Whatever You Desire

Raon met Adis Sefia's dry, settled gaze and thinned his lips. So that's what this was about. The situation was the exact opposite of what Wrath had predicted. Adis hadn't summoned him to the office to take his anger out on him—he'd called him here to put even greater power at his back.

That said, it didn't look like the help would come unconditionally.

"When you say you're investing in me, what exactly does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. It means I am prepared to spend money wherever the man named Raon Zieghart wishes it spent."

Adis answered without the slightest hesitation, as if he'd prepared the words in advance.

"Why?!" Wrath exploded. "There are plenty of other places to invest! That brat is a bottomless money pit!"

Shut up.

Raon swatted Wrath away as if shooing a fly and looked back at Adis.

"May I ask the reason?"

"Wanting to invest in the man who will become the greatest on the continent is only natural for a merchant."

"I don't think that's the only reason."

If raw martial power had been all that mattered, Adis would have welcomed him from the start. He hadn't been nearly that warm. There was clearly something else.

"You really aren't your age. That's right. There is another reason."

"Which is…?"

"Because you are someone who can change people."

"Change?"

"That's right. The continent is full of the strong, full of geniuses, and even fuller of the rich. Wherever you go, you'll find no shortage of impressive people whose names everyone knows. But among them, those who can change others as naturally as breathing are rare."

Adis tapped the table with a finger, the gesture as habitual as breathing, and went on.

"Just by following you around, Dorian became a man fit to be a successor. And you raised the Falling Blossom Blade back to his feet—a nickname dripping with mockery, meaning a fallen sword. That isn't something just anyone can do."

"When I helped Dorian grow, there was intent behind it. The Falling Blossom Blade was something I stumbled into by chance."

"That thing you 'stumbled into by chance' is something no one else has managed in decades."

Mark Goetten had risen to Master at a young age and been regarded as a star who would bring glory to the Warner Kingdom. In the end, he had been consumed by himself, earned the infamy of the Falling Blossom Blade, and become a mercenary.

Even with his skill stagnant, a Master was still a Master, and plenty of people had tried to claim him. Not one of them had opened his heart.

But this man was different.

Raon hadn't been thinking about acquiring the Falling Blossom Blade or enlightening him. He had simply swung his sword with honest intent—and that had struck the soul of a defeated man who for a long time hadn't even been able to look at the wall in front of him.

It was the kind of thing you could understand and still be unable to do. Only someone who possessed a value beyond martial power and talent could pull it off.

"For a heart to move, there must be action. You are someone who can do that not only for yourself, but for others. That is why I said I wanted to invest."

"I see…"

Raon gave a heavy nod. A frightening man. He wasn't offering to invest because Raon had outstanding martial power, or because he'd helped Dorian grow. The head of the Sepia Merchant Guild had taken the measure of what kind of person Raon Zieghart was—and that was why he had stepped forward.

"There is one thing I wish to ask."

Adis's fingers, which had been tapping the table, went still.

"Please."

"Do you intend to become the Family Head of Zieghart?"

The terse question stopped the words in Raon's throat. Family Head…

He had thought about it before. He had been asked more than once, and every time he had said he had no such intention. Because it was never my goal.

The most important purpose he had set for this second life was to expose Derus Robert's true identity and wipe him from the world. Even if death came for him again, that much had to be done.

It would be convenient, becoming Family Head. If he took the seat and used it to check Derus, he might reach that goal a little more easily. But…

An enormous number of lives would vanish. If it became a war of house against house rather than one man against another, countless people who had done nothing wrong would fall. He could not become the same kind of human as Derus Robert for the sake of taking revenge on Derus Robert. However hard and lonely the fight became, he did not want to watch unnecessary sacrifices.

The second goal wouldn't mean much either. Raising Sylvia to the direct line would be possible if he became Family Head—but restoring Sylvia to the direct line would actually be faster than accumulating the merit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠required to take the seat. So he didn't need it for that goal either.

Becoming Family Head isn't my goal. And yet…

Unlike before, he had grown attached to House Zieghart. He wanted to stand with its people a little longer. He wanted to build the house larger and higher. I don't even understand my own heart.

