You Crossed the Line
Raon stepped into a restaurant at the mouth of the alley and ordered a sandwich.
"Urrgh..."
Wrath let out a groan of pure dissatisfaction.
"This is not what you promised!"
It was closed. What did you expect me to do?
The barbecue restaurant Wrath had been craving had apparently stayed open until dawn, and the doors were shut tight. True to Gransavil — a city far more alive at night than by day — precious few places had opened for the morning, leaving them with no real choice.
"This King swore never to trust that snout of yours again, and yet This King has been deceived once more!"
Wrath's hands trembled against the tabletop.
"From this moment on, This King shall never again believe a word you—"
Once this job is done, I'll try every famous dish in this city.
"Lies! Those are lies without a shred of doubt!"
You know as well as I do it won't be long now.
Raon lifted a finger. He wasn't pointing at the restaurant ceiling — he was pointing at the spell formation that hung above it.
That formation opened last night. Meaning the spell will activate today.
The malevolent energy and blood aura he had sensed before entering the restaurant the night before had been fragments of power bursting free at the instant the formation unsealed. Now that the spell had been opened, they would surely trigger it before long, so the energy dwelling within would not go to waste.
"To This King's eyes, that energy is not yet complete. The vessel has not been filled."
You're right. But the sacrifice is sitting right here.
Raon smiled faintly and pointed at himself.
"You, a sacrifice?"
That's right. They definitely know I'm here.
Given the present situation, it was certain that White Blood Cultists were hiding even inside the Black Market. After he had defeated the 7th Apostle and killed the 4th, the White Blood Cult regarded him as a mortal enemy. There was no chance they would overlook information about him.
They'll come after me soon enough. It won't take long. Just hold on a little.
"I-is that true?"
Wrath blinked, having already forgotten what he had said twenty seconds ago.
Of course.
"Urrgh..."
"Your meal is ready."
Just as Wrath's eyes were gleaming with suspicion, a waiter set down two sandwiches filled with egg and ham.
"Thank you."
Since he was in the middle of talking with Wrath, Raon simply placed the plates on the table.
"What do you think you're doing?"
No, this time you can really trust me—
"Shut your mouth and eat. This King's stomach lining is stuck to his back!"
Ha.
Raon let out a dry laugh. He had thought they were talking about food they would eat later, but apparently Wrath was far more concerned with the sandwich sitting right in front of him. Was this really a Demon King?
With a dubious look, he took a bite. The thick ham and cheese, together with the soft egg, blended perfectly with the crispy toasted bread, filling his mouth with a rich, savory flavor.
Not bad.
"Hahh. They say hunger is the best seasoning, and this isn't half bad."
Wrath grinned from ear to ear, delighted by a single sandwich.
"The bread is crooked! The balance is ruined. Stuff the ham properly between the slices!"
"Mm..."
Watching Wrath enjoy himself, Raon smacked his lips.
I feel like I'm doing something terrible.
To get this passionate over a single sandwich... this time, once the job was finished, he would have to treat him to a proper meal. Renting out the finest restaurant in the city and throwing a banquet for the entire Light Wind Squad didn't sound like a bad idea either.
Now, let's check that.
Raon called up the rewards he had not been able to properly examine thanks to Wrath's rampage.
It even came with stat bonuses.
He had assumed it was merely a title with a name attached, but it raised his stats as well. An unexpected delight brought a smile to his face.
Formation Deciphering came with no additional stats. Instead, it sharpened his ability to examine the effects of every kind of formation. Since it was a growth-type trait, if he developed it properly it would prove far more useful than mere points on a ledger.
And on top of that, the stats went up too.
Finally, five points to every stat. To receive rewards like these right before a battle felt as though the goddess of victory herself were blessing him, telling him he had no choice but to win.
"Kh..."
Wrath, who had been delighted by the sandwich, bit down hard on his lip as he looked at the messages.
"To hand out rewards like that for merely deciphering a spell..."
If you think about it, it's only natural they gave them.
Raon waved a hand dismissively.
The system gives rewards based on the achievements you've accomplished. This time I deciphered a spell formation of enormous scale, so of course a fitting reward would follow.
The system moved efficiently. Even if it had nothing to do with martial arts, he had accomplished something worthy of being called an achievement, and it had simply given him the corresponding rewards. Everything he had received was related to spells or formations.
