The Flame That Split the Blade

Marta Zieghart had always been proud.

The reason she'd washed out of the previous class had nothing to do with a lack of skill. She'd beaten two direct descendants half to death after they wounded her pride, and that was that.

A string of tedious complications had followed, so she'd intended to keep her head down at the 5th Training Ground. But there was one person who kept getting under her skin.

Raon Zieghart.

That brat who didn't act like a child at all had been grating on her from the start.

She'd wanted to fight him then and there, but as Rimer had said, beating down a kid who hadn't even learned aura yet would have been a disgrace. So she'd held back.

Which was why, when she heard Raon had finally learned aura, she'd been happier than anyone. At last, she could pay back that old humiliation.

And so the spar began, and she crossed blades with Raon.

His talent for swordsmanship shone even brighter in actual combat. Facing a sword art he'd never seen before, he still put up an almost perfect defense.

But the moment she channeled Titan Aura, Raon was shoved back as lightly as a paper doll.

Just as she'd expected.

The gap in the size and density of their aura was the difference between heaven and earth.

Every part of the fight was in Marta's grasp. If she wanted, she could shatter Raon's bones right then and there.

He had to know that. And yet the light in Raon's eyes refused to die.

Come at me all you want!

That was the look on his face—pure provocation.

It was absurd. Like watching a stupid rabbit that didn't even realize whose hand was around its throat.

Pathetic.

Marta sneered and brought her sword down, pouring in stronger aura, more force.

A tremor ran through the sparring ground.

But he held. She struck again and again, and still he wouldn't fall.

Irritation flared. Watching someone with bottom-of-the-barrel talent still straining to look up made her blood boil.

Don't blame me for this.

Even if his limbs broke, it couldn't be helped. Marta drew up even more intense aura and leveled her sword.

The Boulder Stance. She intended to punch through Raon's defense with the force of a sharp-edged rock.

Just as she was about to drive her foot into the ground, a red flower bloomed at the tip of Raon's blade.

A tiny flame.

But the instant she saw that flame—redder and more beautiful than anything—a chill crawled down her spine.

What is that?

It was eerie. An unnameable dread washed over her.

No!

Marta clenched her teeth. For even a moment, she'd been frightened by the likes of Raon. She couldn't believe it. No—she didn't want to believe it.

She brought down the Titan Aura she'd gathered on the blunt edge of her training sword.

In that instant, Raon took a single step. The small flame burning on his training sword drew a line.

A streak of crimson light, carved from left to right. The Titan Aura that touched that line melted away.

And then the training sword, hard as it was, split cleanly in two and went spinning through the air.

The sound of the broken blade burying itself in the training ground bored into Marta's ears.

"Ah…"

Marta stared at the halved sword with vacant eyes.

"H-how did this…"

Her lips and hands trembled at once, as if she couldn't believe it.

"Is that the talent you were talking about?"

Raon Zieghart's eyes were ice-cold. The flame that had burned at his sword's tip was already gone.

"A talent that can't even withstand a single clumsy stroke. If that's all it is, I'd say it's meaningless."

"You… you…"

Unlike her usual self, Marta Zieghart couldn't manage a single retort. Like her sword, she hung her head in two.

"Wh-what was that? What just happened?!"

"The training sword wrapped in Titan Aura got cut in a single stroke."

"Th-that's insane…"

Raon felt the trainees' gazes shooting into him from every direction. Shock, disbelief, astonishment. They looked like they'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Huh…"

That included Rimer, standing in front of him. The elf's long ears had gone even sharper, his eyes wide as saucers.

Cutting Marta's sword in a single stroke had apparently been a surprise even to him.

Well, I was surprised too.

The power of the First Flame, the opening stage of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, had far exceeded his expectations. If he hadn't controlled it properly, he might have cut Marta herself.

If the second star is already this strong…

His heart hammered at the thought of what the third star and beyond might be capable of.

"Nngh…"

A groan from below drew his gaze down. Marta's black eyes were burning a furious red.

She's not going to accept this.

That wasn't the face of someone who'd surrendered. She hadn't even properly seen her sword get cut, so she wasn't going to swallow the loss.

"I don't accept this."

The words he'd expected spilled from Marta's mouth exactly as predicted. She flung the split sword aside and clenched her fists.

Titan Aura wrapped her body, forging a presence as unbreakable as stone.

