The Calm Before the Storm

After giving the Light Wind Squad time to eat, Raon returned to the annex.

He had meant to thank Encia for crafting the Black Rings, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"She said inspiration struck her. She hasn't left her room since this morning."

Judiel had come in Encia's place, shaking her head with that dry, unreadable look of hers.

"So she doesn't even need to check how they perform?"

"She seems quite confident."

"Right. Meaning they're perfect."

Shutting herself in without so much as waiting for a review of the Black Rings could only mean she had absolute faith in the quality of her own work. Young as she was, both her skill and her mindset already stood at the level of a true master artisan.

"I have something to report."

Raon had been about to ask after the Heavy Martial Palace when Judiel spoke first.

"An order has come down from the Heavy Martial Palace to update the young master's latest information."

"Latest information?"

"Yes. Injuries, new equipment, hidden martial arts—even your movements. The instruction was to approach with extreme caution."

She added that it had been a long time since an order that detailed had been issued.

"Is that so?"

The corner of Raon's mouth curled. The unease he had felt from Tias—Burren's butler—might not have been mere imagination after all.

"How has the Heavy Martial Palace been lately?"

"Quiet."

"Quiet?"

"Karoon Zieghart is away on a mission, so Gelmier Zieghart, leader of the Vanguard Squad, is running the Heavy Martial Palace in his place. The atmosphere is far calmer than usual. And that is…"

Her pupils sank deep, like a well with no bottom in sight.

"The calm before the storm."

Raon nodded, taking up her words.

"Meaning they're preparing something behind the scenes. Or underneath."

"Yes. Internal information is being tightly controlled, so I can't know the details, but I believe that's highly likely."

"Information control…"

This was the first time Judiel had ever used that phrase. It seemed he needed to look into Gelmier Zieghart properly.

"What kind of person is Gelmier?"

"A young powerhouse in command of the Vanguard Squad. His martial prowess is known to be at the Mid-rank Master level. He has mastered a thrusting sword style that emphasizes precision and speed, and he made a name for himself across the continent as the Gale Sword after cutting down a unit leader of the Heavenly Martial Star."

Judiel let out a faint breath and continued.

"His public image is as excellent as that epithet. Merciful to his allies, yet utterly without blood or tears toward his enemies. His true nature, however, is cold-blooded enough to cut down even an ally if they become an obstacle. Many within the Heavy Martial Palace itself fear him."

"I see."

Raon clicked his tongue.

Information control. Tias's reaction. Gelmier's true nature. And Burren being excused from training…

Piecing it all together sent a chill crawling down his spine. Everything else was strange enough, but thinking about it now, Burren's absence from training was the most unusual of all.

There's no way that guy would skip training so easily.

Burren, the most responsible member of the Light Wind Squad, missing practice made no sense. Even if he had to sit out, he should have come in person to explain.

I was too careless.

Tias—Burren's closest aide, and the butler who cherished him most—had come in his place, and Raon had let his guard down because of it.

"You said internal information at the Heavy Martial Palace is being controlled?"

"Yes. It's quite thoroughly locked down. They're being extremely cautious."

"I have a favor to ask."

He pointed to the gold pin fastened to his training uniform—one of the artifacts he had brought back from Lohengrin's Dungeon.

"I'll give you the information on this artifact. In exchange, find out Burren's location inside the Heavy Martial Palace."

"The artifact information would certainly work, but… why Burren?"

"Just a hunch, but I think he's going through a pretty rough time right now."

Raon turned away with a cold smile.

That night, Raon looked down at the Light Wind Squad assembled before Bukmang Mountain.

Anger, fear, and irritation all mixed in their eyes. He smiled.

"The rules of survival are simple. You hide. I seek. And when we meet, we fight. How's that? Easy, right?"

"You boar-headed bastard! How the hell are we supposed to beat you!"

Marta ground her teeth as if the whole thing were absurd. She looked ready to charge in and grab him by the collar.

"Gorgeous Raon. Can't win."

Runaan shook her head, declaring it impossible. She had met Encia yesterday, and now she was using that word again.

"She's right! How are we supposed to beat the acting squad leader!"

"We couldn't beat you even before you were a Master. Now you're a wall!"

"This is unfair!"

The rest of the Light Wind Squad shook their fists and complained that victory was impossible.

"Relax. I'm not suggesting we do this as-is."

Raon gave a short laugh and fastened the Black Rings around his wrists and ankles.

