The Guardian of Balance
Rimer let out a hollow laugh as he watched the Light Wind Squad charge at Raon with their teeth bared.
"People really do change overnight."
He wasn't talking only about how savage they'd become, like a pack of mad dogs.
Every time Raon struck the Light Wind swordsmen, he stimulated their mana circuits, helping them absorb the Four Clouds Pill they still hadn't fully assimilated. Thanks to that, the squad spent the entire day swinging their swords through the utterly absurd experience of their aura growing the more Raon beat them down.
"That's no ordinary feat."
Fighting the Light Wind Squad while stimulating their mana circuits at the same time drained not only aura and stamina, but mental strength as well. That was why Raon's face looked a little more worn than usual.
"He's just too kind, that kid."
To handle that exhausting, tedious work all by himself until midnight—when it came to looking after his comrades, there was no one like Raon.
"Hmph."
Dokoe sidled up beside Rimer and snorted.
"Then why don't you help out a little?"
"You don't see this?"
Rimer pointed at the bruise swelling over his left eyelid and scowled. He pulled an egg from his coat, rubbed it around the eye, and sighed.
"I'd love to help, but my injuries are serious."
"Doesn't look like you took a single real hit. You're just sitting this out because it's a hassle, aren't you?"
Dokoe's eyes narrowed to slits.
"W-what are you talking about! The physical pain is bad enough, but the wound to my heart from being trampled by my own subordinates still stings! No medicine on earth is going to fix that!"
Rimer whipped his head away and sniffled.
"Always with the theatrics."
Dokoe sighed and shook his head.
"Anyway, you're not going to tell the kids?"
"Tell them what?"
"That they don't actually have to win the match."
The first test when promoting from a squad to a corps was typically a match against a martial corps. A corps being stronger than a squad was only natural, however, so winning was never a requirement.
"The point of that match is to see what kind of fight they can put up against a stronger force. Victory isn't a condition."
"You're right. They don't need to win. But I have no intention of telling them that."
Rimer shook his head without a hint of hesitation.
"Don't tell me you were planning to make them aim for nothing but victory so they'd grow? Well, at their current level, they could probably win without much trouble."
"Hmm? That's not it."
He looked out at the Light Wind Squad and smiled, cold and thin.
"I just wanted to watch those brats who stepped on me suffer a little more."
"Your heart's smaller than a sardine's."
"It's actually even smaller than a sardine. That's my pride."
Rimer declared himself a petty man and cackled.
"Ugh. You really are…"
Dokoe groaned and looked at him with thoroughly exasperated eyes.
"But at this rate, it won't be any fun."
Rimer's voice drifted out light as a breeze. He watched Raon and the Light Wind Squad, who only grew more vicious the longer they fought, and a sly smile crept across his face.
"Looks like this Guardian of Balance needs to step in."
A roar that seemed fit to crush the sky itself rolled across the square training ground.
It was the battle cry of the Iron Battle Squad, so absorbed in their drills that their gray training uniforms had soaked through with sweat and turned brown. As they brought their swords down in the Great Black Iron Sword Formation, a pressure so oppressive it sent a chill down the spine poured off every swordsman.
"That's enough."
The blond middle-aged man standing on the platform raised a hand, and the Iron Battle swordsmen lowered their blades with crisp, disciplined precision.
The man who could move the entire Iron Battle Squad with a single gesture was none other than Trevin Zieghart, commander of the Iron Battle Squad.
"Great Black Iron Sword Formation drills end here. From now on, move by teams and run the Lesser Black Iron Sword Formation."
"Yes, sir!"
The Iron Battle swordsmen bowed at once, split into three teams, and spread out across the training ground. The Lesser Black Iron Sword Formation they unfolded carried none of that imposing weight—instead, it held a sharpness so keen it seemed to slice the skin just from being watched.
"Team One. The aura at your center is scattering. Distribute your energy with precision. Team Two, the formation's balance has collapsed. Raise your swords a little higher. Team Three…"
Trevin Zieghart picked out each team's shortcomings with a meticulous eye and told them exactly how to correct them. The Iron Battle swordsmen who took in his instruction brought their blades down with an even denser killing edge.
