Still Looking at Your Back
The Urban Combat Training Ground lay silent in the wake of a storm called human fury. From the cracked earth, stamped with hundreds of footprints, Rimer pushed himself upright.
"Urgh…"
His shoulders shuddered as a ragged groan tore out of him.
"I-I really almost died."
He wasn't joking. If he hadn't poured every last scrap of aura he'd been saving for training into defense, he'd already be sailing the ferry to the afterlife.
The Family Head himself wouldn't have hurt this much.
So this was human malice.
The fists of the Light Wind Squad and the Iron Battle Squad had hurt, but the worst of it had been the gamblers' kicks. Their rage at barely recovering their principal from a sevenfold jackpot had punched straight through his aura and driven itself into bone and flesh, a vicious, lingering agony.
"Aigoo!"
Rimer let out a long sigh and shook his head.
"Hurts like hell, and I'm broke. Looks like I'll be living off Nadin Bread for a while."
"That's what you get for pulling a stunt like that."
Just as he was trying to stand, using his sword as a cane, a low voice came from his right. He lifted his head. Raon was approaching, a chilling aura rolling off him.
"Hiek!"
Rimer recoiled in horror.
"Y-you're still here?"
Raon didn't answer. His gaze sank until it was enough to send a shiver down the spine.
"Don't tell me you're going to stomp on me again? Th-that's not it, right?"
"I've used up all my aura! If I take another hit, I'm genuinely bound for the Yellow Springs! I'll keel over and drop straight into the afterlife!"
No matter what Rimer said, Raon didn't stop walking. He came right up to him and looked down with eyes tinged red. The moment Rimer met those eyes, his stomach lurched and a hiccup burst out of him.
"Hic! R-Raon. I'm sorry. But I wasn't actually trying to cause an accident…"
His jaw trembled with the terror of not knowing what was coming—and then Raon, instead of throwing a punch, plopped down right beside him.
"Huh?"
"Hit you? Who would I even be hitting? Anyone listening would think I was some kind of thug."
Raon gave a short laugh and reached into his subspace pouch. He pulled out the round cookies Dorian liked to eat, some jerky, and two bottles of whiskey, and set them on the ground.
"Wh-what is this?"
Rimer dropped the guard he'd been holding over his vital points, his lips trembling.
"How about a drink?"
Raon opened a whiskey bottle and held it out to him.
"Huh? Uh…"
Rimer took the whiskey with the awkward, tangled-limbed motions of an octopus whose legs had gotten knotted. Raon knocked it back as casually as if it were water. Not wanting to get hit any more, Rimer followed suit.
This is actually good…
It seemed fairly high-end—there was a hint of vanilla in the whiskey. He even liked the way the alcohol struck the back of his throat.
"Not bad."
A little warmth already spreading through him, Rimer took another sip and chewed on the cookies laid out in front of him.
"The snacks are cheap compared to the whiskey, but that's kind of the charm, isn't it?"
"Squad Leader."
Just as Rimer was taking another swallow and starting to feel pleasantly warm, Raon spoke.
"Were you trying to hand the Division Commander position over to me?"
At that quiet voice, Rimer's hand, reaching for the jerky, froze. Raon watched his flickering eyes and smiled faintly.
So he really was trying to pass the position to me.
Today, Rimer had been different from usual. It was only natural for Glenn to attend an important exam that would turn a squad into a division—but Rimer had pulled a scheme so obvious it might as well have been written on his forehead. Because of that, public opinion itself had started saying that when they were promoted to the Light Wind Division, it shouldn't be Rimer at the head—it should be Raon Zieghart.
Only after hearing that had Raon understood what that foolish elf had been aiming for. Rimer had tanked his own reputation to the absolute bottom and raised the name of Raon to the absolute peak, all so that handing over the Division Commander's seat would feel like the only natural thing to do.
"That pointy-eared fool went and did something pointless."
Wrath snorted, apparently having grasped the situation as well.