He wanted to become Family Head, and he also didn't. That was why he couldn't give Adis a proper ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answer.

The offer of help will probably vanish. Adis was a merchant. If he was extending a hand, he clearly meant to extract a price. That price, though, would come after Raon became Family Head—so once he heard this answer, he would withdraw the investment.

Even so, telling the truth sits better. Adis was a comrade's father, and the master of a great merchant guild whose depths were hard to read. There was no point in a clumsy lie.

"Honestly…"

Wrath looked at Raon and furrowed his brow.

"This King cannot make heads or tails of your personality. Yesterday you were a complete thug, and today you seem like a sage. A lunatic, through and through."

I don't understand myself either.

Raon let out a long breath, lifted his gaze, and looked at Adis.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Yes. Setting aside whether I even could become Family Head, I still don't know what I would do if I did. So right now, I can't answer the question of whether I will."

"Mm…"

Adis let out a low sound and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't understand. You must have known that 'I don't know' was a poor answer. Why give it anyway? Wouldn't it have been better to lie and say you would become Family Head?"

"You're right. That would have been better."

Raon nodded with a faint smile.

"But when I was about to lie, I remembered something the Guildmaster said."

"Which was…?"

"You may bring stolen goods to a customer, but you must never put a defective product on the shelf."

The moment he quoted the words Adis had spoken to Jeser at the training grounds, Adis's mouth fell open.

"I'm not a merchant, but standing here, I'm no different from merchandise on display. I didn't want to offer the Guildmaster a deal built on a product riddled with lies."

"Kh…"

Adis's hand, which had been tapping the table, went still. His shoulders trembled, and a long smile spread across his face.

"Kahahahahaha!"

He threw his head back and laughed—a laugh so unrestrained it seemed to strip away all the coldness and hardness he usually wore.

"Now I understand. Yes. That was it."

He looked at Raon with eyes bright with genuine pleasure. Unlike before, they were warm, full of feeling—eyes that reminded Raon of Dorian.

"I believe I told you at the start that I trust my eye for people."

"You did."

"It seems my eye has grown old."

"Pardon?"

"I never imagined the man named Raon Zieghart would be this much."

Adis smiled faintly. This, perhaps, was what he really looked like.

"What I said before—that as a comrade's father, you should drop the formalities. Does that still stand?"

"It does."

"Then I'll take you up on it."

A deeper smile touched his mouth as he leaned back in his chair.

Adis held out his hand, his expression clear and unburdened.

"I'll follow you wherever that path leads. Tell me whatever you desire."

"Huuuh!"

Wrath, who had been quiet until now, leapt as if he'd been stung.

"He never should have said that! That fool!"

Move.

Raon flicked the trembling cotton ball away with the back of his hand and leaned forward.

"What I want right now is the expansion of Zieghart."

"Expansion?"

"Yes. Zieghart is stuck at the northern edge of the continent, which makes it the most closed-off of the Six Kings."

"True enough. Until the Northern Annihilation King stepped forward, and until people heard the results of the duel in the Owen Kingdom, even among the Six Kings it was considered the one at the very fringe."

Adis nodded as if he understood perfectly.

"That's all because of its location. So I want to expand the infrastructure and the road network there."

This was something he had been thinking about for a long time. To grow Zieghart, you needed people, roads, and money—all of them. The power of a great merchant guild was essential.

"I see what you mean."

As expected of a guildmaster, Adis grasped the intent at once.

"It will consume a great deal of money, time, and manpower."

"But the returns will be greater still. The Family Head is a man who rewards and punishes with absolute certainty. Plenty of people want to take Zieghart's hand right now, but nothing has been settled."

"Then we should move first."

He nodded, already saying he would start drawing up a plan.

"Now, next is the Light Wind Squad…"

"Next?"

At the word next, Adis's eyes doubled in size.

"You did tell me to say whatever I desired."

"I-I did, but I didn't think there would be more…"

Only now sensing that something was wrong, Adis's lips trembled.

"There's still plenty left."

Raon lifted his chin slightly, an amused smile playing on his mouth.

