Who Do You Want to Kill?

The door to Adis Sefia's office opened without a sound, and the butler Ligwin stepped inside, bowing his head.

"Guildmaster. It is finished."

"Hmm..."

Adis, who had been reviewing documents, stopped his pen and lifted his gaze.

"How did it go?"

"As expected, it ended in the White Sword Dragon's victory."

"I see."

"However, there was something a little unusual."

"Unusual?"

"Yes. He shattered Ganggi with sword aura."

"...Is that even possible?"

Adis let out a hollow breath and set down his pen.

"I have never seen such a thing myself. It was no spur-of-the-moment improvisation—he erased Mark Goetten's Ganggi without taking a single scratch. He was a monster beyond the rumors."

Ligwin furrowed his brow as if he still could not quite believe it.

"It seems these eyes of mine are not knotholes just yet."

Adis gave a short chuckle and nodded.

"And Dorian's condition?"

"He was injured, but the White Sword Dragon intervened at the right moment. It is not a serious wound."

"Hmph..."

Adis let out a very brief sigh of relief.

"There is one more unusual point from Young Master Dorian's spar as well."

"What is it this time?"

"Young Master Dorian defeated Toten Robel."

"What?"

Adis slammed the desk and shot to his feet. It was a reaction rarely seen from a man of his cynical nature.

"I-is that true?"

"Yes. He struggled at first, but after gaining an enlightenment and rising to Expert Peak-Class, he brought Toten Robel to his knees."

"Then Dorian's injuries..."

‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Those were wounds from Mark Goetten. Even before Ganggi, he did not retreat, and held out until the very end. I have come to see Young Master Dorian in a new light."

Ligwin wore a faint smile.

"Ha, ha!"

Adis let out a hollow laugh and paced in circles around the desk.

"That child, going that far..."

"His will was unshakable. Not only in appearance, but in temperament as well, he reminded me of the young madam."

"...Yes. He does resemble her."

Adis nodded and sat back down. A gentle smile bloomed at the corners of his mouth.

"What about Phalen?"

"There was no physical shock whatsoever. She fainted, crushed beneath the White Sword Dragon's presence."

"He only made her faint..."

Adis groaned at those words.

"Raon Zieghart. He is a far more terrifying man than I thought."

"Yes. He was clearly already thinking ahead to the trials that will follow."

Ligwin nodded heavily.

"It would seem that, at this very moment, the one who has brought the greatest treasure is Young Master Dorian."

"Indeed. I never expected a martial artist who might well become the greatest on the continent to look after Dorian to this extent."

Adis lowered his gaze and finished signing the last document.

"Summon everyone for tomorrow evening's meal."

He set down his pen and smiled.

"It is time to begin the Succession Test."

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Raon finished dinner with Dorian at the restaurant inside the guild headquarters.

Ahhhhh!

Wrath let out a groan of bliss at the sight of the thoroughly emptied bowls.

Magnificent! The finest ingredients, and a chef of outstanding skill—of course the food would be delicious!

His expectations had been met in full, and he beamed with satisfaction.

However...

However?

Raon glanced at Wrath as he sipped the tea that had come with dessert.

It lacks heart.

Heart? Did you just say heart?

That is so. These dishes may be more delicious than the pineapple girl's or your head maid's cooking, but what This King truly craves is the food of the Annex. It has been too long.

Huh...

He had never imagined the word "heart" would come from a Demon King's mouth. It struck him every time—this creature really did not suit the title of Monarch of Wrath at all.

Still, that does feel good.

Hearing that Helen and Yua's cooking pulled at him more than the finest cuisine of the Sepia Merchant Guild, a smile rose to Raon's lips of its own accord.

He ate the apple that had come with the tea, then lowered his gaze.

But was Merlin really not there earlier?

He had sensed a small animal's presence in the trees, but he could not be certain it had been Merlin.

There was an animal, but whether it was that madwoman, This King cannot say. To be honest, it is truly deranged magic.

Deranged magic?

That is so. In animal form she cannot attack, and switching to her true body requires an enormous amount of mana and time, so the efficiency is utterly abysmal.

