Heavenly Killing Daggers
Raon opened the wooden box all the way and lifted the throwing dagger from inside.
The killing intent is thick.
The blade was shaped as if an arrowhead and an awl had been fused into one, and a killing intent so dense it raised the hair on his arms clung to every edge. It was hard to believe a weapon that had never tasted a single drop of blood could bleed an aura this vicious.
So this is a true throwing dagger...
A throwing dagger, by its nature, was never forged to subdue. It was made to kill. Its entire reason for existing was to punch through a vital point and snuff a life out in a single stroke — and this weapon looked as though it had reached the absolute peak of that purpose.
He packed it with killing intent instead of frost.
Borgos had apparently stripped away the cold that had clung to the drake's fang and drawn its sharpness and murderous will out to the utmost.
Wrath looked down at the throwing dagger and narrowed his eyes.
That dwarf shit-sack went and crafted something grotesque.
Yeah. This is no ordinary weapon.
Raon closed his fingers around the dagger and nodded.
I figured he'd send something decent. I never expected a throwing dagger this special.
However the whole affair had turned out, the process of obtaining these daggers had been outright extortion, so he hadn't expected anything particularly remarkable. But the weapons Borgos had sent didn't fall far short of the Heavenly Sky Sword or the Requiem Sword.
And he sent two of them, no less.
He had asked for them as a set, but at this quality, even one would have been more than enough. The fact that Borgos had sent a pair made it obvious the dwarf had pushed himself to the limit.
That sucker of a shit-sack!
Wrath pounded his own chest and ground his teeth.
After getting thoroughly played by you, why would he make a weapon like this?! This King cannot comprehend it!
A craftsman's pride, most likely.
Borgos had shown his competitive streak the moment he laid eyes on the Heavenly Sky Sword Vulcan had forged and Kuberad's Requiem Sword. Showing him those two blades had clearly worked even better than expected.
It is truly bizarre! Why do suckers never cease to gather around you?! They cling to you like flies to dung!
Who knows...
Raon let out a quiet chuckle as he watched Wrath tremble with rage. Maybe it was because the incarnation of suckers himself was stuck to him. In his previous life, the only people who attached themselves to him were those looking to use him. In this one, people who wanted to give him everything they had seemed to appear without end — and looking at it that way, it was probably all thanks to that Demon King of easy marks.
Thanks. Lord of Suckers.
Raon smiled at Wrath, who bobbed in the air, still venting his complaints.
"Quite the remarkable piece."
Dokoe let out a low whistle as he studied the throwing dagger.
"Yes. It seems Master Borgos put some real effort into these."
"Craftsmen never do shoddy work. It's a matter of pride."
He nodded slowly and handed over the paper that had been sitting inside the wooden box. Raon took it and unfolded it. A brief greeting was written there, along with the throwing dagger's name.
"Heavenly Killing Dagger..."
Borgos had given this killing-intent-soaked pair a name as chilling as the blades themselves.
"That's a terrifying name."
"That dwarf has always been famous for giving his work vicious names."
Dokoe waved a hand as if to say that was just the kind of dwarf Borgos was.
Raon dipped his head slightly toward the Heavenly Killing Daggers, a quiet thanks to Borgos in the gesture.
I'll put them to good use.
He tucked both throwing daggers against his chest. They were so light they felt as if they had become one with his body. Raon gave a light tap to the place he'd stored them and smiled.
Just one thing left now.
Raon finished the Light Wind Squad's training and did not return to the Annex until dawn.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He had just finished showering and was sitting on the edge of the bed, listening to Wrath complain about being hungry, when three knocks sounded at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened the instant the words left his mouth, and Judiel stepped inside. She set a covered plate on the table, then drew a booklet from her skirt and held it out.
"A compiled report on House Arian and the Swamp of Death."
He had only mentioned that a new mission had come down, and in that short span she had already organized the information and bound it into a booklet.
"Thanks."
"Not at all."
Judiel shook her head and lifted the lid from the plate. Two egg sandwiches sat there — ham, cheese, and scrambled eggs tucked between slices of bread.
"I thought you might have skipped a meal, so I brought these."
She set the lid aside and told him to eat at his ease.
As expected of the intel girl! She certainly knows how to look after snacks!
Wrath grinned, declaring that at this rate he might even take her on as a subordinate.
Eat it before it gets cold!
He pounded Raon's shoulder like a little drum, urging him to take a bite that instant.
Stop rushing me.
Raon let out a short sigh and bit into the sandwich. The butter-toasted crunch of the bread, the salt of the ham and cheese, and the rich scramble of the eggs came together so well a smile rose on its own.
Delicious! It is decided! From this day forth, This King shall take the intel girl as a subordinate as well!
Sure. Sure. Do whatever you want.
Raon left Wrath to his own devices and opened the booklet.
"Hm?"
One sword unit, and even the squad leader was only at the entry stage of Master?
He had known House Arian was not particularly strong, but he had not expected their finest warrior to be an early Master, or that they would have only a single sword unit. The family was weaker than he had anticipated.
"House Arian was originally renowned for its martial strength. There are even records of them holding their own against the Sullions."