"This is only the beginning. Listen carefully."

Before long, Adis would come to regret his decision.

House Zieghart Audience Hall.

Into that place—as lofty as the peak of Bukmang Mountain, where a chill wind coiled and swept—a gaggle of small children came tumbling in. They stared around the Audience Hall with vacant eyes, fidgeting with their fingers.

"Hoo."

Glenn Zieghart turned a piercing gaze on Pedrick, the Saint of Rags, who stood awkwardly at the head of the children.

"What are all these children?"

"I told Rimer. Did you not hear?"

"I heard. No one said there would be this many."

"I told him the number as well."

Pedrick pointed at Rimer, who was grinning at the children.

"Rimer."

"Huk!"

At Glenn's sharp voice, Rimer's shoulders jerked.

"I-I forgot."

Rimer scratched the back of his head with a sheepish laugh.

"……"

Glenn glared at Rimer as if he meant to kill him, and a cold so deep it seemed to freeze the bone itself filled the Audience Hall.

"Ugh…"

"Auh…"

"W-why did it suddenly get so cold?"

The children trembled from head to toe, even in their thick fur clothes.

"Glenn. There are children here."

"Mm…"

At Pedrick's call, Glenn frowned and pulled every shred of his presence back in. If anything, he seemed to generate heat instead; a warmth like a mild breeze bloomed through the hall.

"Come on, isn't that a bit much? Letting your presence leak out when there are children here?"

Rimer had already sidled up next to Roen and was badmouthing Glenn.

"Hah hah hah."

Roen stood with his hands folded behind his back, a kindly smile on his face, as if he found the children adorable.

"A man can get a number wrong. And he tries to kill someone over it—his personality is seriously messed up."

"Hah hah hah."

Whether Roen answered or not, Rimer kept right on talking behind Glenn's back.

"Nngh…"

Glenn let out a pained sound and turned his eyes to the children.

"These children were brainwashed?"

"They were."

Pedrick nodded, looking at the children whose pupils trembled as if with fright.

Glenn studied them one by one. They were still of an age that needed an adult's protection, yet the skin beneath their eyes was darkly burned. It was not a child's brightness he saw. It was the look of adults worn down by life.

"Why did you bring them here?"

"If we use the cold of this place, we can erase the brainwashing that remains, and the ugly memories with it."

"Mm."

Glenn spread his perception and examined not only the children's exteriors but what lay inside them. Whether from the brainwashing or not, the energy in their bodies wavered weakly, and the damage to their mana circuits was severe.

Looking at them, he was reminded of Raon as a child, carrying the curse of bitter frost. With that memory in mind, he could not refuse.

"Can they be healed?"

"These children, I can treat."

Pedrick gave an ambiguous answer and an awkward smile.

"Then…"

"You're not seriously thinking of sending children who came all the way to this freezing place back, are you?"

Just as Glenn was about to nod to Pedrick, Rimer's voice cut in.

"Raon's been doing such a good job that money's been pouring in lately. It's not like we don't have bread to feed them."

"Hah hah hah."

"If you're a human being, this isn't something you can refuse. Right?"

"Hah hah hah."

"Stop with the 'hah hah hah' and agree with me! If you keep this up, I'm the only one who's going to die!"

Rimer shouted, but Roen only went on smiling that kindly smile.

"I'll take them."

Glenn nodded to Pedrick.

"Send the children to the mansion near the Annex."

The warmest place in this house was the Annex, where Sylvia lived. To treat these children, keeping them close to it seemed best.

"You have my thanks. I really did choose my friends well."

Pedrick bowed with a smile, then opened the doors of the Audience Hall.

"Come along, then."

At his gesture, the children filed out one after another.

"Pedrick."

Glenn called after him just as he was about to leave last.

"Did you tell Raon before to try smiling in front of me?"

"Ah, I did. Well? Was it good?"

Pedrick turned back, grinning.

"……"

Glenn gave no answer. He pressed his lips together. The corners of his mouth trembled like a leaf caught in the wind.

"Kahahaha! I knew it."

