The Mad Dog Squad
Raon narrowed his eyes as he watched the Light Wind Squad face Dokoe with the Great Light Wind Formation spread wide.
I can see it clearly now.
Because the Ring of Fire had risen to the seventh star, every individual flaw in a swordsman and every misalignment in the formation came into view as naturally as breathing.
"Marta. Drop your stance lower and keep your sword at mid-guard. You're the unit leader. If you hold the front, the others will have room to work."
"Damn it…"
Marta spat a curse, lowering her stance and bringing her sword in front of her dantian. The way she patched the gap in a single breath made it obvious her skill had leapt forward over the past month.
"Runaan. Your aura circulation is getting sluggish. Refine it finer and shut down the Chief Manager's movement."
"Mm."
Runaan nodded, and silver energy unfurled from her sword tip like mist, seizing Dokoe's space.
"Burren. You worry too much. When an opening shows, you have to drive in harder. Seeing the Chief Manager's gap and just standing there was your mistake."
"I thought it was a trap…"
"Telling the difference is what skill is. Sharpen your eye."
"Grr—I know!"
Burren roared and charged straight at Dokoe. A cold wind peeled off the decisive cut he brought down.
"We're going too!"
"Mm."
Marta and Runaan crashed in from either flank on his heels, pouring out their own sword strikes.
Whenever Dokoe swept Ganggi across them, the Light Wind Squad held the formation and fell back. The moment his power ebbed, they punched into the opening and sent their blades home.
They should all be satisfied with this.
Even with Dokoe holding back, they were standing their ground against a man using Ganggi. The Light Wind Squad had every reason to feel proud.
"Satisfied?"
Wrath let out a scoff of air and pointed at the squad.
"Do those wretches look satisfied to your eyes?"
Raon followed the gesture and looked again. Their eyes had gone slack. Their breathing was ragged. Their hands were trembling. They had blown past their limits a long time ago.
They had trained for a week with almost no rest, so in a way it was only natural. But this was the kind of training they needed—the kind that dragged every last ounce of potential out of them.
Of course it's hard. But if they meet that state for the first time in a real fight, it'll be too late.
Tiller, the Floating King, and the Fourth Apostle from the last mission had none of them been easy opponents. Against the Floating King, they had come within a breath of being wiped out.
If they never wanted to taste that again, the martial power and the will of every member of the Light Wind Squad—Raon included—had to be forged harder still.
"Hmph. Well. That much is true."
Wrath had no choice but to concede the point, and nodded.
"The ice cream girl and the beef girl have to be kept alive, after all."
There's one more, you know.
Raon pointed at Dorian, who was hanging back behind the formation, looking terrified.
"Nngh…"
Wrath gave a slow, reluctant nod, as if there was no helping it.
"Ah. This King is aware. That one was the first, after all…"
He muttered, Why did I make that choice? and let out a sigh.
"That coward is dragging the flow of the formation off-center. Tell him to move up."
Wrath frowned as he pointed out Dorian's shortcoming. Whatever he said on the surface, the brat genuinely cared about his subordinates.
"Dorian."
"Y-yes?"
"Stop being scared and come forward. Who else in this squad has power like yours? What are you hiding for?"
"A-alright."
Dorian swallowed dryly and shifted the foot that had drifted out of the formation back into place.
Even that much made the Light Wind Formation bite down harder. As one mind, they pressed Dokoe in.
But raw power was not always a virtue. Dokoe drove his Ganggi straight into the heart of the sword strikes rolling in like a tide.
The crash split the air. The Light Wind Squad, thinking only of attack, were hurled in every direction by the force that shattered the center of their formation.
"Ghh…"
"D-damn it…"
"We were too impatient…"
The squad members sprawled on the ground, groaning. After so many battles and so much experience, they already knew exactly what they had done wrong.
Raon stood at the edge of the platform and smiled faintly.
"I've told you more than once. The instant you attack is the instant your opponent is best placed to counter. Keep that in mind. Always."
"Y-yes…"
"A-understood."
The Light Wind Squad managed a nod in voices drained of strength.
"And next—"
"I can't do this anymore! You lunatic! Just kill me already!"
Marta lifted only her head and bellowed.
"I'm at my limit too. G-gods above."
Burren clasped his hands as if begging to be spared.
"I'm going to sleep…"
Runaan let her eyes fall shut, as if they could do whatever they wanted. Her breathing evened out. She really did seem to have dropped off.
"Listen properly. The next session starts tomorrow. Go back and rest for today."
"Huh?"
"Wha—!"
"I-is that true?"
"Wooooooo!"
The Light Wind Squad stared at the sun, which had not even set, with their mouths hanging open.
In the entire past month, training had never ended before sundown. They all roared in delight.