"Figured as much."

Raon nodded and set down his training sword.

"I'll make you say you lost with your own mouth."

"That's never happening!"

Marta stamped the ground. This time she didn't come straight on—she charged in from the left. The movement was stiff, but it was fast, and it was heavy.

"Haaah!"

She closed the distance in an instant and drove a fist in with a shout.

Raon smashed the punch down with his elbow. The monstrous impact twisted Marta's body.

But she didn't stop. She clenched her teeth and poured her fists out to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠very end.

He traced a circle with his palm, softly catching the punch, then drove a kick into Marta's abdomen.

"Ghk!"

Even with a clean hit, Marta only let out a thin groan and refused to give ground. It was a thick willpower, well matched to her dense aura.

"I-I'm not done yet!"

Marta bit down on her lip and threw another punch. Even in the middle of her panic, the martial arts of a great house still shone through—her fist traced a proper path.

Still not enough, though.

Fast, precise, packed with powerful aura—and that was all. Her conditioning was still a long way off.

He slipped the fist shooting toward his forehead and chopped a knife-hand into Marta's waist.

"Ghk!"

The shock punched through her Titan Aura, and saliva spilled from Marta's mouth. She flinched for a moment, then came back even faster. It was a savagery that didn't match her refined looks at all.

Her durability, at least, is impressive.

Taking a string of punches that would have dropped an adult swordsman and still counterattacking—her willpower and physical toughness were well beyond a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trainee's level.

"Hyaaah!"

Marta ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stomped. The sand spread across the sparring ground kicked up and briefly blotted out his vision. Before he could even read her presence, fists came pouring in from the right.

They hit like rocks from a catapult. Every time he blocked with his forearm, his whole body shook.

"Uwaaah!"

As if she refused to let the opening she'd barely seized slip away, Marta held her breath and threw punch after punch without number.

The instant she paused after twenty rapid-fire blows to catch her breath, Raon's fist slammed into her abdomen.

"Guhk!"

Marta clutched her stomach and staggered back. Disbelief flooded her eyes.

"For all that talk, your fists aren't much either."

Raon gave the arm and wrist he'd used to block her punches a light shake.

"H-how…"

"Skillfully."

He mocked her confusion, rolling his wrist.

The Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames is excellent for defense, too.

Perhaps because he'd taken an unquenchable flame as his image, the aura of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames was efficient not only in attack but in defense as well.

"Huuuh…"

Marta bit her lip and lifted her head. Titan Aura began to condense in her clenched fists.

Single Point—the technique of gathering aura into one place. To already be using that at her age… her talent really was outstanding.

The excitement had left her face. A cold light had returned to the eyes that had been full of rage.

"I'll admit it. You're strong."

The energy gathered in Marta's fists took on a proper shape. It meant she'd reached the level of a Sword User.

"If you get past this, I'll accept the loss!"

Marta charged like a bear that had spotted prey. It was the weight of a boulder rolling down from a mountain peak.

"Huu."

Raon let out a thin breath. He planted a true step and threw his fist.

The rotation that started at his ankle climbed through his thigh and reached his waist, and the punch he drove out in that instant carried explosive force.

The fist wreathed in the flame of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames shattered the mass of brown aura and twisted Marta's arm.

"Ah…"

Titan Aura tore apart in shreds, and Marta's bloodshot face came into view.

Caught in the aftershock of the punch, she reeled like a reed in a storm and went flying.

"Nngh…"

Marta's neck trembled, then her eyes closed and she toppled backward. Even unconscious, she never unclenched her fists.

Her willpower, at least, is remarkable.

It was hard to believe this was a child who wasn't even fifteen yet. It was more surprising than her skill or her talent.

"Hah!"

"Wha…"

"Th-that was overwhelming."

"That doesn't make sense. How did he do that to Lady Marta…"

The trainees who'd followed Marta and the ones who'd stood against her alike couldn't close their mouths.

"Raon Zieghart…"

Burren stared at Raon, his clenched fists trembling.

"……"

Runaan wore her usual blank expression, but she must have been excited—cold air spilled from her slightly parted lips.

"Aigoo…"

Rimer stood dazed for a moment, then immediately ran over to check on the fallen Marta.

"Tsk. I was going to chew her out, and she goes and faints on me."

