn't me! I did not teach Raon how to gamble!"
"Ahem..."
"Apologize! Do you have any idea how many times I got struck over that? My bones still ache!"
He had been hit by lightning three times over the misunderstanding that he had taught Raon to gamble. A witness had now appeared — he was not about to let this slide.
"Apologize! Apologize! Apologize!"
Rimer punched the empty air as if staging a protest.
"I'm sorry. It seems I misunderstood."
"Words only! Words only! Words only!"
Seizing the opportunity to extract something extra, he raised his voice even louder. The goal, of course, was gold coins.
"Never mind the empty talk — I want proper compensa—"
Just as Rimer stretched out a hand to demand money, a bolt of lightning erupted in the empty air and crashed down upon him.
KRA-KOOM!
"Gyaaaaah!"
The lightning had been invoked in a literal instant. Rimer didn't even have time to think about dodging. He screamed and went down.
"Ah, you devil..."
Rimer trembled as he forced his head up with difficulty.
Grandfather and grandson really are cut from the same cloth.
If Raon got just a little more shameless, he would turn into Glenn. They suited each other far too well to be anything but grandfather and grandson.
"Harrein. I have something I wish to ask you."
Glenn didn't even glance at Rimer. He jerked his chin toward Harrein. A presence thick with an uncharacteristic discomfort rolled out in a wave, swallowing the entire Audience Chamber.
"P-please, go ahead."
Dokoe swallowed dryly at the suddenly oppressive atmosphere.
"Was the liquor you drank with Raon any good?"
"Pardon?"
"I asked whether the liquor you sat across from Raon and drank was any good."
"Uh..."
Dokoe's pupils wavered like reeds in the wind at a question he had never seen coming.
"Hup."
Rimer clamped a hand over his mouth to hold back a laugh.
He's angry that someone stole his grandson's first drinking session.
The reason Glenn's presence had turned so uncomfortable was that Dokoe had taken Raon's first round of drinks. He had clearly been looking forward to his grandson's first drinking session, only to have it snatched away by an old subordinate — and he was furious about it.
"Mm. It wasn't bad, I think."
Dokoe nodded slowly.
"It wasn't bad?"
A heat like anger began to thread through Glenn's voice.
"There's never been anyone who could keep up with my drinking pace — but that boy actually pulled ahead and provoked me. It was the first time I'd ever experienced that. It was strange, and at the same time, I found myself thinking I wasn't lonely. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I was with another person."
"Mm..."
"It's a little awkward to say this from the position of someone who got taken by him, but you really have an excellent grandson."
Unlike before, the praise was steeped in genuine feeling. The moment Dokoe suddenly began to hold Raon up, Glenn's overwhelming presence snuffed out like a candle flame.
"At first I thought he was a pup who didn't know his place. Now he looks like a great tiger who, young as he is, has weathered every storm and has his eyes on becoming the master of the mountain. I've wandered the continent and encountered a great deal of talent — but the real thing was here all along."
Dokoe smiled faintly and placed a hand over the left side of his chest.
"I apologize to you, my former lord, but it seems I will have to serve a young master for a while. I cannot break a promise I made on my own name."
He bowed his head without changing his posture.
"Huh..."
Rimer let out a breath of disbelief.
He accepted it that quickly?
Dokoe couldn't possibly be unaware that Raon was from a collateral line, and yet he was sincerely intending to help him. After everything that had happened, it seemed the boy had truly won him over.
Maybe it stirred up old memories.
Looking at Raon, Dokoe seemed to be picturing the days when he had stood together with everyone.
That brat really is...
Raon had no way of knowing, but the words about being free to leave if he fell short of expectations had struck Dokoe especially hard. They were similar to what Glenn had once said to him, long ago.
"Ahem."
Rimer lifted his head and looked at Glenn. The Head of House was forcibly dragging down the corners of his mouth, which were trying to climb all the way to the heavens.
Rimer snickered.
He's so simple at times like this.
Only moments ago he had been furious that someone had stolen his grandson's first drinking session — and now that Raon had been sincerely acknowledged, he didn't know what to do with his joy. He was the very picture of a hopelessly doting grandfather.
"Then you haven't returned to Zieghart so much as..."
"Yes. I belong to the Annex. I'll be taking my orders from that side."
Dokoe stated calmly that he had not entered Zieghart's service, but Raon's.
"I see."
Glenn's mouth and eyes surged like a wave. It meant he liked this even more.
"I was the one who sent you away, so I suppose it can't be helped."
Glenn narrowed his eyes and nodded. As if to hide the smile tugging at his lips, he casually covered his mouth with a hand.
"Thank you."
Dokoe, still failing to notice the reaction, dropped to one knee and bowed his head with due formality.
"Rimer."
Glenn called to him, his eyes shining with barely contained delight.
"I have something to say to you as well."
"Thank you. As for the reward money you granted..."
"What nonsense are you spouting now?"
He frowned and waved a hand.
"This isn't about money. It's about the Light Wind Squad's mission."