"From the next session on, we'll be sparring with other squads as well. Come prepared."
"Sparring with other squads?"
"You need to throw the sword energy you've built up against swordsmen of a similar level."
Against Raon or Dokoe, the gap in skill was so wide that a spar often meant nothing. Going all-out against opponents in their own range, even once in a while, would do them a great deal of good.
"We'll be crashing other dojos, basically."
"I like it!"
Marta grinned and threw a hand up.
"If it makes us stronger, we should do whatever it takes."
Burren nodded as well.
"Mmh…"
Runaan was asleep.
"So when do we start? We'll get ready properly and end it with a clean sweep—"
"Tomorrow."
Raon grinned and pointed at the Fifth Training Ground.
"Tomorrow at noon. We fight the Azure Hawk Squad here."
At that, every member of the Light Wind Squad snapped their eyes wide and shoved themselves upright—a reaction that had not appeared even when he had given them rest.
"Th-the Azure Hawk Squad?"
"Their numbers are no joke!"
"N-noon tomorrow? We don't even have a full day!"
"Hey, you bastard. The squad leader did give us a day!"
"Gods above!"
"If there's a devil out there, come take that guy away!"
The Light Wind Squad slammed their heads into the dirt, crying out to gods and demons alike.
"I-I'm sorry."
Wrath dropped his gaze to the ground and sighed.
"This King got wrecked too…"
A mournful cry burst from the Requiem Sword and rang through the small garden.
You did well.
Raon stroked the sobbing blade, then slid it into the scabbard at his waist.
"That was Blood Rain. How was it?"
He looked to his right with a faint smile. Roen, Yua, and Julius were standing there in a daze.
"Hhk…"
Yua's mouth trembled, and she began to cry.
"The piece itself feels bright, but the sword's cry is so sorrowful I can't hold the feeling in…"
She could not finish. Tears fell. Gifted as she was with music, she seemed to have felt the grief of the souls bound inside Blood Rain.
"I-I was deeply moved! I don't really understand Blood Rain, to be honest, but Clear Rain sets my chest on fire. I want to swing a sword right this instant!"
Julius clenched the wooden sword at his waist and smiled. His face had gone red; Clear Rain had clearly struck him to the core. It was such a typical swordsman's reaction that Raon almost laughed.
"As expected, it was remarkable."
Roen smiled gently and nodded. Yua and Julius had asked to hear Clear Rain and Blood Rain when they came to fetch him, so Raon had given a demonstration—and from Roen's expression, he too had been impressed.
"Clear Rain has risen a full level from the last time you showed it. No—several levels. Both its power and its range are in a different dimension."
"You're too kind."
Raon shook his head with a faint smile.
"And Blood Rain…"
Roen narrowed his eyes and let the words hang a moment.
"As Miss Yua said, it is a sorrowful piece. Resentment, screams, pain—even longing—are all folded into it."
He had read every emotion inside Blood Rain from a single hearing. He was no ordinary martial artist, that much was certain.
"As it stands, it will not do great harm to ordinary people. But if either the Light Wind Vice-Captain or the Requiem Sword grows even a little stronger, it may become a threat to civilians as well."
"Ah…"
"To be frank, I moderated it slightly even now."
Roen smiled faintly and gestured toward Yua and Julius. Blood Rain had originally been a sword art that only worked on White Blood Cultists who carried blood energy—but after the Requiem Sword absorbed an apostle's blood energy, it seemed to have begun affecting ordinary people as well.
"Thank you for telling me."
It had been a long time since he had used Blood Rain. Roen's words were a genuine help.
"If you regulate the range and power of Blood Rain and Clear Rain, you will be able to tune your aura control to a much finer degree. It will be difficult, but it should prove a great study."
"Yes. I'll work at it."
Raon nodded. With the Ring of Fire at the seventh star, modulating Clear Rain and Blood Rain would not be all that hard.
"Ah—do you still have the Hwiseok Necklace the Patriarch bestowed upon you?"
As if the thought had just occurred to him, Roen lifted a finger and pointed at his own throat.
"Not on me at the moment. It's at the Annex."
The necklace had felt more like an ornament than something for real combat, so he had left it in his room.
"That necklace is a Brilliant Stone refined a further stage. Its protection against internal and external wounds, and against interference with the mind, is far superior to other Hwiseok necklaces. You would do well to wear it at all times."
"Ah. I should, then. Thank you."
Raon nodded and smiled.
"I'll take my leave, then. Let's go."
"Yeees…"
"Yes, sir!"
He led Yua and Julius toward the Annex.
Roen watched Raon's receding back and smiled.
"He always has his eyes on the heights."
And looking up did not mean he neglected those below. Young as he was, he was the kind of person who embodied a martial artist's ideal.