Wrath let out a hollow breath, recalling the time she had appeared as a lion.

It is magic created for the sole purpose of stalking you. She has completely lost her mind. Desire on the level of Greed, that one...

He shuddered, muttering that she was a truly terrifying woman.

Greed, huh...

A name that left Wrath's mouth only very rarely. Judging by the name, the Monarch of Greed—a Demon King overflowing with desire.

The Monarch of Greed?

That is so. A lunatic for money, that one.

Money? There's money in the Demon Realm too?

Raon tilted his head. He had always thought of the Demon Realm as a world of nothing but violence and screaming, and had never imagined it would have currency.

Do not look down on the Demon Realm!

Wrath puffed up his cotton-candy body and bellowed.

Intelligent beings live there—you think there would be no money?

Ah, sorry.

It was a fair point, so Raon lowered his gaze in apology.

However...

Hmm?

Have you taken an interest in the Demon Realm?

Wrath's eyes shone as brightly as a freshly polished windowpane.

This could be useful.

Seeing a chance to extract information on the Demon Kings from Wrath, Raon gave a light nod.

So why does that Greed fellow collect money?

What special reason would there be? He grows stronger the more money he accumulates.

...He grows stronger the more money he accumulates?

Raon's eyes flew wide.

That is so. Humans and demons alike pour their desires into money. Fine houses, fine clothes, fine food. The very concept of money is a mirror of intelligent beings' desires.

A blue aura smoldered and coiled in Wrath's pupils.

Greed. That filthy creature sucks in the desires of humans and demons through money and uses them to strengthen his own power.

Wrath scowled, calling him a vile thing.

But even if that one gathered every coin in the world, he would still be weaker than This King! If This King so much as threatened to smash all his hoarded wealth, he would be too terrified to even show his face!

Huh...

There was a hint of bluster in it, but Wrath's superiority itself seemed genuine.

Anyway, enough about that filthy creature. From this moment, This King shall begin an explanation of the Demon Realm's history and of This King's own greatness. From the moment of This King's birth, This King was extraordinary...

It was unnecessary, so Raon let it go in one ear and out the other.

I see.

Th-this King has not finished speaking!

I heard it all.

...This King truly wonders why you were born in the human world! This King shall start again! From the moment of This King's birth...

Raon let Wrath's voice wash past him and popped a slice of apple into his mouth.

"Um, Vice Leader."

Dorian set down his fork and let out a long sigh.

"What is it?"

"This might be a bit much to say, but... my third sister. She won't stay quiet. She's never been on the receiving end of anything in her life, so she'll definitely want revenge..."

"I know."

Raon nodded without the slightest hint of surprise.

"Huh?"

"I've seen more than one or two people like that."

Phalen Sefia had been born as a direct descendant of the Sepia Merchant Guild, spent money like water, and did whatever she pleased—and that was how she had become so reckless. Having tasted, for the first time, the humiliation of dropping to her knees and bowing her head, she would prepare her revenge the moment she woke.

In fact, that's why I let her go.

He had only scratched her pride in order to finish her off for certain. The purpose of coming here was not to make her kneel—it was to devour this entire guild.

Of course, there's one more reason...

Raon sipped his tea and smiled faintly.

"If she brings a strong martial artist and picks a fight head-on, I can let that slide as something cute. But that isn't going to happen."

For a martial ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠artist to have any chance of beating him, they would need to be a Peak-Class Master or a Grandmaster. There were people among those supreme experts who moved for money, but the sum required would be astronomical. Even Phalen, the legitimate daughter of the Sepia Merchant Guild, would drain her funds nearly dry and find herself unable to fight a succession war.

Which meant the path she would choose was obvious.

"There's a high chance she'll hire assassins."

"Y-you knew that, and you still didn't press her harder...?"

"They kept to the proper line, didn't they?"

Neither Phalen nor the martial artists under her orders had ever once emitted killing intent. They had observed the last line, and so he had not inflicted fatal wounds on them either.