Judiel began her explanation as if she had read his thoughts.
"But the monsters that emerge from the Swamp of Death they guard are only feeble zombies and skeletons, so they gradually neglected their martial training. They also cultivate Marsh Grapes, which are famous for fetching a high price, so money was never an issue. They have lived in idleness for a very long time."
"I get the picture."
Raon gave a cold little laugh. He didn't need to see it for himself to know how House Arian was being run.
"Does the Swamp of Death only produce zombies and skeletons?"
"Hundreds of years ago, an Arch Lich born in that marsh started a war and was annihilated by Zieghart and Arian. The records state that ever since, only undead at the level of zombies have appeared."
Judiel answered without the slightest hesitation, as if she had grasped every scrap of information in this short window of time. Raon nodded and read the booklet from cover to cover. Thanks to the Ring of Fire, a single pass burned every word into his mind.
"So this swordsman named Wendy reached Master in the middle of all that?"
"She is the martial artist currently carrying House Arian on her back. She has little real authority, but she is the one the people there follow most readily."
"I'm starting to see how we should move once we get there."
Judiel's investigation had been so thorough that a picture of how to handle House Arian was already taking shape.
"How are the Heavy Martial Palace and Jinmu Hall these days?"
He handed the booklet back as he asked.
"They've been moving busily, trying to pile up achievements."
"Achievements?"
"Yes."
Judiel nodded.
"They seem to have felt threatened by the results the Light Wind Squad has been stacking up, along with the collaterals and outsiders. They've been racing through missions, scrambling not to lose the initiative."
She let a faint sneer slip, adding that the direct line appeared to be feeling the pressure, little by little.
"I like the sound of that."
The thought of those direct-line nobles — who had sat on their heavy backsides as if they were already the heads of the house — finally scrambling to move brought a smile to his face all on its own. The only people among the direct line he actually liked were Kane, Trevin, and Denier, Marta's father, so he hoped the rest would suffer plenty.
"Nothing else?"
"This came through the black market..."
Judiel hid the booklet in her skirt again and lowered her hands.
"A man calling himself the Pirate King has appeared."
"Pirate King?"
"He claims to have sailed every sea on the continent and styles himself the Pirate King. His martial strength is no ordinary thing, and a great many factions have acknowledged him."
"A king, huh..."
Plenty of men called themselves kings. Being recognized as one by others was far rarer. It meant he had the skill to back it up.
"He's a long way from us, so you needn't concern yourself."
"Got it."
"Then please rest well."
"Thanks for the intel."
"Not at all."
Judiel bowed and left the room.
"A self-proclaimed Pirate King."
Raon nodded with a faint smile.
"The continent never runs out of interesting things."
Pirate King this, Pirate King that! Stop drumming while This King is eating! Just eat the damn sandwich!
A gray fortress wall rose from a land ruled by yellowish-green swamp. Mismatched, and yet in its own way harmonious — this was House Arian and the Swamp of Death.
Archers stood along the wall with bows slung, their eyes as dull as if they had already had a drink or two. They were yawning from sheer boredom when a group of people in work clothes climbed up onto the battlements. They tied safety lines around their waists and leapt off the wall.
The workers used the lines to walk along the face of the wall, packing mud into the old, cracked, and broken sections and fitting stone fragments into the gaps.
"Ugh, what a pain."
"Right? It's nothing but low-grade undead. I don't know why they make us do this."
"The zombies can't even get near the wall anyway."
"Lady Wendy worries way too much. That's her problem."
"Just slap it on. Slap it. Make the outside look clean."
They stuck out their lips in open complaint as they patched the wall, filling the inside carelessly and tamping only the surface until it looked tidy. There was plenty that needed repair, but the work was so slipshod that it was all finished before long.
The middle-aged workers climbed back up onto the wall. The youngest of them was making a final check when a small ripple stirred in the marsh.
"Hm?"
The young man turned, then frowned.
"It's a zombie."
A corpse with its flesh melted away was trudging slowly toward the wall.
"Altel!"
He shouted up at the battlements, and the head of a yawning archer appeared.
"Are you just sitting around up there? A zombie's coming!"
"Ah, sorry. I was thinking about dinner."
The archer called Altel smacked his lips and nocked an arrow. He loosed the string with a casual flick and turned his back without even checking the result.
The arrow split the wind, punched through the zombie's head, and buried itself in the marsh. The zombie only staggered for a moment. It did not fall. It started toward the wall again.
"Uuuuoooorgh!"
"Altel!"
The young worker scowled and shouted upward once more.
"Can't you even shoot anymore? That thing's not dead!"
"Huh?"
Altel tilted his head and raised his bow again.
"I definitely hit it, though?"
The arrow had flown on a trajectory that could not have missed. He had no idea how that zombie was still moving. He nocked another arrow, aimed dead-center at the zombie's forehead, and loosed.
The zombie took the arrow through the middle of its skull and pitched into the marsh, sinking out of sight.
"What a nuisance."
"You should've hit it the first time."
"I did hit it! That zombie was the weird one!"
"Hmmm..."
"I'm serious!"
Altel shook his head, then rested a hand on the wall.