"He's overflowing with affection, and a fool besides. However…"
What?
"Can This King not pull on those ears just once, to see if they truly come off?"
Please just go away.
Raon swatted Wrath away with the back of his hand as the demon king peered this way and that at Rimer's long ears.
"Why did you do it?"
Raon asked the question he'd most wanted to ask, chewing on a piece of jerky.
"Haa…"
Rimer didn't answer. He just let out a short sigh.
"It was just getting good, and now you've sobered me up. Why are you so damn sharp?"
He gave a wry laugh and knocked back more whiskey.
"Raon. You're growing faster than I expected. No—faster than anyone expected."
"It's not that much."
"It is that much. The you of right now could take the Division Commander seat and more than hold your own."
Rimer smiled, as if to say Raon had both the qualifications and the ability.
"I just figured it was time to stop looking down at you from above, and start supporting you from below."
Raon listened to those quietly spoken words and poured the whiskey down his throat. Because he'd swallowed it all at once, his esophagus and stomach burned as if they'd been scalded. Carrying that heat, he opened his mouth.
"If I become Division Commander, I'll get summoned by the Family Head all the time. I don't particularly want that. I'll just teach the kids from the back. You keep handling the annoying parts and the scoldings, Squad Leader."
"You little—! I'm struggling too! That old man throws lightning at me every time he sees me! At this point I've got more thunder qi in my dantian than actual aura!"
Rimer squawked that his dantian was going to tear apart.
"Anyway, I can't do it anymore! You'll surpass me before long, and the kids are shooting up like bean sprouts, so while we're converting to the Light Wind Division, you take the commander seat and—"
"Squad Leader. No—Master."
Raon set the bottle down and cut him off.
"I don't believe a master is just someone who teaches martial arts."
In his previous life, the one who'd taught him the art of killing hadn't been a master—he'd been a handler. Because all he'd ever learned was how to kill people, the relationship with Rimer—the one who'd shown him what a real master was—was precious. It mattered.
"The Light Wind Squad and I still want to keep moving forward looking at your back."
Becoming Division Commander wasn't that important. He just wanted the Light Wind Squad as it was now—and his master-disciple bond with Rimer—to last a little longer.
"I even brought this drink because I wanted my first one to be with my master."
"Raon. You…"
Raon drained what was left in the bottle in one go and stood.
"I look forward to receiving much more of your guidance."
He bowed his head, then left the training ground just like that.
"Haa…"
Rimer let out a deep breath and lowered his head. His shoulders trembled faintly.
"Damn. I really lucked out with this disciple."
He downed the rest of the whiskey in one swallow, then pulled the corners of his mouth up.
"Now I can't just sit still, can I?"
"Tsk. What a waste."
Wrath smacked his lips at length, as if something had been left unfinished.
What are you regretting?
Raon tilted his head at him.
"This King should have checked whether that pointy-eared one's ears are truly detachable…"
Raon shook his head and started toward the Main House—only for the Light Wind Squad, who had been waiting at the entrance to the training ground, to come running.
"Vice Leader!"
Dorian, who had lasted until the very end on the battlefield without being eliminated, waved energetically.
"So you're finally here."
"It's all over, so why did you tell us to wait!"
Burren wore a calm smile. Marta scowled. Runaan was nodding off, her head bobbing.
"Hiek…"
Crain stared at the ground, his shoulders trembling like a pheasant that had met its natural predator.
Raon stood before the Light Wind Squad and offered a gentle smile.
"You all did well today. There was a major problem thanks to a certain someone, but you carried out the plan."
"We survived that hell, of course we did!"
"We won because everyone became one."
Marta snorted. Burren raised a tightly clenched fist.
"After making it through the Vice Leader's training, this much was light work."
"Back then there were more than a few times we really almost died."
"If we pass one more exam, we become a division too, right?"
"I'm looking forward to it. Light Wind Division!"