"Kkugh..."
Wrath had nothing to say and simply ground his teeth.
"When This King returns, the system shall be the first thing This King smashes to pieces! This King shall never use it again!"
Do as you like.
Raon shrugged. By the time Wrath went back, his own business would already be finished, so it hardly mattered.
We've finished eating, so shall we go?
He pushed the empty plate forward.
"W-what! Where do you think you're going after eating a mere sandwich!"
To the kids.
Raon left the money on the table and stood up.
I need to tell them the plan to smash the White Blood Cult.
From the moment she received Raon's orders, Marta had been following Luna. Just as the girl had said before, she was living in a ramshackle hut with her two younger siblings.
Marta had given them enough money that she expected them to be eating well today — but whether it had all been taken as tribute, the children were filling their stomachs with hard, dry bread.
"Unni. You eat too."
Luna's little sister held out half a piece of bread. The even younger brother sniffled and offered the bread he had been eating as well.
"I already ate outside, so don't worry about me. You two eat first."
Luna smiled faintly and pushed the bread back toward her siblings.
Watching her, Marta scowled.
They got her.
There were bruises on her face that hadn't been there before. She had gone to pay tribute, had more than the tribute amount stolen from her, and had been beaten on top of it.
Those sons of bitches...
Seeing Luna clutch her stomach while looking at her siblings, Marta was reminded of her former self, and a slow heat began to rise in her chest.
Should I go beat the shit out of them?
That money was hers, after all. Watching little kids get beaten and fill their stomachs with dry bread made her blood boil. She found herself wondering whether she ought to invent a decent excuse and go wreck whoever was responsible.
"Those the children?"
"Hup—!"
Raon's even voice came from behind her while she was still turning it over. She nearly jumped out of her skin, but he clamped a hand over her mouth, and she just managed to swallow the sound.
"You damn bastard! Make some noise when you walk up!"
"I can hardly do that here, can I?"
Raon smiled mildly and spread an aura barrier to keep any sound from leaking out.
"That girl is Luna, right? It isn't just the wounds. Blood aura has settled through her entire body."
He narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her, murmuring that it was as expected, and nodded.
"B-blood aura through her entire body? You can see that?"
"I'm in fairly good condition at the moment."
"Mm..."
I can't feel a thing.
If she hadn't seen Luna's wounds, she never would have imagined there was blood aura in the girl at all. Raon, sensing the blood aura inside Luna's body from this distance, looked like a monster.
"This isn't the first time that child has buried stones imbued with blood aura. She's been exposed to it while burying them, and it's accumulated in her body. It's uncontrolled, moving however it likes."
"Th-then what happens?"
"She's fine for now. The moment the spell activates, she'll die."
"Die?"
"That's right. The formation won't activate in a complete state. It will take those children as its first feed — the ones who have been close by and most heavily exposed to the blood aura."
A chilling light entered Raon's eyes as he clenched his fist.
"I-is there a way? You're not just going to leave them like this, are you?"
"Have you grown attached already? That's not like you."
"Shut up!"
Marta chopped a hand through the air. She couldn't bring herself to say that looking at them felt like looking at herself before she had entered House Zieghart. It was too embarrassing.
"It could be dangerous."
"I don't care."
If it meant shattering the White Blood Cult's plan to use even children like these as sacrificial lambs, she didn't care what wounds she took.
"That's a good look in your eyes. With that kind of resolve, I ought to trust you."
Raon smiled and nodded.
"That man Tus will summon those children soon. When he does, you and Team One will tail them one by one..."
Denning Rose, branch manager of the Black Market in Gransavil, walked through an underground passage crusted with dried blood.
This place should have collapsed.
When she had first been assigned to Gransavil, she had confirmed with her own eyes that this path was blocked. But the underground before her now was wide open, and the floor was covered in dried bloodstains.
No — never mind whether this path collapsed or not...
Why was she here?
She was walking of her own accord, and yet she had no idea why she had come, or why she was walking down this corridor. It felt as though her body and her mind were operating separately. She could not stop. She could not sit down. The only choice left to her was to keep walking.
After a long stretch through the sticky, blood-caked underground, a round passage leaked a red glow. Still without knowing why, her feet crossed the threshold.
A vast cavern spread with a gentle light like pouring moonlight. At the center of a space piled with corpses in a mountain so high it made her want to retch, a handsome young man was sitting.