"Forget that junk. How about a beer tonight?"
"You're buying?"
"I blew this month's pay. You're buying."
"What kind of deal is that?!"
While the two of them traded easy banter, a pair of blue-green eyes of light rose from the marsh where the zombie had just sunk. Those eyes poured a chilling radiance out of the darkness, as if they were taking the measure of everything House Arian possessed.
Raon finished his preparations and left the Annex.
Sylvia and the maids were standing in a circle in the garden, and at the center of it were Yua and Julius.
"Yua. No matter where you go, you have to eat proper meals."
"I dried some jerky for you. Take all of it."
"You packed the cooking ingredients, right?"
"Be sure to greet your seniors properly."
The maids fussed over Yua as if she were their own little sister, piling one thing after another into her arms. Before long her pack was swollen to the point of bursting.
"Thank you, unnies!"
Yua beamed as she hoisted a pack bigger than she was, then hugged each of the maids in turn to say goodbye.
"Always watch your surroundings."
"You're the youngest, so when there's work to be done, you move before your seniors do."
"You get bitten by bugs a lot. If you have to sleep outdoors, make sure you light the insect-repelling incense."
"If a fight breaks out, watch how the other seniors move and then act."
The maids teared up even as they helped Julius into his outer coat.
"I will go forth and raise the honor of the Annex!"
Julius thumped his chest as if he were already a knight, his expression full of dignity.
"Aww, these precious little things!"
"It feels too soon for them to go!"
"Stay here just one more year, okay?"
The maids stuck out their lips, worried sick that the children they had raised like younger siblings were heading somewhere dangerous.
"They say it isn't that dangerous a place, but you must always be careful."
Sylvia smiled as she stroked Yua's and Julius's hair.
"If it gets dangerous, hide behind Raon."
"Yeees!"
"As one who has become a swordsman, I cannot hide behind my benefactor's back!"
Yua nodded hard. Julius refused, firm as stone.
"That's a little grand."
Raon chuckled and walked over to where Yua and Julius stood. Sylvia, Helen, and the maids, however, did not spare him the slightest attention. They fussed over Yua and Julius alone.
"You can never pack too much food— hm?"
Sylvia looked up from checking the two children's bags.
"Oh, you're here?"
That was all. She went right back to inspecting Yua's and Julius's condition and their luggage.
"Looks like it's time."
"Have a good trip."
"I've said it before and I'll say it again — if it's dangerous, you run!"
The maids paid Raon no mind either, fussing only over Yua and Julius. Raon stood there awkwardly and clicked his tongue.
This is a little...
Ordinarily, when Sylvia and the maids fussed over him, he found it embarrassing and didn't much like it. Having them ignore him entirely, though, left a dull weight in his chest.
What a troublesome fellow.
Wrath snorted, declaring him a bizarre personality.
"Young Master!"
"We're all finished!"
Yua and Julius finished their goodbyes with the maids and came over.
"...Let's go."
"Raon! Take good care of Yua and Julius!"
"Young Master, please look after the children!"
"Make sure they eat properly!"
Sylvia and the maids worried over Yua and Julius right up to the moment of departure.
"Don't worry."
Raon gave a small nod and started toward the training ground. The two children chattered as they followed behind him.
He was thinking he would leave without even a proper goodbye of his own when Sylvia's and the maids' voices rose from behind.
"Raon! You be careful too! Don't you dare overdo it!"
"Yua! Make sure the Young Master is eating properly!"
"Julius. Don't let the Young Master do nothing but train!"
This time, the voices were worrying over Raon, not the two children.
"I'll be back."
Raon glanced over his shoulder and nodded much more firmly than before, then headed for the Fifth Training Ground.
A truuuuly troublesome fellow....
Wrath sighed at the back of Raon's head.
Raon walked toward the Fifth Training Ground, going over the travel precautions with Yua and Julius once more. When he opened the door and stepped inside, the Light Wind Squad was already formed up in ranks before the platform.
He sent Yua and Julius to the very back, then climbed onto the dais. Standing at the edge of the platform, he looked down over the Light Wind Squad.
"Looks like you're all ready."
The squad members' eyes were as sharp as freshly honed blades. It was not only their bodies and their technique that had been tempered — their minds had been honed as well.
"They say this isn't a particularly difficult mission, but you never know the truth of a thing until you're in it. There are no fools in the Mad Dog Squad who let their guard down. Give it everything you have, always."
"Yes, sir!"
The Light Wind Squad roared a reply loud enough to shake the training ground. Raon nodded, satisfied.
"When we return here, we will no longer be called the Mad Dog Squad. We will be known as the Mad Dog Corps."
"Waaaaaaaah!"
The Light Wind Squad erupted in another thunderous cheer.
"Ooooh! Mad Do— wait?"
Burren's face had gone red with shouting. He froze mid-cheer.
Is nobody else noticing something's off?
Raon had clearly said "Mad Dog" twice, and yet the swordsmen had done nothing but roar in approval.
"What the hell?!"
He jerked his chin up and glared.
"It's Light Wind, not Mad Dog!"
Why was he so damn desperate to turn them into rabid dogs?!