The Demon Lord's True Form
The silver frost storm died away, and Wrath's form emerged from within it. Raon swallowed dryly and narrowed his eyes. ...Is that Wrath's true appearance?
What seized the eye first were Wrath's own. From within those slender, deep-set lids, sky-blue irises like polished glass beads cast a soft, luminous glow.
Next came the long hair cascading all the way to his waist. Its color shimmered a deep blue like the North Sea, then shifted toward an emerald hue like the waters of the southern ocean.
His features were finely drawn yet strikingly defined, pulling the gaze in like a black hole. So what he said back then wasn't a lie. Whether he truly held the finest face in the Demon Realm, Raon had no way of knowing — but on this continent, looks that could rival his were vanishingly rare.
Even Raon, who had never given beauty a second thought, found that words like pretty or handsome fell short. What sprang to mind instead were mysterious and beautiful.
That's the true form of that gluttonous cotton candy? He had never in his life seen anyone whose appearance and personality were so catastrophically mismatched. He was going to have to rethink a few stereotypes about looks.
I wonder what Encia would say if she saw him. More than anything else, he found himself curious how Encia would react to Wrath.
There were, however, a couple of blemishes on the jewel.
The first was the outfit. Wrath wore a navy-blue garment, rumpled and trailing as though he had stepped out of a myth as some kind of angel.
The second was the absence of horns and wings. A Demon King ought to have black horns and wings — yet neither was anywhere in sight, which felt like a slight waste.
"It has been a truly long time since This King wore this form."
Wrath spread his long, pale fingers and offered a faint smile. He slowly lifted his gaze and looked this way.
"Thanks to you, This King has been put through every indignity imaginable."
"That's your true form?"
"Indeed. As This King said — is this not the finest face in the Demon Realm?"
"Wouldn't know. I've never been there."
Raon tipped his head slightly.
"Hmph. This King expected as much. Unlike that face of yours, you have absolutely no eye for beauty."
The moment Wrath's expression twisted, a shock like a hammer blow to the skull swept through Raon's entire body.
It wasn't even an attack. Wrath had merely drawn up his aura of rage, and Raon's heart felt as though it were sinking into the floor. What is this...? The pressure was so far beyond anything he had imagined that for a moment he even forgot he needed to breathe. He forced out a ragged breath and grimaced.
"You feel it, do you not? That This King's power is no longer what it was."
"What the hell did you do?"
This was a mental world born from the collision of his soul with Rokta's. Wrath should have been incapable of producing power beyond the wrath he currently possessed. Raon could not understand what trick had allowed him to wield this much spiritual force.
"You vermin think of soul and flesh as separate things. In the end, a soul cannot exist apart from the vessel of the body."
Wrath lifted his chin and looked down at him with a gaze of pure disdain.
"By giving This King's soul a form matching its original body, This King has become able to exercise a portion of This King's Authority."
He took another step forward. The colossal cold and rage blooming from beneath his feet made Raon's jaw tremble.
"The sacrifice was considerable — but it was worth it. If This King seizes your body as things stand, every loss can be recouped."
A chilling smile touched Wrath's lips as he stamped his foot. In that instant, a wave of incalculable rage and frost erupted outward.
Before Raon could even register what was happening, colossal mountains of ice surged up to his left, his right, and behind him.
"Hah..."
Raon's lips trembled as his eyes rolled to take it in. The enormous frost peaks were already brushing his shoulders. Had they risen so much as a finger's width closer, his arms would have been sheared off. They surged up? Is that even the right way to put it? Honestly, he hadn't even properly seen the ice mountains form.
Which meant that if Wrath had simply felt like it, Raon would already be dead and gone.
"There is no need to worry."
Wrath twirled a finger and curled his lips. It was the same old sneer — yet on that face, it looked almost elegant.
"This King is merciful. This King shall not finish you until every humiliation This King has suffered has been repaid."
"That isn't mercy. That's cruelty."
"Perhaps it is."
Before the amusement in his voice had even faded, a colossal wave of frost rolled in from beneath his feet.
"Kh..."
Raon bit down on his lip and ignited the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames. I can't treat this as the same as before. The wave was the same size as when Wrath had been a ball of cotton candy — but the power dwelling inside it was on an entirely different level. Nothing he had used until now would stop it.
He spun all seven Rings of Fire at once and poured everything into the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames. A single moment of carelessness could kill him. He had to go all out, no exceptions.
Raon clenched his molars. He dumped every scrap of energy he possessed into the blade of the Heavenly Sky Sword and unleashed the Flame Dragon Form.
A breath of fire roared out from the silver blade, surging forward to collide with the frost tide Wrath had raised.
The frost tide did not melt away as easily as before. It shoved inward against the flames of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, even with the Rings of Fire driven to their limit.
"Kh..."
I can't hold like this.
He couldn't switch to a different sword art now, and he couldn't step into footwork either. He had to find a way out while still maintaining the Flame Dragon Form. Focus. No matter what it takes— wait.
Focus. That was it.