"I wear the Black Rings. You take yours off. Meaning I'll be hunting you without aura. That should even things out, yes?"

"Y-you're not using aura?"

"Really?"

"Th-then we might actually have a shot!"

The Light Wind Squad swallowed dryly, suddenly finding a glimmer of possibility.

"No! There's still more!"

Marta scowled and stepped forward.

"What about the fighting? You're not going to yank those bracelets off the second we clash, are you?"

"Of course I'll fight like this."

"Good! Then it's doable. I'm going to smash that face of yours!"

Marta bit down on her lip and raised a fist.

"Me too! I've been pissed off for days!"

"We spent the whole day rolling around on the ground again!"

"Ghh—I am not taking this anymore!"

Every last member of the Light Wind Squad bared their teeth, fury rising.

"Anyone I don't find—or anyone who knocks me down—gets tomorrow off."

"Hah?!"

"A day off!"

"I-I'm definitely hiding! I'll dig a hole in the ground if I have to!"

The promise of leave turned every face in the squad scarlet. Whether they planned to hide or to attack, their motivation had just hit its peak.

Runaan, for her part, stared blankly up at Bukmang Mountain as if none of it had anything to do with her.

"I move in one hour. Now go!"

Raon grinned and clapped his hands. He had watched Rimer do it so many times that, in moments like this, the applause came out on its own.

"Let's goooo!"

"I'm not even breathing until this is over!"

"I'm going to flatten Raon! When else am I going to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠get a shot at that smug face!"

The Light Wind Squad roared and charged up the mountain. They hadn't used aura all day during training, and the surplus of power was more than they could contain.

Raon listened to the sound of swordsmen climbing, then turned his back. They weren't fools—after that first burst of shouting, they went up the mountain in dead silence.

"This should be fun, don't you think?"

"Hmph! What's so entertaining about a children's game?"

"I told them they'd get tomorrow off. They'll throw everything they have at it. Don't you want to see the look on their faces when that hope gets crushed?"

"Khhh!"

Wrath let out a groan of delight, as if he had just downed a mug of beer in one go.

"A wickedness even This King never conceived of! As expected, you…"

There he goes again.

Raon shoved the clinging Wrath aside and closed his eyes. An hour was a long time. Instead of circulating aura, he spent it in meditation, honing his swordsmanship.

"Time."

He opened his eyes an hour and five minutes later and approached the mountain.

"Not bad."

A few of them had used footwork to cover ground quickly, but most had climbed with silenced steps, erasing their traces as they went. Seeing that his teaching had taken root, he smiled.

Not that it means I can't find them.

When searching a mountain, the ground was only one place to look. Bent twigs and leaves, a scent carried on the wind, the psychology of someone moving along a mountain path—there were plenty of hints even without footprints.

They drifted pretty far to the right.

The marks on the soil and branches suggested eight or more of them had moved that way.

Best to deal with this side first.

Once he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had the direction of the trail locked in, Raon ran.

The traces are getting thicker.

Unlike the mountain's entrance, past the mid-slope the signs pointed blatantly toward a nearby hill.

I can see exactly what they're thinking.

Raon snorted and started up the rise—and the instant he did, steel-blue practice swords dropped from both flanks and from the trees above.

"Give us!"

"Our day off!"

"Hand it over!"

"Diiie!"

The hidden swordsmen of the Light Wind Squad's Third Unit screamed as they brought their practice blades down. Positioning, timing, reaction speed—all of it was good. The choice of vocabulary, admittedly, was less so.

"Nice ambush."

Raon smiled mildly and took a single step forward.

That one step sent every sword carving through empty air. Using the opening, he drove his fists into the stomachs of the two swordsmen on his right.

"Ghhhk!"

"Urgh!"

They had been hit in the gut by nothing more than a fist, yet both men foamed at the mouth and could not get up.

"Hey! What are you doing!"

"That's a fist, not a sword!"

"They can't get up."

Raon shook his head and walked forward. He wasn't using aura—but he had taken the limiters off his strength and agility. They were not getting up.

"Hhhk!"

"Th-that's impossible!"

"He can't use aura! If we all go at once, we can win!"

With Burren absent, Crain—vice-leader of the Third Unit—rallied the others and charged.

Five practice swords stabbed for Raon's waist. He flicked them aside with the back of his hand and his shoulder, almost lazily.

"Don't just follow with your eyes. Use your senses. Pour everything into your aura and read the distance and position between you and your opponent!"