After confirming her condition, Rimer clicked his tongue at length.

"That's it for today. All of you, go back and think about what you were still lacking."

"Y-yes, sir."

"Everyone except Raon, dismissed."

"Why am I…"

"I've got something to give you, and a lecture I haven't delivered yet."

He grinned, then vaulted over the training ground wall and ran toward the infirmary.

"Raon Zieghart."

While Raon was staring blankly at the wall Rimer had jumped, Burren approached.

"I expected you'd catch up."

The smile on his face was hard to read—half admiration, half anticipation.

"I'm not Marta. Even if you pull ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ahead like a rabbit, I won't give up, and even if I crawl along like a tortoise, I won't let my guard down. At the graduation exam that's coming, I'll stake everything I have and beat you."

With that, Burren left the training ground. He looked almost refreshed.

He's definitely changed.

The Burren stuffed with stubbornness and jealousy was gone. It was as if he'd realized something—he'd discarded his arrogance and filled the space with genuine confidence.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind. He turned, and Runaan was staring at him with those wide purple eyes.

She gave a big, slow nod. It seemed to mean well done. Clutching a box of bead ice cream tightly to her chest, she trotted out of the training ground.

"Honestly."

Raon opened his mouth, then shut it. He still had no idea what that girl was trying to do. He shook his head and walked over beside the platform where the chair sat.

He perched on the chair to wait for Rimer, and a book on the platform caught his eye.

It was the book Rimer used as a pillow whenever he took a nap. Raon opened it.

"Huh?"

As he scanned the contents, his eyes went wide.

This is…

He'd thought Rimer just carried it around to sleep on. That wasn't it at all. Inside the book, the trainees' strengths and weaknesses—and methods for improvement—were written out in careful detail.

He read the entry on Burren on the first page.

It was the kind of observation you couldn't write unless you'd been watching a trainee closely. And it wasn't just one entry—there were as many as there were trainees.

And me…

Raon looked up his own entry.

The notes on him were so detailed they almost felt like too much.

Instructor Rimer…

He'd always thought Rimer just slacked off and goofed around. In truth, the man had been watching every last one of them with painstaking care.

Raon felt something warm fill his chest and smiled. It was a feeling he'd never had before, but it wasn't a bad one at all.

"How unexpected."

Right?

"Still, This King does not like him. He remains insolent and infuriating."

Ever since failing to devour Raon's body, Wrath had started looking at the world even more pessimistically.

"When This King was in the Demon Realm, pointed-ears and dwarves once crossed over from the surface. This King froze every last one of those cocky little—"

You really talk a lot.

Raon flicked the flower bracelet, and Wrath shut his mouth. The more he talked, the harder he was to deal with.

"Ghk—This King is the very definition of taciturn. Among the monarchs of the Demon Realm, This King was foremost in saying the least, and you dare claim This King talks too much? What nonsense is this. Talking too much means—"

Ugh.

He flicked the bracelet again to shut him up, and that was when Rimer came back over the wall.

He wasn't a thief—why did he always leave the door sitting there and come in like that?

"Raon."

Rimer approached with a smile, surprise still sitting on his face.

"You only just learned aura, and that was already excellent control. That said, deliberately taking hits and throwing away your sword were things you didn't need to do."

Rimer grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's the instructor talking, though. As a person, I was more than satisfied with that match. Congratulations on becoming the real top of the class. This is yours now."

He held out the wooden case he'd been carrying. It was the elixir Marta had put up.

"Thank you."

Raon accepted the elixir and bowed his head to Rimer.

"It was a bet between you kids. You don't need to thank me."

"No. Thank you."

This wasn't gratitude for the elixir. It was gratitude for watching over their training all this time, and for all the advice he'd given.

He might show up late and slack off, but when it counted, he'd given them a proper education.

If it hadn't been for him, Raon might still not have learned the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames.

In his previous life he'd only ever known handlers, never a teacher. A man like Rimer more than deserved his thanks.

"Anyway."

Rimer gave a short laugh. He looked at everyone with a face that was simply, genuinely pleased.

"Then I'll be going."

"Hold on."

He crooked his index and middle fingers together and beckoned.

"I told you. You and I have somewhere to be."

"Somewhere to be?"

"The Audience Chamber of the Lord."

Rimer grinned and pointed west with a finger.

"The Family Head has summoned you."