Raon nodded to himself. If he operated the Flame Dragon Form the way he usually did, he would never last. He had to concentrate the power into a single point.
He compressed the firepower of the Flame Dragon Form down to the width of his own shoulders. As the flames gathered into one place, they began, slowly, to push Wrath's frost back.
Where the Flame Dragon Form could not cover, the frost tide crashed through and carved out blue hills of ice.
"Hah—!"
Raon sucked in a breath and grimaced. If he hadn't stopped that wave, he would have become part of those hills himself. The thought alone was horrifying.
"I don't get it. This is a mental world. How does making a true body give you that kind of power?"
He scowled at Wrath, who was still smiling.
"As This King said — the body is the soul's vessel, and its place of rest. Without a proper body, even This King, the Monarch of Wrath, would struggle to draw out true power. Even a Demon King's soul must take a shape matching its flesh before it can exercise its full ability."
Wrath flicked a finger. It was the same gesture as always — but with that face and that force behind it, there was nothing funny about it. The tension only sharpened.
"Do not worry. This King has no intention of killing you."
"What?"
"We have accumulated a certain... affection, after all. This King shall stuff you in a corner, and then repay every humiliation This King has endured."
He spread his hand again. The ground shuddered, and spikes of frost erupted upward.
Raon brought Revolving Heaven of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames crashing down. Even colliding with a rapidly spinning blade of flame, only a handful of Wrath's spikes were severed. Cutting them all is impossible. Dodging would be better.
He stepped into the Supreme Harmony Footwork and retreated. But the frost spikes burst from the ground wherever his feet landed, lunging for his soul.
"Tsk."
He clicked his tongue and took the second step of the Supreme Harmony Footwork, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the space where the spikes were erupting.
"Slow."
Wrath twirled his hand, and this time frost spikes rained down from empty air.
"Damn it!"
Raon stamped his foot into the earth and thrust the Heavenly Sky Sword toward the sky. He gathered the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames at full force and unleashed the Heavy Heavenly Cannon.
The tremendous gravitational pull generated by the Heavy Heavenly Cannon dragged in every last shard of frost that had been aiming for his throat.
The instant the spikes gathered into a single point, he detonated the Heavy Heavenly Cannon and shattered all several hundred of them at once.
"Hah..."
Raon clutched his churning chest and bent his knees slightly. He had burned through too much mental strength in a single burst; his head was swimming.
"A splendid idea has occurred to This King."
"What now..."
"The moment This King seizes your body, This King shall eat mint chocolate ice cream for all three meals. The mere thought is delightful!"
He smacked his lips as if the fantasy alone were a feast.
"Pretty modest for a Demon King."
"If it inflicts suffering upon you, modest is perfectly acceptable!"
Wrath grinned and snapped his fingers. Blue clouds bloomed across the heavens, and from within them poured a rain beyond counting. That's... Raon's hands trembled. Every single droplet carried frost energy potent enough to pierce the soul. Blocking it is impossible. Dodging all of it was equally absurd — those clouds covered this entire space. But I can't just stand here either. He was not about to become an ice skewer. He clenched his teeth and stepped into the Supreme Harmony Footwork.
Wrath's frost shower fell exactly where he stepped, as if it had known all along.
"Look at you, scurrying about like a drowned rat! What a sight!"
Wrath clutched his stomach and cackled. It was a cheap laugh that did not match that magnificent face — and somehow, it suited him perfectly anyway.
"Shall This King tell you something interesting?"
"Something interesting?"
"This world can serve as a hint toward the Sword Realm Manifestation you have so desperately wanted."
"What are you—"
The sudden mention of Sword Realm Manifestation shattered the concentration he had been building.
"The art you people call Sword Realm Manifestation is a martial discipline that uses the sword to realize one's own world. In other words, this mental realm — where imagination can accomplish anything — is the very foundation of that technique. Of course..."
Wrath snorted and waved a hand.
"For you, crushed beneath This King, it is an impossibility."
Having said his piece, he summoned even more frost. Rain poured down in greater volume than before, as if a tide were crashing from the sky itself. He said it to mock me. Raon bit his lip until it bled. That damned Demon King had brought up Sword Realm Manifestation for no other reason than to break his focus and jeer at him.
A falling droplet grazed his left arm, and a piercing pain lanced not just through his shoulder but through his entire body, as if he had been stabbed all over. Because this flesh was formed of soul, a wound in one place made everything hurt. At this rate I can't get out— wait.
Raon turned to step into his footwork, then his eyes flew wide. Flames were spreading out beneath the frost mountains and hills Wrath had first created. Those flames... They were the soul-fire he had raised at the beginning, when he fought Rokta, intending to swallow this entire space. Those lingering embers had not gone out even under Wrath's frost. They were slowly expanding their reach. Why aren't they disappearing? Compared to the rage and cold Wrath had unleashed, Raon's own mental strength was far inferior. He could not understand why those flames refused to die even beneath the frost. Unless...
Raon narrowed his eyes, looking from Wrath — still cackling — to Rokta, who knelt before the ruined castle. Because he isn't the master of this place? A hypothesis took shape.