That man is...
Denning Rose swallowed dryly. Violet hair. Narrow, slit-like eyes. And the sword scar carved into his chest. As a Black Market branch manager, it was a description she could not fail to recognize. The 7th Apostle of the White Blood Cult.
"Living in the same city, and this is the first time I've seen you in person. Denning Rose."
The 7th Apostle rose, wearing a smile that looked almost kind.
"Ah..."
Before she knew it, Denning Rose was on her knees, her head bowed. It was not because she was afraid of the 7th Apostle, nor because she was terrified. Just as she had come here without knowing it, her body simply responded.
"A woman who kneels from the start isn't much to my taste."
The 7th Apostle chuckled and approached, coming to a stop in front of her lowered head.
"Kkugh..."
Denning Rose clenched her teeth. She wanted to stand no matter what it took, but her body would not move. Her limbs were as heavy as if they had turned to stone.
"What's wrong? Body not doing what you tell it?"
"W-what the hell did you do to me..."
She forced her tongue to work. It felt as though she were speaking with someone else's mouth.
"Who knows?"
The 7th Apostle tilted his chin to one side and crooked a finger, and Denning Rose's head lifted.
"Shall I tell you why you people never found us?"
"A mole, I assume..."
Denning Rose looked into the 7th Apostle's narrow eyes and let out a murky breath. After seeing Raon's information leak, she had been certain there was a spy.
And an executive, at that.
Information on Raon had been classified at the highest level; no one below executive rank could even look it up. She had already finished drawing up a plan to find the traitor — and now she was going to die here without even putting it into motion. The frustration sat like a stone in her chest.
"Not a complete idiot, then."
The 7th Apostle nodded slowly, as if satisfied.
"So who do you suppose it is?"
He flicked his fingers, and five figures in white robes walked out from the far side of the cavern.
"Ah..."
Denning Rose's eyes flew wide. All five who had emerged were Black Market personnel, and one of them was an executive. The very man she had most hoped was not the spy — Philip, who ran the antique shop with a direct line to the Black Market branch.
"Philip, why would you..."
Even when she asked, they gave no answer. They merely knelt before the 7th Apostle and bowed their heads.
"Do you know why I'm telling you all this?"
"Because you intend to kill me."
"No."
The 7th Apostle snorted and shook his head.
"Because your body is no longer yours."
"Th-then my current state is..."
"That's right. I'm controlling you."
He crooked his fingers as if working the strings of a puppet.
"And not only you. Every last insect on the surface is in the palm of my hand. If I ordered them to die, they would drive a blade into their own hearts and kill themselves."
"W-what in the world..."
"From today, this Gransavil will become a vast farm. The moths who've thrown themselves into pleasure will offer up their money and their blood without even knowing they're dying. That is what the spell is for."
The 7th Apostle pointed at the ceiling. Within the gentle light, a colossal mass of blood aura was writhing.
"Don't worry. As the branch manager of Gransavil, you need to stay alive."
"Nnh..."
Denning Rose's lips trembled. This was not something as simple as brainwashing. She could not even resist, which meant she could not report to Black Market headquarters. She might spend the rest of her life living under the 7th Apostle's dominion.
"Denning Rose."
The 7th Apostle looked down into her terror-crushed eyes and smiled.
Behind the lodging, Raon finished inspecting a body and an aura that had grown with his risen stats, then lifted his head. A darkened sky. The sun had already gone down, without his noticing.
It was not even the hour for dusk, and yet the whole world was pitch-black. No moon, no stars, no clouds — a grotesque sky.
Footsteps, light and unhurried, approached from behind. He turned, and Denning Rose, branch manager of the Black Market, was walking toward him.
"Lord Raon."
She came right up to him and bowed with impeccable courtesy.
"We have captured a White Blood Cultist."
"A White Blood Cultist?"
"Yes. We intend to interrogate them. Would you accompany us?"
"Of course."
Raon nodded and shrugged on the coat he had hung on the wall.
"Thank you."
He followed Denning Rose's gently smiling back out onto Gransavil's main avenue.
The distinctive buildings and brilliant lights still poured out their splendor — but one thing was different from yesterday.
People. On a thoroughfare that should have been packed with countless passersby, there was not a single human being.
Denning Rose walked on with the same stride and the same pace, as if it were of no interest to her at all.
