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Rimer swallowed hard as he stared at the Artificial Dantian, the two elixirs, and the bracelet artifact laid out before him.

An Artificial Dantian, and an elixir that can restore mana circuits…

With these, could he really go back to the way he used to be?

The thought of mending a dantian that leaked aura like a bottomless jar — of erasing the wounds in his mana circuits that stabbed like knives every time he channeled power — set his heart hammering against his ribs.

"Mm…"

Even so, he didn't reach for them. Whether they could truly restore him to his former self was almost beside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the point. The real question was whether he had any right to take them at all.

The elixir the Patriarch sent down is meant for me, at least.

Sheti's Tears, which Burren had brought back from the branch, was clearly an elixir Glenn had prepared in advance. Taking that one was fine. No — it was only right that it find its intended owner.

But these two are different.

Rimer let out a thin breath and looked at the Artificial Dantian and the elixir called the Spirit Flow Pill.

Those two were treasures Raon had risked his life to bring back from a dungeon. And there was one other person in House Zieghart who could use them. He couldn't just claim them for himself.

This kid…

He slowly lifted his gaze to Raon. A hollow laugh escaped him at those crimson eyes, as unshaken as the moon hanging in the night sky.

Is he testing me?

Raon's mother, Sylvia, had a shattered dantian and ruined mana circuits as well. With this Artificial Dantian and elixir, she could start a new life. He couldn't understand why Raon would hand them over to him.

No. Forget all that…

Rimer closed his eyes. He pictured the swordsmen of the Light Wind Squad — he'd watched them so long he could read their thoughts from a glance alone — and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

If I start over from scratch, I won't be able to protect these kids.

Recovering his former realm with the Artificial Dantian would be a joy, no question. He could feel his heart racing with that very expectation even now.

But reclaiming his old strength would take a long time. No matter how high a realm he had once reached, building aura back up from the beginning was another matter entirely.

Rimer slowly opened his eyes. He looked at each of his disciples in turn — the same faces he had just pictured — and smiled faintly.

I can't betray the kids who trusted me and followed me this far.

It was a shame, truly. But it couldn't be helped. He still didn't want to leave these children in anyone else's hands.

Just a little longer.

He wanted to stay by their side, even if only a little while more.

He wanted to see Runaan's face light up with a full, open smile. He wanted to see Burren earn Karun's recognition. He wanted to see Marta finish her revenge and find her peace again.

And then, at last, he met Raon's eyes — those still, luminous crimson irises.

I want to see this kid become the king of Zieghart.

It was probably impossible. But still.

Looking into Raon's gaze, Rimer settled his heart. If there had been no one else who could use them, it would be different. Yielding these was the right thing for everyone.

"Hey! How long do you think it'd take to pile aura back up from scratch? Too much of a pain in the ass! I'll just take the elixir."

He shook his head hard as he refused.

"Instead, we can put this Artificial Dantian and the other elixir up for auction and split the—"

As Rimer chuckled and reached for the elixir, Raon caught his wrist.

"R-Raon?"

"Is that truly your choice, Squad Leader?"

"Huh?"

"I asked whether this decision is really coming from your heart."

"Ah…"

Those crimson eyes seemed to see straight through him. The words died in his throat.

Raon narrowed his eyes, still holding Rimer's wrist.

Just the answer I expected.

On the way back to Doran Village, he had already thought through how Rimer would react.

The man looked lighthearted on the surface, but no one carried a heavier heart. His response had been obvious from the start.

He'll try to restore only his mana circuits with the elixir, so he can keep protecting us.

If Rimer used the Artificial Dantian, it would take a considerable amount of time to recover his former realm. He wouldn't be able to fight alongside the current Light Wind Squad during that period, so of course he had planned to take the elixir and heal only his mana circuits.

And Mother would have crossed his mind as well.

Sylvia's dantian was broken too. Rimer had surely yielded the treasures in the hope that she would be the one to use them.

But he was wrong on both counts.

"R-Raon? I'm a patient here…"

Rimer grimaced, pointing at his wrist, which had flushed red in Raon's grip.

"Are you truly going to choose the elixir?"

"Come on, I'm not getting any younger. When am I supposed to build aura back up? It's a hassle."

"That's not the reason, and you know it."

Raon shook his head without letting go of Rimer's wrist.

"There are two things, aren't there?"

"Huh…?"

Rimer's eyes flew wide at the words two things.

"I'll start with the first. My mother cannot be healed with these two."