"Hah…"
First Vice Commander Camang looked at Trevin's back and let out a sigh.
"This training never ends."
"Tell me about it. He could ease up a little."
Second Vice Commander Ores shook his head.
"I respect our commander, I do, but that caution of his I will never understand."
"It is a bit much."
"It's because of the commander's caution that our promotion got delayed in the first place."
They should have become a corps long ago, but Trevin had dragged things out in the name of preparing a perfect promotion, and they'd only barely made it three years prior.
"We should put a stop to this. The kids are going to drop dead."
"That'd be for the best."
The two vice commanders exhaled briefly and approached Trevin.
"Commander."
Camang came up behind Trevin and smiled.
"I think that's enough for today. The match is tomorrow—the men need some rest."
"He's right. It's just the Light Wind Squad. There's no need to go this far."
The moment Ores picked up Camang's words, Trevin's gaze swung around.
"Just the Light Wind Squad?"
Trevin's eyes sank until they were cold enough to freeze.
"Hhk!"
Realizing he'd misspoken, Ores clapped a hand over his mouth.
"Have you forgotten that 'just the Light Wind Squad' won the Six Kings duel tournament? Does a squad that hasn't even existed that long taking a promotion exam look like a joke to you?"
"Th-that's not what I—"
"Light Wind Squad Leader Rimer may not have fully recovered his strength, but he's still the monster they once called Zieghart's Sword of Light. And Raon Zieghart is a genius they call one of the greatest in the history of the Six Kings. They are not people we can afford to take lightly."
Trevin's voice pressed down on the two vice commanders like a weight.
"On top of that, the Light Wind Squad has been training in their grounds for a full week without coming out. Being perfectly prepared to win no matter how they move—that is the standard the Iron Battle Squad must show."
"I-I'm sorry."
"I have nothing to say."
Ores and Camang offered no excuses. They simply admitted they were wrong.
"…That said, letting the men rest isn't a bad point either."
Trevin looked up at the sky. From the position of the moon, midnight had already come and gone.
"All of you, fall in."
He gestured, calling the Iron Battle swordsmen to the front of the platform.
"Training ends here for today."
"Commander! We can still go!"
"The match is tomorrow—just a little more practice and then we'll leave!"
"You said the Light Wind Squad hasn't come out of their training ground for a week."
"We can't lose to them!"
The Iron Battle swordsmen, as if they'd overheard what Trevin had said to the vice commanders, shouted that they wanted to keep training.
"The match is tomorrow, which is exactly why you need to rest your bodies and put yourselves in peak condition. This isn't leisure. This is preparation for combat."
As he spoke, Trevin pointed to the small booklets stacked on the platform.
"These contain intelligence on the Light Wind Squad. Memorize all of it before tomorrow's match."
"Understood!"
The Iron Battle Squad answered without a flicker of hesitation and bowed their heads.
Trevin watched his swordsmen gather up the booklets, his eyes narrowing.
The Light Wind Squad…
Even if they fought right now, beating the Light Wind Squad wouldn't be difficult. But those people had a way of overcoming hard situations. They could not be taken lightly.
Plenty of people have looked down on Raon and the Light Wind Squad and lost. I am not that kind of fool.
Trevin stared at the sky and clenched his fist.
I'll crush them thoroughly and show them the difference between a corps and a squad.
The day of the duel between the Light Wind Squad and the Iron Battle Squad.
Glenn and Adis Sefia stood atop the Red Spire on the eastern side of Bukmang Mountain.
"That's where today's duel will take place?"
Adis pointed at the wrecked urban district visible below the spire.
"It is."
Glenn lowered his gaze and nodded.
"Unexpected. When I heard there would be a duel, I assumed they'd hold one-on-one matches in an arena."
"This battle is an examination to promote a squad to a corps. We need to see their strength as a unit, not as individuals."