After a long walk she stopped at the very heart of the avenue — the place in this city where the most people ought to have been moving. Not so much as an ant was in sight.
"Lord Raon."
Denning Rose turned slowly. From beneath the black eyepatch painted with a rose, a single tear slipped free.
"I'm sorry."
With those words she stepped back. At the same instant, every person who had been hiding in the buildings burst out into the open.
Even at a rough count, more than a hundred people ringed Raon in, gray light welling in their pupils.
Behind them, White Blood Cultists in snow-white robes raised weapons of every kind and flared their blood aura in open threat.
As Raon felt the killing intent of the crowd and furrowed his brow, a pale pool welled up beside Denning Rose.
The liquid writhed like beer foam, then slowly surged upward and took human shape. Violet hair. Slit eyes. A face, once seen, that could never be forgotten. The 7th Apostle smiled, brimming with confidence.
"I suppose I should say it's been a while."
He flicked his coat and raised a pale hand.
"Raon Zieghart."
"7th Apostle."
Raon looked at him with his brows faintly lowered.
"This was your doing."
"That's right. All of it is my work. I didn't expect you to arrive quite so conveniently, though."
He giggled and spread both arms wide.
"Well? How do you like my welcome?"
"A welcome, is it..."
Raon narrowed his eyes and closed his hand around the hilt of the Requiem Sword at his back.
"Ah, ah — I'm not finished speaking."
The 7th Apostle shook his head at his leisure.
"These people, you see, are not cultists."
He lifted a finger and pointed at the sky.
Even without circulating the Ring of Fire, a vast thundercloud of blood aura was visible to the eye.
"Have you realized it now?"
Watching what looked like shock on Raon's face, the 7th Apostle's smile grew even deeper.
"They have merely taken in blood aura without knowing it, under the influence of that spell. They are not our cultists. They are ordinary insects who lived in this place."
He seized Denning Rose by the hair and hoisted her up.
"......"
Even with her head wrenched back far enough that her hair might tear free, Denning Rose did not let out a single sound, and her expression did not change.
"I know the use of that dagger of yours. They say it sings a song that brings death to cultists who possess blood aura, through the cry of the blade. If you use it here, those insects will all die as well."
The 7th Apostle gestured from Denning Rose to the people packing the street.
"Lord Raon..."
Whether the 7th Apostle had loosened his hold or not, a voice like something trapped behind a wall spilled from Denning Rose. A desperate sound coming from a serene face. It was grotesque enough to raise the hair on the back of the neck.
"Frost-Flower Sword Hero, is it. I've heard a chivalrous swordsman draws his blade for others. I find myself curious what you will do. Will you kill the innocent for your own sake? Or will you run?"
He flicked his fingers as if granting a choice.
At the snap, the people drew weapons of every kind from their clothes and closed in on Raon. Gray-flooded pupils glittered with a ghastly light.
"A chivalrous swordsman? I never asked for a name like that."
Raon drew the Requiem Sword without hesitation.
A blade of crimson light bared itself, and a howl of demonic energy like rolling thunder shook the entire avenue.
"Kkugh..."
"Gahk!"
"Urgh..."
The ordinary people who carried blood aura, and the White Blood Cultists guarding them from behind, all collapsed to the ground, spraying blood.
"Kahahahahaha!"
The 7th Apostle clutched his forehead and burst into wild laughter.
"Yes! I knew you'd do that! That's who you are! This world doesn't know the real you. The only one who can understand that cruel, vicious true nature of yours is me!"
He tore open his robe, revealing the sword scar on his chest where the Requiem Sword had once cut him.
"Now, let us begin. Your blood will—"
"...Huh?"
The 7th Apostle's jaw trembled as he looked at Denning Rose beside him. She was not dead. She was breathing, however faintly.
And not only Denning Rose. Every human into whom blood aura had been forced was alive and breathing. Only the cultists who had been guarding them from behind had had their lives cut short.
"You... what in the..."
The 7th Apostle rolled his eyes as if he could not comprehend it.
"What?"
"From now on, the White Blood Cult will flee at the mere sight of my shadow."
Raon raised the Requiem Sword and leveled it at the 7th Apostle. The blade, dyed the same color as his red eyes, shone with a languid, ominous light.
"I will not leave a single blood fiend alive on this land."