"Besides, the protagonist of this affair isn't me—it's you. If I handled it too harshly, given your personality, I thought you'd feel guilty."

"Ah..."

Across both his previous life and this one, Dorian was the gentlest, most tender-hearted person Raon had ever known. He might come to regret it later, so Raon wanted to hear his resolve before anything was done.

"You decide. Can you fight your siblings to the point of shedding blood?"

"......"

Dorian swallowed dryly and looked into Raon's eyes.

He really is...

A remarkable person. He would charge around like a delinquent, then show the face of a sage at times like this. He seemed inconsiderate of others, and yet when it truly mattered, he followed that person's will. He felt like he acted thoughtlessly on whim, but the end result was always success.

Truly, an unfathomable man.

But two things are certain.

He was someone Dorian could trust. And he was someone Dorian would have to follow for the rest of his life.

"Huu..."

Having made up his mind, Dorian let out a deep breath.

"Um..."

"Hmm?"

"J-just don't kill them. A-and don't cut off their arms or legs..."

Raon snickered, watching Dorian scratch his cheek.

"These are people who bullied and ignored you since you were little. Even after you came back, all they thought about was driving you out."

"Even so, they're my siblings."

Dorian nodded, his eyes hardened.

"Alright. Well, there are plenty of ways to make them suffer without killing them."

Raon gave a short laugh and rose from his seat.

"Urgh..."

Dorian's chin trembled, as if several possibilities had just occurred to him.

"Let's go back."

"Y-yes..."

Just as Raon was about to leave the restaurant, the ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠door opened. It was Dialun Sefia, Dorian's second brother, whom they had seen that afternoon.

"Mm..."

He had already heard the news, it seemed—he did not startle at the color of Raon's hair and eyes. He could not, however, keep his expression from hardening like plaster.

"This is the second time I greet you. It is an honor to meet the White Sword Dragon."

He bowed his head with proper courtesy.

"I apologize for the deception last time. I am Raon Zieghart."

Dialun had at least observed outward courtesy before, so Raon returned a proper greeting.

"You've had quite the eventful day since arriving."

Dialun lowered his chin slightly.

"I have a personality that doesn't tolerate provocations that come walking my way."

"That sounds rather frightening. Almost like a threat."

"If you don't strike first, I have no intention of moving either."

Raon smiled, looking into Dialun's sunken eyes.

"Huu..."

Dialun let out a sigh and looked at Dorian, who stood beside Raon.

"To be honest, I didn't think you'd even be able to enter the contest—but you've brought someone rather difficult to handle."

He regarded Dorian with cold eyes.

"You might be the most dangerous of all."

"You saw correctly."

Dorian swallowed dryly and raised his head.

"I won't lose to my brothers either. I'm not alone anymore."

"Ha!"

At that, Dialun laughed coldly.

"I know. Dorian Sepia of the Light Wind Squad."

Dialun clapped Dorian on the shoulder and went into the restaurant. The martial artists and servants following him poured in after. A keen martial light gleamed in every one of their eyes.

Raon committed their presence to memory, then stepped outside.

"I-I didn't say anything weird, did I?"

He had been ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so confident a moment ago, and now he was shrinking, his shoulders trembling. Truly a curious fellow.

"That was the first time you've declared your intentions like that. It was cool."

"Ohh!"

"However..."

Raon smiled and raised a finger.

"Your voice cracked, and you were shaking like a leaf."

"Uh..."

Honestly, it looked a bit pathetic too.

"Gyaaaaah! This is so embarrassing!"

Dorian grabbed his head and screamed.

"It's only the beginning. You'll get better little by little."

Raon grinned and headed for the lodgings.

...And that is how This King was able to become a monarch of the Demon Realm!

...

Were you still talking?

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Phalen Sefia forced her eyes open with difficulty.

"Nnh..."

A familiar ceiling, and the soft give of her own bed. This was her room.

"Why am I here... ah!"

A throbbing headache brought the events of the day flooding back. She had fainted, overwhelmed by the presence of Raon Zieghart when he revealed those crimson eyes.