Pedrick laughed with open satisfaction, said he'd be back in the evening for a drink, and left the Audience Hall.

"Roen. Prepare a generous spread of drinking snacks. The kind that beggar likes."

"Understood."

Roen nodded with a faint smile.

"And…"

"Aaaagh!"

At Glenn's gesture, Rimer—who had been about to follow Pedrick out—was lifted clean off the floor.

With a heavy slam, Roen did not miss the opening. He shut the doors of the Audience Hall.

"R-Roen, sir?"

"Hah hah hah."

"D-don't laugh—why did you close the door?!"

"I told him to."

At the icy voice, Rimer turned. Glenn, who had been buried in the throne, rose to his feet and flicked his fingers.

Crimson lightning spiderwebbed through the empty air, filling the ceiling of the Audience Hall. Thunder rolled.

Rimer stared at the red bolts pouring down, his jaw trembling.

"A-again? Gyaaaaaah!"

Roen's laughter rippled through the air along with the falling thunderbolts.

"Hah hah hah."

Even after obtaining everything he had come for, Raon did not leave the Sepia Merchant Guild for two weeks.

Standing at the summit of a rocky mountain, he gazed at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a night sky packed with stars, then lowered his eyes.

"Graaaaah!"

Mark Goetten roared as he clawed his way up the cliff face. The pace was too slow to believe he was a Master, but step by step he moved toward the summit.

"Ehehhehhk…"

Beside him, Dorian flailed with his tongue hanging out like a dog. His eyes had gone unfocused, but the boy had always been strong, and his speed itself wasn't bad.

Both of them have gotten considerably better.

Their mana circuits had been blocked entirely, so they had to climb the cliff on physical strength alone. After two weeks, their bodies had grown; both of them were scaling the mountain faster and more cleanly than before.

They were on their seventh climb of the cliff today alone, and they were far quicker than when they had first started.

"No talent, and clumsy besides—but they're advancing one step at a time, that's certain."

Wrath lifted the corner of his mouth slightly, as if to say it wasn't bad.

"This sort of thing isn't so terrible either."

Yeah. They're getting better little by little.

Dorian was growing, but the one who had truly changed was Mark Goetten. He wasn't climbing a set number of times. He spent the entire day on this cliff, recovering a ruined body.

"Shall I give them a little help, then?"

Raon smiled faintly and gave the boulder at the summit a light rub.

"You. Don't tell me…"

That 'don't tell me' is exactly right.

Grinning, he brought his fist down on the rock.

Whether it was the King of Destruction ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠title activating or not, the boulder split far more than expected, and chunks of stone came pouring down toward Dorian and Mark Goetten's heads.

"Huk!"

"Uwaaaaaagh!"

Mark Goetten and Dorian screamed and ducked. The two of them scrambled this way and that, reading the rocks' movement, too busy dodging to do anything else. The will to survive overflowed in their eyes.

"Not bad, the way they dodge."

Raon dropped stones wherever Mark Goetten and Dorian tried to flee, forcing them to keep thinking as they moved. This is actually fun. He ought to do this with the Light Wind Squad when he got back.

Dropping rocks during a cliff climb trained vision, prediction, and agility all at once. It was the finest training there was.

"The finest training, my frozen ass! He's just loading them onto a carriage bound for the afterlife!"

Thanks to Raon's relentless interference, Dorian and Mark Goetten only reached the summit of the rocky mountain after the moon had climbed to the center of the sky.

"Hiiik, hiiiik!"

"Hooook!"

Dorian lay spread-eagled, drool running from his mouth. Mark Goetten was on his knees, gasping for breath.

"You've done well."

Raon smiled as he looked at Mark Goetten, who even in exhaustion had not collapsed. He's really changed.

If the rumors about the Falling Blossom Blade Mark Goetten had been true, he would have quit this training in a single day. He had never been a man of particularly strong patience, and mercenary life would only have worn his temper down further.

But for two weeks, Mark Goetten had not missed a single day. From morning until night, he had climbed this rocky mountain.