The Light Wind Squad broke into excited laughter, apparently eager to be called the Light Wind Division from now on.
"Today."
At Raon's cool voice, their laughter died.
"While everyone else was doing their part, there was someone who made a serious mistake."
The instant the words left his mouth, every gaze turned to Crain.
"Urgh…"
Crain raised a trembling hand.
"I-I didn't get eliminated because I wanted to…"
"Then?"
"Dorian was busy commanding and couldn't watch his back, so I covered for him and got taken out instead!"
He bit his lip, insisting that Dorian's failure to watch behind him was partly to blame.
"M-me? It wasn't me! I was moving with proper defenses!"
Dorian flailed his hands so fast they nearly vanished, startled out of his wits.
"I really got hit protecting you!"
"Stop lying!"
"I'm telling the truth! You're the commander, so of course I have to protect you!"
"I have eyes in the back of my head—I could've dodged that just fine!"
The two of them shouted over each other, insisting they were right.
Raon clapped his hands. Crain and Dorian shut their mouths at once.
"Whoever was at fault, the fact that Crain went down first doesn't change."
"Urgh…"
"Heh."
Crain's jaw trembled. Dorian wore the face of a victor.
"It would be fair to punish Crain, but something Burren said a moment ago just came to mind."
"Huh? Me?"
"Yes. That the Light Wind Squad won because we became one."
The corners of Raon's mouth floated upward, and unease seeped into every pair of eyes in the squad.
"In other words, one comrade's mistake is everyone's mistake. Extra training for all of you today."
"Ah…"
"Th-this crazy bastard again!"
Burren and Marta both dropped their jaws at the same time.
"W-we won, and he's still going to make us do group training?"
"That guy has actually lost his mind!"
"The only two words stuck in his brain are clearly extra training!"
The swordsmen of the Light Wind Squad trembled, their eyes wide.
"Well, to be honest, Crain wasn't the only problem. First, Marta didn't think about coordinating with her comrades when she charged. Burren shouldn't have just played cushion in the middle—he needed to push more aggressively. Runaan was too focused on defense. If she'd moved a little faster, we could have taken Camang down more easily. And Dorian…"
Raon recited every mistake the Light Wind Squad had made as if he hadn't been fighting Trevin at all, but watching from the sidelines.
"H-how did he even see all that?"
"Does he have four eyes instead of two?"
"He's a ghost. A person can't be like that…"
"D-does this mean we really have to train?"
"The exam just ended… khhk!"
"If a demon saw that guy, it'd come running to be his friend!"
The Light Wind Squad ground their teeth, thoroughly fed up.
"This King is sorry. It is not a friend they have—it is a collar around their necks…"
Wrath sniffled, claiming they were in the same boat.
"K-kill him! If we don't kill that guy, we're the ones who'll die!"
"Marta's right this time! Let's go!"
"He's exhausted right now—this is our last chance!"
"Uwaaaaaaah!"
The Light Wind Squad screamed and charged. Raon watched them come at him with more fighting spirit than they'd shown against the Iron Battle Squad, and a delighted smile spread across his face.
"It's no fun without a little rebellion."
Glenn narrowed his eyes at Rimer, who had suddenly appeared at the Lord's Palace.
"What is it."
"Family Head."
Glenn was already considering dropping a bolt of lightning the moment any nonsense came out of that mouth—when Rimer lifted his head. His eyes flashed with the same keen light they'd held back when he had been called the Radiant Sword of Zieghart, before that incident.
"It seems I moved a little too quickly."
Rimer looked at Glenn and smiled faintly.
"I'm sure you already noticed, Family Head, but I intended to send Raon up as Division Commander when this exam ended, and step down to Vice Commander or Guardian myself. However… I think I need to keep watching from a little higher up."
Glenn regarded him without the slightest hint of surprise, as if he had known all of it already.
"You always pick the stupidest things to do. What wind blew through your head this time?"