"Ah. That does make sense."
Adis caught Glenn's meaning and scratched his cheek.
"I'm just an ignorant merchant, so I had no idea that was how it worked."
"No. I simply hadn't mentioned it."
The voices of the two men who had shared a drinking table carried an easy warmth.
"Then if the Light Wind Squad wins today, they become a corps?"
"Not quite. There are two tests to sit, and they could still become a corps even if they lose today."
"Even if they lose?"
"That's right. A corps being stronger than a squad is only natural. Winning would be the stranger outcome."
Glenn shook his head, noting that a squad defeating a corps and earning promotion almost never happened.
"So the focus is on how they fight against a stronger enemy."
"You're quick. That's exactly the purpose of this battle. Making them fight in the city streets is also to see how they respond."
"Nothing about a Six Kings examination is simple, is it."
Adis let out an admiring breath.
"A merchant guild can be just as frightening, I'd imagine?"
"Even so, we trade in words and money—not blades."
"Those words and that money can be more frightening than a blade, at times."
"There are occasions, yes."
Glenn smiled faintly, and Adis shrugged.
"We've made arrangements so that even the head of the Sepia Merchant Guild can watch today's battle in comfort. You shouldn't have any trouble following the situation."
"I'm grateful for the consideration. Hm?"
Adis had been bowing his head when he pointed a finger at the swordsmen entering the city streets.
"The Light Wind Squad appears to be coming in."
He slipped a hand into his inner coat pocket, drew out a portable telescope, and held it to his eye.
"So they are."
Glenn nodded and turned his gaze to the Light Wind Squad.
"He's biting his lip. Looks a little nervous."
"That face is overflowing with confidence."
"I don't know if he'll be able to fight properly like that."
"He's the type who can bring out his full ability no matter the situation."
"His clothes are wrinkled. He's always a mess."
"He combed his hair neatly. That definitely looks better."
The two men rattled on with whatever they wanted to say, apparently unaware that their conversation wasn't connecting at all.
Roen watched Glenn and Adis talk past each other and smiled, soft and fond.
Both of them are a delight.
The reason their words didn't line up was simple. Glenn was looking only at Raon, and Adis Sefia was looking only at Dorian, so nothing they said actually met in the middle.
Now I see why they got along so fast.
They'd shared a single drinking table, and already the two of them carried this warm atmosphere. It was because they were alike—neither of them honest about their feelings.
And now the young master is even bringing the family head a friend.
Roen dipped his head slightly toward Raon, who was walking toward the center of the city streets.
Thank you as always for giving me such entertaining things to watch… hm?
His eyes narrowed as he took in the Light Wind swordsmen following behind Raon.
Why are they all baring their teeth like that?
Raon walked inward, surveying a city district that looked like ruins, buildings collapsed here and there.
Built as a training ground from the start.
The buildings and walls of the district were training facilities designed to be moved. They'd been installed so the layout could be changed, to keep anyone from growing too familiar with the geography during drills.
Then I'll just memorize it now.
He smiled faintly and packed every scrap of the district's current layout into his head. Mapping the terrain as he moved, he arrived at the center of the city before he knew it—and saw swordsmen approaching from the opposite side.
So that's the Iron Battle Squad.
The Iron Battle Squad radiated a sharpness so keen that each swordsman looked like a blade in human form. They hadn't piled up so many achievements after their promotion to a corps for nothing.
And among them…
Raon's eyes found the blond middle-aged man walking at the Iron Battle Squad's center. Even among swordsmen pouring out fierce presence, the oppressive weight he wore stood alone. That had to be Trevin Zieghart, commander of the Iron Battle Squad.
"They're all so frail."
Wrath clicked his tongue as if it were nothing worth mentioning.
"Your subordinates might cower, but against such weaklings… huh?"
He turned to look over the Light Wind Squad, and his mouth fell open.
"They're not scared?"
Because they're pissed off.
Raon smiled and glanced back. Every last member of the Light Wind Squad had fire in their eyes, burning with a grudge against the Iron Battle Squad that had been the reason for their hellish training. They looked ready to charge the moment he gave the order.