He had given it everything he had, and his body had changed so much it seemed like a different person's. The spare flesh from drink and snacks was gone. Hard muscle had risen in its place. Anyone looking at him now would have called him a martial artist.

"It's a change This King can feel will in."

It feels like he's seized the last rope thrown to him.

Mark Goetten was pouring every ounce of his strength into grabbing hold of the new chance that had come his way. The guildmaster Adis had said as much, and after watching him for two weeks, Raon could see it himself. When Mark Goetten had said he wanted to follow, he had meant it.

There's just one thing that bothers me.

Raon walked up to Mark Goetten, who was still on his knees.

"Mark Goetten."

"Yes!"

Even while gasping for breath, Mark Goetten answered with a voice loud enough to shake the mountain.

"You said you would follow me. Has that changed?"

"It has not!"

"Even if I cannot raise your realm?"

The reason Mark Goetten's realm had stalled was not simply a matter of martial study and aura. It was likely a problem of the mind. Training him the way Raon trained the Light Wind Squad might let him rise—but there was no guarantee. This, at least, Raon needed to hear from him directly, with certainty.

"……"

For the first time, Mark Goetten did not answer at once. He lowered his wavering eyes and closed them.

When he opened them again a moment later, his pupils had settled as deep and still as they did during training.

"It doesn't matter."

"Truly?"

"Just being able to dream again is enough. Of course I have expectations—that much is true. But even if I hit the wall again, I don't think I would despair the way I did before."

The wall of his realm. The first time he had seen it, it had looked easy. Five years later it had irritated him. Ten years later it had filled him with despair. After that, he had been too afraid to face it even once.

He had steeled his heart through a month of waiting for Raon, and tempered his body through two weeks of climbing this mountain. Now, he thought, he would not be afraid to look at that wall again.

Raon nodded as he met Mark Goetten's earnest eyes. He's definitely changed. The mercenary Mark Goetten, who had despaired of his own skill, seemed to have become the knight Mark Goetten, who had found the spark of a small hope.

"Dorian."

"Huh? Yes!"

Dorian pushed himself up, still panting.

"How did he look to you?"

The person who had been closest to Mark Goetten for two weeks was Dorian, so his opinion mattered too.

"Mm…"

Dorian studied Mark Goetten and smiled faintly.

"He's a good man. He taught me tricks, and more than anything, he works incredibly hard. I think it'd be good if he came with us."

He added that from below, you could see he was climbing with everything he had.

"Is that so."

Raon nodded. Just as Dorian had seen from below, from above Mark Goetten had always been sincere. I'll take him with us.

"And what do you plan to do if his resolve lasts all of three days?"

Wrath cut in the moment Raon finished making up his mind.

Then I'll make him resolve himself every three days.

"Huh?"

I just have to wake his spirit every three days.

"How?"

With my fists. Or a sword, if I have to. They do say that when someone won't listen, it's because they haven't been beaten enough.

"What lunatic said a thing like that?!"

I did.

"Urk…"

Leaving Wrath with his mouth hanging open, Raon held out his hand to Mark Goetten.

"Come with us."

"Ah…"

Mark Goetten stared blankly at Raon's hand, then tried to wipe his own filthy one on his trousers.

"It's because they're that kind of hands that they're worth taking."

"Th-thank you."

Raon took Mark Goetten's hand, still caked with dirt and dust. Mark Goetten bit his lip and bowed his head.

"That's great! Mister, you're Light Wind now too…"

"Dorian."

Raon stopped Dorian as he started toward Mark Goetten.

"If you had the leisure to watch someone else from below, that means this training was too light, doesn't it?"

"Huh? Ah, no, absolutely not! Not at all! Vice Leader told me to keep an eye on him, so…"

"I heard you clearly. I'll take that into account for the next session."

"Ah, he's a demon. That man is a real demon!"

Raon snorted a laugh as he watched Dorian drop to the ground and pound the dirt. It's time to go back.

He had gotten everything there was to get here. It was time to return to the house. He was worried whether Rimer had caused any incidents, and whether the other squad members were training properly.

"Let's head back…"

As Raon gestured to Mark Goetten and Dorian, a message rose before his eyes.