"Damn it!"

Phalen jerked upright, spitting a curse. What had happened in the training ground swept through her mind like a dream.

"Swin!"

At her call, the door opened, and her neatly uniformed secretary entered.

"You called for me."

"Tell me what happened."

"After you fainted, miss..."

"No—from the beginning!"

"When we arrived at the training ground with Young Master Dorian, Toten Robel..."

The secretary called Swin recounted everything that had taken place in the training ground, leaving nothing out. As she listened, the dream became reality, and every moment of that place rose before her, vivid and raw. It was a situation that brought curses to her lips of their own accord.

"Kkhh..."

Phalen clutched her long hair and ground her teeth.

"Goddamn it!"

Born the legitimate daughter of the Sepia Merchant Guild, she had, for the first time in her life, dropped to her knees before another person and raised the white flag. Humiliation. And not just any humiliation—the kind that would never come again.

I went easy on them...

She had only meant to rough them up a little, since they shared half her blood—but now that it had come to this, killing intent surged up in a flood. More than Dorian, she wanted to beat Raon Zieghart to death.

"The connection to those assassin-group bastards, the Black Snake—it's still there, isn't it?"

Phalen looked at Swin with icy eyes.

"Miss. They have never revealed their identities..."

"Shut up and just answer."

"It is still there."

Swin let out a thin breath and nodded.

"Contact them. Not just my brothers and Dorian—Raon Zieghart too. I'm hitting all of them."

"What? I-if you touch Raon Zieghart..."

"I know. The guild itself could disappear. That's why you just make contact for now, so we can kill him after he leaves this place."

If they touched Raon Zieghart, the guild itself could be put in danger, so they would have to wait until after he was gone to make their move.

"Haa..."

Swin let out a deep sigh and nodded.

"Understood."

"Wait."

As he turned to leave, Phalen raised a hand.

"Bring alcohol too. The strong kind."

"...Yes."

Swin brought a dark brown whiskey and a few side dishes, then left the room.

Phalen sat at the table and knocked back the whiskey.

"Shit..."

Even now, as she drank, Dorian's victory and Raon's crimson eyes rose in her mind. If she did not get drunk, she did not think she would be able to sleep.

"Hm?"

She was knocking back whiskey with no food at all when a small cry came from the window on her right. She turned, and a flying squirrel was clinging to the glass.

"Get lost!"

"Eek!"

Phalen hurled her glass at the window. The glass shattered to pieces, and the flying squirrel fled somewhere.

"Huu..."

Even that did not seem to cool her rage. She tipped the whiskey bottle itself to her lips. She drained every last drop of the full bottle, then collapsed onto the bed as she was.

"...I'll kill him. No matter what it takes."

Staring at a ceiling that seemed to spin, Phalen swore she would have her revenge on Raon Zieghart. Whether from the alcohol or the exhaustion, her eyes fell shut at once, and she sank into the grip of sleep.

...

Huh?

Phalen's entire body shuddered.

I can't move.

Her mind was perfectly clear, but she could not so much as twitch a finger. Her eyelids would not lift either. There was nothing but pitch-black darkness.

Sleep paralysis?

It was her first time being caught in it, but it was similar to what she had heard from other people.

Of all the luck. Just when things are already going to hell.

She cursed inwardly and tried to wiggle her fingertips, hoping it would break soon—but her whole body did not stir an inch.

How long is this going to... hm?

Even in sleep paralysis, her senses seemed to be working, because she felt something touch her forehead. At the same time, her eyelids and eyes began to move.

What is this...

A nameless dread rising in her, Phalen opened her eyes.

Gah!

The instant she did, she nearly fainted all over again.

A young woman with blue irises etched with crimson crosses had pressed her forehead against Phalen's, looking down at her. The energy blooming from those warped pupils was steeped in something profoundly wrong.

Wh-wh-what is this? Who the hell is this woman...

The woman radiating a ghostly aura said nothing at all. She only stared. The crimson light in those eyes, soaked in a bleak and sunken energy, clenched around Phalen's heart as if it would burst.