"What are you talking about…"

"A shattered dantian can be replaced with an Artificial Dantian. But her mana circuits cannot be restored even with the Spirit Flow Pill."

If Rimer's mana circuits were a hose that had withered from overuse and torn in places, Sylvia's were a hose that had been snipped apart with scissors — water couldn't flow through them at all.

Even the Spirit Flow Pill, which restored the condition of mana circuits, could not reconnect hers.

Not yet.

To join her mana circuits, they would need to give the Spirit Flow Pill's formula to the Saint and improve its effects.

"That's…"

"And the second."

Raon released Rimer's wrist and pointed to the Light Wind Squad standing behind him.

"We are strong. No — we will become strong enough that we lose to no one. We'll wait right here. Squad Leader, follow the pull of your own heart."

Rimer was a martial artist. A swordsman who had once stood at the highest peak. No one reached that realm without loving the swing of a blade, which meant he wanted his dantian restored more than anyone alive.

He had only held himself back for the Light Wind Squad's sake, and because he wanted Sylvia healed.

"Th-that's right. We can hold the line!"

"You're always thinking about yielding. That's why you get wrecked at the gambling table!"

"Mm."

Burren, Marta, and Runaan had already read Rimer's thoughts. They nodded in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠agreement.

"Squad Leader! Aren't you looking down on us a little too much?"

"We'll be waiting, so go get better and come back!"

"You're the one who gathered us together. You have to trust us!"

The rest of the Light Wind Squad shook their fists and shouted for him to believe in them.

"Squad Leader. Your Sword Realm Manifestation."

Raon scraped his fingers across the ground and looked Rimer dead in the eye.

"You said you created it so you could fight the strong without putting a strain on your dantian, didn't you?"

"I did."

"The fuel that sustains that Sword Realm is your life force. Life force that burns through your remaining years."

"H-how did you…"

Rimer's lips trembled.

"We don't want to watch you make that kind of sacrifice."

Raon met those wavering green eyes and clenched his jaw.

"Squad Leader!"

The Light Wind Squad behind him bowed their heads with the same feeling in their chests.

"Oh, for crying out loud…"

Rimer covered his eyes with one hand and let out a hollow laugh. His shoulders shook for a long time before he finally opened his mouth.

"You can really hold out without me?"

"Of course."

Raon nodded without a shred of hesitation.

I won't let a single one of them die.

Absolutely not.

The Light Wind Squad was his second family, after the Annex. He would give everything he had to keep every last one of them alive.

"Alright. If a master can't trust his disciples, who can?"

Rimer used the word disciples for the first time in a long while and lowered the hand from his eyes. A vivid light kindled in those leaf-green irises.

"Then I'll take the Artificial Dantian and the elixirs, all of—"

The moment he reached for them, Raon scooped up the Artificial Dantian first.

"Eh?"

Rimer clutched at empty air, his mouth falling open.

"W-why would you suddenly…"

"I'll give it to you. But we need to confirm whether this Artificial Dantian can be replicated before you use it."

According to Loengrin it would be difficult — but there was always a chance, and Raon wanted to check.

"Encia will be coming to House Zieghart soon. I'll ask her, and then I'll hand it over. For now, Squad Leader, put on the bracelet and start by raising the condition of your mana circuits with Sheti's Tears."

With that, Raon tucked the Artificial Dantian back into his coat.

"I-if you were going to do that, you should've given it to me later! I already struck the pose! Who snatches it away after a moment like that?!"

"Thinking about it, it'll be safer to do this after we return to the house. And we should confirm the Artificial Dantian before using it anyway."

"Oh, come on! You were supposed to give it to me here! I was all fired up! I was looking forward to it!"

Rimer flopped onto his back like a child and thrashed, as if to demand what he was supposed to do with this atmosphere now.

"Hmmm!"

Wrath, perched on Raon's shoulder, nodded with deep, theatrical admiration.

"A mockery worthy of the Demon King of Ridicule himself! As expected, you belong in the Demon Realm…"

That's not it.

After helping Rimer restore his mana circuits following the dose of Sheti's Tears, Raon climbed the spire at the center of the village.

Doran Village, seen from a tower that wasn't particularly tall, was peace itself. Smiles overflowed on every face, and every conversation was threaded with warmth and hope.

A quiet relief settled over him — the knowledge that he had protected their peace, the warmth of this place.

We got lucky.

This time had been dangerous too.