He slipped every blade that came at him like rose thorns, then drove a fist into each of them in turn.

A storm of punches hammered down. The Third Unit hit the dirt and rolled. The only one left standing was Vice-Leader Crain.

"Eek! H-how is this…"

Crain stumbled backward, teeth chattering. His eyes swung like a pendulum, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"You said 'die' a minute ago, didn't you?"

"M-me? I would never!"

"No. I heard you clearly. That's why I saved you for last."

Raon smiled brightly and rolled his wrist.

"W-wait!"

"You're going to take a few extra."

"AAAAAGH!"

Raon was back at the foot of the mountain. In front of him, the swordsmen of the Light Wind Squad knelt in the dirt, rubbing at their bruises.

Marta had openly demanded a one-on-one and gotten cheerfully beaten for it. Runaan had hidden until the very end, but her position had been found anyway, and she had surrendered.

"You never properly learned search ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or concealment. Not getting found by me was impossible from the start."

Raon met the squad's eyes and raised a finger.

"So what should you have done?"

"Been ready to fight from the beginning, obviously."

Marta scowled, rubbing her battered jaw.

"Correct. And from there, it splits into how you fight."

Raon nodded and went on.

"When you become a Master, your body and senses rise to another level. Even if you're the only ones using aura, I still have the advantage. How do you fight a martial artist like that?"

"Just charge in and beat the shit out of them!"

"Ambush them!"

"Surround them with numbers!"

The first answer was Marta's, of course. The rest of the Light Wind Squad offered their own ideas. None of them was right.

"There is no correct answer."

"There isn't?"

"Huh? How can there not be!"

"There really isn't."

Raon smiled faintly at their confusion.

"Terrain, timing, circumstances—all of it changes with the moment, so there is no single correct answer. There is, however, a solution."

Heat gathered in his eyes as he looked down at them.

"You don't know when I'll find you, or how I'll fight you. So from the moment you set out, keep your focus at its peak. Always keep a grip on that tension, and keep your mind turning, so that you can start every fight on your terms. I'll say it again: focus. Until this training is over, hold your concentration at its absolute limit."

The entire Light Wind Squad swallowed. Fists clenched. He could feel the strength settling into their eyes.

"If you've got it, go up. Round two starts now."

"Yes!"

This time, there was no complaining. Shame at being broken by a Raon who wasn't even using aura, and the thrill of advice that had set their hearts pounding, steeled them. They climbed the mountain in silence.

Raon watched them pick their way carefully up the slope, then turned. He started walking—not toward the mountain, but toward the training ground.

"Hm? Where do you think you're going?"

Wrath, who had been yawning on his shoulder, tilted his head.

The training ground.

"Not that mountain?"

Why would I go there?

"No—you just told those brats to go up."

I told them to go up. I never said I was going.

"Uh…"

Wrath's mouth fell open, as if that possibility had never occurred to him.

What those kids need right now is time spent holding their focus.

Raon glanced back and grinned.

They don't know when I'll come looking, so they'll keep the tension and the concentration going the whole time. It'll be a bit hard, but they'll grow a lot in a short span.

Honestly, it wouldn't be "a bit" hard. It would be hard enough to kill them. And they would grow that much for it.

Now I should get some training in myself.

Raon rolled his shoulders and closed his hand around the hilt of the Heavenly Sky Sword.

"Y-you are no human, no matter how This King looks at it!"

Wrath's jaw trembled.

"That is not a way of thinking a human would have!"

Then I suppose I'm not human.

"You admitted it! You finally admitted it! Excellent! On the royal road This King shall lay out…"

I'm not buying it.

Raon returned to the Fifth Training Ground and closed his eyes. He drew up the Ring of Fire and the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation, slowly, and set the mana circuits of his entire body burning with the power of fire. Then he drew the Heavenly Sky Sword.

The fine sand spread across the floor blackened and scorched, gray smoke seeping up in lazy threads.

As expected, Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation has no shortage of useful techniques.

Upon reaching Master, the martial arts of Hundred Flowers had drawn themselves newly in his mind. Until now he had kept his distance, busy creating and developing a martial art of his own—but he had room now. It was time to learn them properly.

He shifted the Ten Thousand Flames energy wrapping his body into the Heavenly Sky Sword. The blazing Ganggi that burned along the blade, he sliced as thin as a thread of sword-light, and from it a single line arose.

Sand along that line of heat withered and died. The air itself began to warp, as if heat haze had taken a bite out of space.