"It wasn't a wind from inside me. The one that blew in from outside was so strong I couldn't even resist."
Rimer glanced out the window and gave a small nod.
"Raon figured out that I was trying to pass him the Division Commander position. The brat's disgustingly sharp."
"What did that child say?"
"That a master isn't just a seat that teaches martial arts. He asked me to stand at the head of the Light Wind Squad a little longer."
"Mm…"
Glenn clicked his tongue softly and looked at Rimer. Life had returned to those eyes that had been as dead as rotting fish. How long had it been since he'd seen him like this?
That boy really is…
Raon seemed colder than anyone, and yet he possessed a warmth that yielded to no one. Glenn could feel that Rimer had drawn strength from the child's words.
"So your thoughts are… I suppose I don't even need to ask."
"Before, I wanted to watch the children grow a little more, and see Raon stand at the summit of the family. But now…"
Rimer lifted his head, smiling without a wrinkle of hesitation.
"I want to be there with him. It seems I need to get a little more serious myself."
"Is that so."
Glenn nodded, a faint smile on his lips. A smile rose unbidden. His cherished subordinate had found himself again, and the one who'd made it happen was his cherished grandson.
"Roen."
"I am writing it down. This one should go in Volume One."
Roen began recording the famous words of Raon's that Rimer had just relayed into the Gospel of Raon.
"A master is not merely a seat that teaches martial arts."
"The Light Wind Squad and I still want to keep moving forward looking at your back."
"I look forward to receiving much more of your guidance."
"Drinking with Raon brought back some old memories, so…"
"What."
At Glenn's icy voice, the atmosphere that had softened so gently froze over again like a sheet of ice.
"Pardon?"
"What did you just say."
"I had a drink with Raon. It was probably his first, and he handled it surprisingly well—"
"Eck!"
Rimer's mouth fell open mid-sentence. Above the ceiling of the Audience Chamber, the largest mass of thunder qi yet was surging upward.
"F-Family Head? Why all of a sudden…"
The mood had been good. He had no idea why Glenn was drawing up thunder qi—and drawing it up as if he genuinely meant to kill him.
"I-I really didn't do anything this time! I just had a drink with Raon!"
"That is your death sentence."
"What?"
Glenn clenched his teeth with an expression he had not shown even when facing the White Blood Cult Leader and Tatcheon, and dropped the thunder qi.
Raon finished training with the Light Wind Squad until midnight, then headed for the Annex.
They're all satisfied.
He had worked them mercilessly even after the exam, until murderous spirit filled their eyes—then handed them a week of leave. Every last gaze had cleared like the sky after rain.
"Urgh…"
Wrath looked his way and let out a suffering groan.
"This King does not understand. A week of rest was already promised. Why do they rejoice so?"
He muttered that he could not comprehend why they were so fond of the demon who had trained them even after the exam was over.
That's how you handle subordinates.
The most important thing when dealing with the people under you was when, and how, you gave the carrot and the stick. They had expected the training caused by Crain to drag on for days, but he had finished it in a single day and still given them the week of leave he'd originally promised. Of course they were happy.
"Hmm. So the method is to torment them first, then let them go…"
Wrath began scribbling something on his own round hands.
What are you doing?
"This King is taking notes on how thou tames humans."
He turned his head, wearing an enormous smile.
"When This King returns to the Demon Realm, or seizes thy body, This King shall put it to use! If This King masters this education, even the conquest of dimensions is no mere dream!"
…Is that so.
Talk of conquering dimensions sounded like a pipe dream, but handling subordinates properly was no easy thing. You had to read each person's emotions and condition and take different measures for each. Someone as dense as Wrath, though, might knock them all unconscious before they even started listening.
Give it your best. Just don't kill the kids—
Raon was giving Wrath's fluffy head a light pat when his mouth fell open.
Up in a tree in front of the Annex, a small hedgehog was waving.
"A-a hedgehog is waving hello…"
Don't tell me…