"May fortune favor your blade."
The clear sun of New Year's Day poured over the Lord's Manor of Zieghart.
Glenn was receiving Sheryl's report on the Heavenly Sword Squad's activities when the doors of the Audience Chamber opened, and Chad, head of the Biyeon Assembly, entered with Roen.
"P-Patriarch. We have a serious problem."
Chad ran to the center of the hall and dropped to one knee.
"A serious problem?"
Rimer, who had been leaning against a pillar, tilted his head.
"W-well, in a way we already knew this was coming, but…"
Chad lifted the documents he had brought and let out a long sigh.
"The Floating King, Roman, has sent a l-letter. He intends to hold a Life-and-Death Duel with the Light Wind Vice-Captain on the first of January, three years from now."
"Ah, that."
Rimer pushed off the pillar and flicked his fingers.
"Still, he didn't start it immediately, and he gave three years from the turn of the year. That's actually a fair amount of time, isn't it? He's a petty bastard, but a straightforward one, I'll give him that."
Rimer had thought the three years ran from the day they met. Seeing Roman grant three years from the new year, the man was not entirely without a conscience.
"So in three years… hm?"
Rimer felt the Audience Chamber go suddenly quiet and looked up at the dais.
Glenn, Sheryl standing before him, and Roen by the door were all staring at him as if they meant to kill him.
"W-what? Why are you looking at me like that!"
Rimer swallowed dryly under three pairs of eyes thick with killing intent.
"If you had done your job, it never would have come to this."
"You cockroach. Nothing better to do than cling to your subordinates just to stay alive?"
"Haha. It seems Lord Rimer really isn't earning his keep."
Glenn, Sheryl, and Roen drove their tongues into his chest in place of blades.
"Ghk…"
Rimer clutched his chest and stumbled back.
"That's going too far with the—"
"Shall I use something other than words?"
Red sparks flashed in Glenn's grip.
"No! Words are fine! Please, just use words!"
Rimer shook his head furiously and forced an awkward smile.
Glenn pinned him with a cold stare, then turned his gaze to Chad.
"It came in Roman's name?"
"Yes. Not from the South-North Alliance. It was sent in the name of the Floating King, Roman."
Chad grimaced and nodded.
"Putting only his own name on it means he doesn't intend to leave room for his faction to get involved. That filthy river-pirate bastard is using his head, is he?"
"Yes. A nasty way of doing it. He means to fight no matter what, without putting any burden on the South-North Alliance."
Sheryl and Roen clicked their tongues, then glared at Rimer again.
"Urgh…"
Rimer read the room and edged sideways, little by little.
A chill aura rose as Sheryl tapped the sword strapped across her back.
"Patriarch. Rather than putting this on Raon, wouldn't it be better to crush the South-North Alliance quickly? We already have their location."
She looked to Chad as if expecting backup.
"Ah, yes. W-we've identified the location of their main stronghold."
Chad nodded. Glenn had made it a top-priority order, so he had driven the Biyeon Assembly agents hard and found the South-North Alliance's headquarters. Their actual fighting strength, however, was still unknown.
He was about to report that they did not yet know the Alliance's forces when an immense, seething presence flared up from beneath Glenn's feet.
"It is past time we disposed of those who do not know their place."
He rose as if he meant to march on the South-North Alliance that very instant. A presence like a moving mountain shook the Lord's Manor.
"W-wait! We still don't know who is even th—"
Chad tried to stop him, but Glenn's gaze did not so much as flicker.
"It does not matter who is there, or how many. We simply erase them all."
"That's our Patriarch!"
Sheryl threw a fist in the air and cheered.
"The Heavenly Sword Squad will take the lead!"
"W-wait—"
"You are both getting far too excited."
As Chad's jaw trembled, Roen stepped in front of the two of them with a gentle smile.
"As I have said before, a person with a purpose grows stronger. Young Master Raon is already growing faster than before in preparation for his match with the Floating King, Roman. I believe it would be best to leave it."
He smiled, recalling the improved Blood Rain Raon had played for him not long ago.
"Would it not be better to wait two and a half years and let Roman die of illness?"
"I-illness? I had not heard that Roman was si—"
"Ah. It is an assassination method I have been researching of late. The approach is quite simple."
Roen drew a chilly smile and dragged his gathered fingers across his own throat.
"Hmph. Not a bad idea."
Glenn nodded slowly and settled back into the throne.
"True. There's still plenty of time. We can clear them out in two and a half years years."
Sheryl rolled her wrist and stepped back. The two of them were talking about the South-North Alliance as if they were sweeping pebbles off a path.
"Uh…"
Chad's jaw trembled as he watched the three of them treat the South-North Alliance like a handful of stones. He still could not get used to these people.