Meeting Garam had let them see Tiller for what he really was. Rimer's intervention had let them survive Roman, the Floating King. And because Loengrin had once been Wrath's servant, they had been able to walk away with the Artificial Dantian and the Spirit Flow Pill.

He hadn't done all that much himself.

I can't keep fighting like this.

The first time he had faced the Floating King, fear had bloomed in his chest.

Not fear that he would die — fear that the others would.

He had been terrified that the Light Wind Squad, who had become family and comrades, would die. That Rimer — a childish man who was nonetheless an outstanding master — would die. That Garam, who had only just been able to stand with his own people again, would die.

They had been fortunate to meet Roman, a man they could at least talk to. If they had fought a Grandmaster from Eden or the White Blood Cult instead, Rimer would likely have died, and the Light Wind Squad would have been wiped out.

"Hah…"

Raon pressed his lips together.

It's frightening.

Standing above other people.

In his previous life he had been an officer of the Shadows, but he had never cared about his comrades the way he did now.

He had been raised as a hunting dog — a tool that only needed to complete the mission, whether his subordinates died or he died himself. Fear like this had never existed.

But it was different now. He had watched the lives of the Light Wind Squad's swordsmen up close. He knew what kind of man Rimer was. He didn't want a single one of them to die.

The way to keep everyone alive is simple.

Get stronger.

He had to grow stronger than he was now — faster, through higher-quality training and real combat.

"And not just me…"

Raon wrapped his hand tight around the hilt of the Heavenly Sky Sword.

Everyone.

As he had told Rimer, it wasn't enough for him to grow alone. The entire Light Wind Squad had to grow with him.

They needed to build the strength and the experience to escape any enemy, any situation, no matter what came for them.

If we'd been strong enough this time, the Squad Leader would have been fine.

The reason Rimer had pushed himself past his limits was that the Light Wind Squad had been weaker than the South-North Alliance.

If Raon had defeated Lector, and if the Light Wind Squad had been able to break the river bandits of the Dark Cloud, Rimer wouldn't have had to overreach — and they could have driven Roman off. All of it had happened because the Light Wind Squad was weak.

Raon glanced back at the Light Wind Squad's lodgings and smiled faintly.

They'd better rest well while they're here.

Once they returned, they wouldn't be getting any sleep.

He had already made up his mind. In preparation for the Life-and-Death Duel with the Floating King in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠three years, he would put himself through bone-grinding training — and he would push every member of the Light Wind Squad past their limits as well.

Steel only grows stronger the more you hammer it.

He could already hear the Light Wind Squad's wails of despair, and a smile came unbidden.

And him, I'll work to the bone too—

"Hmph!"

While Raon was still smiling, Wrath burst out of the ice-flower bracelet with a snort.

"If thinking made one strong, there wouldn't be a single weakling left in this world."

That's why I said I'd put in the work.

"Effort isn't what matters — it's what you do. From where This King stands, you and your little servants have clearly defined limits."

Wrath stretched his cheeks long with both paws and cackled.

"I can see it already. Your pathetic figure, crawling to This King for help because you no longer have that old geezer's protection to hide behind!"

Wrath did a little shoulder-dance, delighted at the thought of stuffing even more wrath into him.

"The day your body falls into This King's hands isn't far off n—"

A violent tremor ran through the Requiem Sword just as Wrath's laughter was deepening.

"Hm?"

The instant Raon gripped the Requiem Sword's hilt, a message bloomed before his eyes.

A wave of extraordinarily pure energy surged up from the left hand gripping the Requiem Sword and rolled through him.

A low, resonant hum filled the air.

It was the largest amount of blood energy he had ever received. The energy was so refined it could have been mistaken for natural mana, and as the massive volume poured into him, a shiver ran down his spine.

Insane.

The quality of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠purified blood energy was tied to the quantity and quality of what had been absorbed. He had killed an apostle and an archbishop and devoured every last drop of their blood energy, so of course the purified result dwarfed anything that had come before.

The Requiem Sword hummed again.

The high-purity energy it sent him circulated through his mana circuits along the formulas of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames and Glacia, then settled into his dantian.

The dantian, which had grown when he became a Master, pulsed once — and only then could it take in the full amount.

"W-why is this showing up?! Why now, of all times?!"

Wrath's eyes blew wide at the messages hanging in the air. Shock trembled in his pupils.

"Grr! It's obviously listening to This King! Looking at the timing, there's no other explana—"

He howled that it was impossible — but the surprises weren't over yet.

One more message remained.

"YAAAAAAH!"