This world had been created by the collision of his mind with Rokta's, and Rokta had already conceded defeat. Which meant that regardless of Wrath the intruder, this world was in the process of becoming Raon's alone. That's right. He said as much himself. When Wrath had first arrived here, he had said this space had little to do with him. If I can just hold out until those flames cover the castle...
He could escape Wrath.
"If you let your mind wander like that, you will not last long."
Wrath's mocking voice arrived together with a frost tide surging up from the ground. Rain of frost from above, a wave of cold from below — he was hemmed in on every side. I can't dodge this. Raon stopped. With the martial arts he had built up until now, this attack was absolutely unavoidable. But still...
There was a way.
If this place truly was, as Wrath had said, a realm where mental strength and imagination could accomplish anything, then he did not need to use the martial arts he had accumulated. He needed to use something else.
Raon drew a ragged breath and extended his left foot. What he pictured in his mind was the strongest martial artist alive — Glenn Zieghart. He recalled the day Glenn had passed the Supreme Harmony Footwork down to him.
A single step that could take him anywhere.
He drove off the ground, calling up that step — the one that could not be manifested in the original world.
It went beyond merely folding space to run through it. A footwork that leaped across space itself, as though rewriting the laws of the world, carried Raon's body in a single instant to a point behind Wrath.
One step. With a single step, he had slipped past every last shred of frost Wrath had unleashed.
"What in the...?"
Even Wrath seemed startled. He spun around, eyes wide.
"You really are Wrath."
Raon nodded, a weary smile on his face.
"Handing out a trial and a hint at the same time... you're definitely Wrath the Giving Tree."
Wrapping the entire space in frost, then mentioning imagination and thereby showing him the way out — the face had changed, but the nature was still that of Wrath, the tree that gives without holding back.
"Silence. This is nothing more than This King's amusement!"
Wrath thrust both hands forward. Blue light shimmered in his palms, and countless frost storms erupted from floor and ceiling at once, colliding with one another, swelling larger, growing more violent.
"You will never block this!"
"You're right. I'll just dodge it instead."
"You cannot!"
Wrath began steering the storms directly with his fingers.
"We'll see."
Raon wiped the cold sweat running down his brow and extended his right foot. The second step of the Supreme Harmony Footwork shot out like a bolt of light, slipping him through the storms that blanketed the space.
"Nngh!"
Wrath shifted the shape of the frost and lunged for his soul — but each time, Raon manifested Glenn's Supreme Harmony Footwork exactly as it had been shown to him, and slipped out of the zone where the shockwaves bloomed. It works. The Supreme Harmony Footwork Glenn had demonstrated in person was a high art so profound that even Wrath had wanted to learn it — and it displayed a divine ability to evade frost that covered the entire world.
"Hah."
Wrath exhaled a cold breath, his face twisting.
"A mistake. This King should never have given you time."
"You're already too late."
It was limited to this mental world — but now that he could use Glenn's Supreme Harmony Footwork, Raon was confident he could escape no matter what Wrath threw at him.
"No. It is not too late."
Wrath pointed his right hand at the sky and his left at the earth.
As both hands slowly drew toward the center, waves of frost rose from heaven and ground at once. It was a massive assault that left nowhere to dodge — not in the sky, not on the earth.
"Even you will not be able to evade this."
Wrath seemed to think it was over. His mouth stretched into a long, satisfied curl.
"Do not worry. As This King said — you will not be killed. You will simply live on inside This King!"
"Haa..."
Raon looked up at the freezing ceiling of frost that had begun to brush his hair, and let out a sigh.
"Puhahahaha! That expression is priceless! At last, This King's revenge— wait?"
Wrath burst into roaring laughter, then froze. Raon, head lowered, was not wearing a look of despair. He was smiling.
"You..."
"No. You really are too late."
Raon offered an easy smile and slid his sword back into its scabbard.
"Bluffing will avail you nothing! If This King simply crushes you like this, even you— eh?"
Wrath had been about to jab a finger at him, then his mouth fell open. Why is it so short?
His long, beautiful arms and fingers had shrunk to stubby little things, and his legs had vanished entirely. Short, blue hands. He was back in the usual form that had lived under Raon's abuse.
"Guh... What is this! What the hell is going on!"
He had been a hair's breadth from crushing Raon. He could not understand why his body had suddenly reverted.
"What in the blazes did you do!"
"It's over."
Raon snorted and pointed at the ground. The frozen land and royal castle that Rokta's soul had dragged here were gone. Only the Annex and House Zieghart remained.
"The master of this domain has been decided."
After Rokta had conceded defeat, Raon's flames had consumed this world — and the power Wrath had drawn up by revealing his true form had vanished with them.
"You were nothing more than an outsider here."
"Ah..."
Wrath seemed to grasp the situation at last. He scratched the back of his head and let out an awkward laugh.
"S-so, how was it? Was This King's jest amusing? Ehehe!"
"You're just the right size for punching."
Raon clenched both fists and started toward him.
"W-wait, This King merely wished to eat some mint chocolate..."
"Let's start with you taking a hit."