"Hoooooh!"
"So those are the bastards we went through all that misery for."
"The enemy of my sleep…"
Burren, Marta, and Runaan in particular rolled out a crushing wave of presence as they watched the Iron Battle Squad approach.
"Hah!"
Wrath let out a stunned breath as he faced the Light Wind Squad's madness.
"Why are they angry at the other side when you're the one who tormented them? This King cannot comprehend it!"
That's how you handle people.
"Tell This King as well. This King wishes to learn!"
You'll have to pay tuition.
"Tuition? You mad human!"
He exploded, demanding to know what kind of nonsense that was.
"You steal This King's stats every single day, and you still want more?!"
That's tribute.
"T-tribute…"
Wrath's mouth hung open in sheer disbelief.
Raon shoved the clinging Wrath aside and looked at the Iron Battle Squad, which had come right up in front of them.
"It's been a while."
Trevin Zieghart, commander of the Iron Battle Squad, jerked his chin at Rimer.
"Well, well. Trevin. You've gotten a lot more arrogant."
Rimer looked at him and snorted a laugh.
"A great deal of time has passed. You've gone down, and I've gone up."
He looked down on Rimer and the Light Wind Squad with cold eyes.
"I don't remember you having this kind of personality… eh, not that it matters."
Rimer shrugged, as if he couldn't care less.
From behind Rimer's shoulder, Raon watched Trevin, his eyes narrowing.
He's not wrong.
According to Judiel's intelligence, Trevin was a calm, cautious man. Right now, he seemed to be provoking them on purpose.
He just picked the wrong targets.
There was no one here a provocation would land on. Rimer was as insubstantial as a scrap of fluttering paper, so he wouldn't take the bait, and the Light Wind Squad was already out of their minds—which made the whole thing meaningless.
A low hum of power stirred as Raon opened the Sense of Frost Flowers and swept over the Iron Battle Squad's energy as a whole.
They've gotten stronger since I received Judiel's information, but not by a wide margin.
If Rimer could hold off the two vice commanders while Raon dealt with Trevin Zieghart, winning wouldn't be difficult. The Iron Battle Squad as it stood now simply could not stop a Light Wind Squad that had turned into mad dogs.
The madness and hot breath rolling off the Light Wind Squad at his back felt almost reassuringly solid.
While the Light Wind Squad and the Iron Battle Squad stared each other down, a middle-aged man in a brown official's uniform approached.
"I am Harrison, the referee for today's duel."
He bowed in turn to Rimer and Trevin.
"The format is simple. Seize the flag in the opposing formation, or render every enemy combat-incapable, and you win."
Harrison smiled as if it weren't difficult at all.
"There is, however, one unusual feature of today's duel. We will be announcing who defeated whom."
"Why announce that?"
Trevin frowned at Harrison.
"It was an order from above. I don't know the details myself."
Harrison bowed his head as if in apology.
"And you'll be the one determining combat-incapable status?"
"Yes. I and the assistant referees stationed around the area will make that judgment. Surrender will also be announced as combat-incapable."
"Understood."
Trevin nodded, as if all his questions had been answered.
"Any questions from the Light Wind Squad?"
"Not really."
Rimer shrugged, looking thoroughly uninterested.
"Then the duel will begin in thirty minutes. Light Wind Squad, please move to the western formation. Iron Battle Squad, to the eastern formation."
At Harrison's instruction, the Light Wind Squad and the Iron Battle Squad brushed past each other and began moving in opposite directions.
Raon smiled and nodded.
West? Perfect.
They'd entered from the east, so moving west meant he would know every inch of this district's geography. The Iron Battle Squad would be in the same position—but he was confident he could use this terrain better than they could.
I'm looking forward to the match with the Iron Battle commander.
Raon headed for his formation thinking this battle would be an entertaining one—but that expectation shattered into pieces not long after the fighting began.
Light Wind Squad Leader Rimer — Combat Incapable!