"What is the Light Wind Squad doing at present?"
Glenn looked at Rimer, who had shrunk into a corner.
"L-lately the training has been focused on spars with other squads."
Rimer muttered that he had come to report exactly that, and glared at Chad—as if to ask why the man had to show up now, of all times.
"I've been hearing strange things about the Light Wind Squad lately."
Sheryl narrowed her eyes at Rimer.
"Hm? Like what?"
"They're not calling them the Light Wind. They're calling them the Mad Dog Squad."
"Mm…"
Rimer chewed his lip and looked up at the dais. Lightning was leaping in Glenn's eyes.
"Why are they called mad dogs?"
"Th-that's…"
"They're called that because, like mad dogs, they never back down when they face an enemy. They bite down to the end and take the win. Apparently they even bark like dogs sometimes, though I haven't seen that myself…"
Sheryl explained, in Rimer's place, why the Light Wind Squad was being called the Mad Dog Squad.
"In any case, the Light Wind Squad's sparring record is quite good."
"That's right. As far as I know, they've won more than twenty-five of thirty matches. Recently they've been almost undefeated."
Chad picked up Sheryl's words and nodded.
"Raon is called the Mad Dog Captain as well—the trainer who handles those mad dogs."
"Not bad."
Glenn nodded slowly. He seemed satisfied with both the nickname and the Light Wind Squad's win rate.
"Young Master Raon appears to have a gift not only for martial power, but for handling people."
"When I went out to train with them before, the unit leaders followed him well."
Roen and Sheryl smiled along with him.
"Rimer."
Glenn cut the smile off and looked at him.
"Yes?"
A chill ran down Rimer's spine. He swallowed dryly.
"It is good that the Light Wind Squad's skill is rising."
"I-I'm just grateful the kids are keeping up."
"In that case. Where did the Light Wind Squad spar yesterday?"
"…Yes? Yesterday?"
They sparred yesterday?
Recent training had been handled by Raon and Dokoe, and yesterday Rimer had spent the entire day in personal cultivation. He had no idea.
If I don't know this, I die…
Every cell that had kept him alive until now was screaming. Fail to answer this question, and he was a dead man.
They fought the Azure Hawk Squad first, then the Flying Heaven Squad. The third was…
He wrung his brain for the answer, and it came to him—the one place they had not yet fought.
"The Iron Combat Squad! It was the Iron Combat Squad!"
Rimer thrust a fist in the air and shouted. Glenn's pressure, however, did not vanish. It doubled, and crushed down on his shoulders.
"Urgh…"
"Th-that Iron Combat Squad was promoted to the Iron Blood Sword Squad last year."
Chad whispered, turning his head slightly aside.
"A squad leader who does not even know what training his members are doing, or whom they are sparring with?"
"Th-that's, I was yesterday—"
Glenn flicked a hand as if he did not want to hear it. Sheryl and Roen approached at a leisurely pace.
"You're really hopeless. You went to the gambling den and lost money again, didn't you?"
"This time, even I find my blood boiling a little. Hahaha."
The two of them stopped in front of Rimer, killing intent in their eyes.
"I spent all day yesterday in training! That brat Raon has been making me train too—"
"That brat Raon? A nobody like you dares address the Patriarch's grandson so casually?"
"Ghk!"
Sheryl kicked Rimer in the side, flung him into the corner, and started beating him.
The blows landed without pause. Chad swallowed hard as he watched Rimer take the beating without mercy.
I-it's certain.
The person the Patriarch cherished most was Raon Zieghart.
Alisa, the previous head of the Biyeon Assembly, had predicted wrong. It was not only Glenn. Sheryl and Roen, who could be called the real power of the house, cherished Raon more than anyone else.
I can't just sit here, can I?
To survive in Zieghart, it was not anyone else he needed to get on the good side of. It was Raon. Listening to Rimer's screams, Chad began composing the greeting he would offer him.
"Head of the Biyeon Assembly."
Glenn closed his eyes, opened them, and looked at Chad.
"Yes!"
"A request regarding the White Blood Cult came in recently, did it not?"
"It is a request from Gransavil. Missing persons have surged since the end of last year, and recently corpses with the flesh torn off were found at Molv Lake. They suspect the White Blood Cult."
Chad nodded, recalling the request that had come in a few days prior.
"Did the client make any particular demands?"
"They asked us to come quickly, and said that if possible, they wanted the Light Wind Squad sent. It seems to be because of the Light Wind Vice-Captain's—no, 'Lord Vice-Captain of the Light Wind Squad's'—feat of cutting down the Fourth Apostle."
"Is that so."
Glenn nodded, a faint smile touching his mouth.
"Three months is more than enough rest."
They had spent the interval on nothing but training and spars. It was time to give those children real combat experience again.