Raon drew the sword down, slowly. The sand floor split black, a sharp furrow opening—and the sand piled on either side did not slide in to fill it. The heat of Red Flash seemed to melt even the air around it.

Not bad.

Against an equal or lesser opponent, it would be impossible to block. Even a superior opponent's defense could be punched through. The power was staggering.

The aura cost is steep, though.

Flame Bead Wall and Red Flash were both arts of Hundred Flowers; they consumed incomparably more aura than ordinary swordsmanship. Excellent techniques—but he would need to be careful about when he used them.

Satisfied, Raon smiled and began to unfold, one after another, every martial art he had learned and every martial art he could still learn, checking each in turn.

He lost himself in the sword. By the time he came back to himself, the sky was growing light.

Time to go find them.

"What do you mean, 'them'! They're not objects!"

Wrath sputtered, as if he could not believe what he was hearing.

Objects? They're my precious subordinates.

The ones he had left lying around. No—the ones he had been training. He sheathed the Heavenly Sky Sword to go collect the Light Wind Squad. He turned to head up Bukmang Mountain, and found Judiel standing in front of the training ground with a lunch basket in her hands.

"Young master."

Judiel bent her knee in a slight bow and came forward.

"What brings you out at dawn?"

"I thought you would be training, so I prepared a snack."

She stood before him with a faint smile—one she did not wear in ordinary circumstances. It meant she had something to say.

"Ah. Thanks. This way."

Raon smiled and led her into the rest area, then raised an energy barrier so that no sound would escape.

"What is it?"

"Information has come in."

"Already?"

"It seemed urgent, so I looked into it a little faster than usual."

She nodded, her gaze as dry and even as ever.

"This is my inference, first of all. Please keep that in mind as you listen."

"Go on."

"Burren was not seen in any of the Heavy Martial Palace's training grounds. They say he is inside the building, but not a single person has actually laid eyes on him. Gelmier, on the other hand, has been spotted all over. And there is one other person who has not been seen."

"Who?"

"Olan. One of the unit leaders of the Vanguard Squad, and a master of the sword. He has another specialty besides the blade, however."

"A specialty?"

"Yes. Brainwashing."

Judiel's brow tightened slightly as she went on.

"It isn't a crude method that inflicts physical pain. It uses words and a small amount of drugs to shock the mind, so it leaves no outward trace. The mild brainwashing that was on me was the same type."

Raon's killing intent had burned that brainwashing away—but he, too, in his previous life, had been caught in something like what Olan used.

"Then what you're saying is…"

"Yes. It may not be the case—but there is a high probability that Olan is currently brainwashing Burren."

"Meaning it's almost certain."

Raon frowned. She had said it might not be so, but her eyes held conviction.

"So this Gelmier bastard is the kind of piece of shit who'd lock up his own little brother?"

"I believe so."

"Hah. And the reason is probably me, isn't it?"

"……"

Judiel did not answer. That meant she could not know—and that, more than anything, made the inferences that had come before it more trustworthy.

"The Roepens-style Brainwashing Olan uses takes seven to ten days. After that, he continues to summon the subject and layers additional conditioning until it is complete."

"Ten days…"

Raon nodded. He remembered Tias saying Burren would be unable to join training for ten days.

"It's certain."

Yes. It's certain.

He didn't need to hear any more. Tias had known the circumstances and had still been threatened into coming to the training ground. That reaction, so unlike his usual self, had been a plea for help—a hand reaching out, begging Raon to find Burren.

"What do you intend to do?"

"Right now the Heavy Martial Palace only has its basic forces and the Vanguard Squad, correct?"

"Yes. Karoon went to deal with the barbarians, so those are all the troops that remain."

"Perfect."

He clicked his tongue in satisfaction and nodded.

"The Vanguard Squad would make excellent training dummies for the Light Wind Squad."

"Y-you intend to attack the Heavy Martial Palace?"

"I do. Our kids are about to become mad dogs, you see?"

Raon looked up toward Bukmang Mountain, a chill smile on his face.

"That's your fault, isn't it! I'm certain those brats would rather bite you!"

Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a mad dog doesn't bite its own master.

He was about to shove Wrath aside when a thunderous crash erupted from the Secluded Cultivation Chamber within.

"Huh?"

Raon left the rest area at once. The front of the chamber was buried in a cloud of dirt, and through that smoke, Rimer appeared—red hair hanging in a tangled mess.

"Uh…?"

Why does that guy look like that again…