Now It's Our Turn
The sky was stained so black that not even a sliver of moon showed, let alone a single star. Below, a shallow yellowish-green swamp lapped like a creek.
He drew in a breath, and the air was different from a moment before.
Not the thick, clinging atmosphere saturated with death energy, but a pleasant wind — cool, yet carrying a gentle warmth.
Calming his heart, he slowly lifted his head. A man's back came into view. A swordsman whose brilliant gold hair stood in striking contrast to his silver armor. The First Clan Head of Zieghart.
So it was his trace after all.
The instant he'd seen the sword marks carved into the pillar, they'd felt familiar. As expected, they were the First Clan Head's.
He looks a little younger.
Unlike the last time Raon had seen him, his hair was cut short — a striking change. His face was still indistinct, but he seemed younger than he had in the dungeon, or in the cave beneath the Heavy Martial Palace.
After confirming the ancestor of House Zieghart, Raon looked to his side. A blue-haired swordsman in a yellow uniform gripped his sword with both hands.
Then this one must be the First Patriarch of House Arian.
The same sea-blue hair as Wendy Ariane, the same slender eyes. Their resemblance was close enough that her spirit might well have inherited the will of House Arian.
Finally, he raised his gaze to the sky.
An Arch Lich draped in a robe as black as the night sky, clutching a staff set with a pitch-black, dripping orb, looked down upon the two of them.
More than thirty Death Knights and banshees beneath it bared thick killing intent at the Zieghart ancestor and the Arian ancestor.
This is that battle.
The very fight Judiel had told him about — when the First Clan Head of House Zieghart and the First Patriarch of House Arian slew the Arch Lich that had risen in the Swamp of Death.
The Arch Lich raised its staff, and countless black magic circles bloomed across the sky and the earth. Dark spells erupted from the arrays and poured down upon the two warriors.
The ancestor of House Zieghart advanced with a footwork that left crimson footprints in his wake and drew his sword like a thunderbolt. Flame roared up the blade and burned the Death Knights and banshees to ash as if they were nothing.
The ancestor of House Arian summoned a blue storm with his green sword and split apart the Arch Lich's magic and its arrays alike.
The Arch Lich staggered back in alarm. Its back struck a black temple wreathed in burning death energy.
So the pillar I saw was a remnant of that temple.
The three pillars driven into the swamp had seemed strangely enormous. They must have been columns from the temple where the Arch Lich had worshipped a demon god.
The Arch Lich used the power of its staff and the temple to rapidly resummon its Death Knights and unleash even stronger black magic — but the two warriors, as if their bodies had only just loosened up, erased the undead and the spells even faster than before.
The moment the Zieghart ancestor cut down the last remaining Death Knight, he shattered the marsh underfoot, leapt, and crashed toward the Arch Lich.
The Arch Lich, just as Manghongwi had done, wielded death energy directly to form a black barrier — but it could not stop the fire dwelling in the Zieghart ancestor's sword, and split like a sheet of paper.
The Zieghart ancestor did not stop. He drove forward and carved open the Arch Lich's chest. The Arian ancestor loosed a ganggi laden with blue wind and took the Arch Lich's head.
A perfect victory. Without a single word, without so much as a gesture, the two warriors had executed a combination technique of exquisite precision. It felt like watching the Light Wind Squad — who'd beaten each other up so many times they could read each other's minds with a glance.
But neither the Zieghart ancestor nor the Arian ancestor lowered his sword. Both men frowned up at the Arch Lich still floating in the air, its neck and chest split open.
The Arch Lich gathered the death energy dwelling in the orb of its staff and in the temple, using its own body as a medium to form a colossal sphere of death aura. Self-destruction. It was the will to kill both warriors even if it meant detonating every last shred of death energy in this place.
The ancestor of House Zieghart thrust his sword at the sphere. From the heart of the blade, a breath of flame unfurled.
A dragon's roar of fire carved a blazing path from the heart of the blade.
But even the flame dragon's roar failed to pierce the sphere of condensed death aura, and scattered into nothing.
The Arian ancestor loosed scythe-shaped blades of sharp wind ganggi in rapid succession, but he too could not split the death-aura sphere, which only grew larger.
The Arch Lich's severed head cackled, mocking them both.
For the first time, the ancestor of House Zieghart and the ancestor of House Arian exchanged words. They nodded.
The Arian ancestor gripped his sword with both hands and drew in the wind spreading through the surroundings. The wind traveling along his sword path grew denser and denser, parting the death energy and opening a road toward the black sphere.
As if that were enough, the Zieghart ancestor settled into a middle stance and stepped forward. Sleek crimson ganggi flared along a blade as white as a snowfield.
He crushed the earth with his left foot and thrust his sword. From a single blade, dozens of crimson lights surged up and stabbed into the black sphere.
Thirty-six. In a single strike, flames occupying thirty-six directions wrapped the black sphere whole.
Crack-crack-crack!
The black sphere swelled in defiance, trying by any means to inflate its mass — but the thirty-six flames the Zieghart ancestor had created, bolstered by the sea-blue wind pressing in from behind, crushed it down.
KRAAAAAANG!
Like an amber fruit bound in iron chains and squeezed until it burst, the black sphere was mashed between the power of flame and wind, then detonated in a colossal explosion in midair. The shockwave rolling out behind it brought the Temple of Death itself crashing down.
The Zieghart ancestor drew a diagonal slash down upon the falling Arch Lich. The thing left not even a scream as it crumbled to ash.
He turned his head, just slightly. The moment Raon met those red eyes, burning as if flame itself lived in them, a pain like his skull catching fire seared through him — and with it, the principles of the swordsmanship he had just witnessed etched themselves into his mind.
It was the swordsmanship of Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation, after all.
But that one technique was not all he had gained. He could feel it in his bones — the martial principles that would let him walk that sword path had grown a full step deeper.
The First Clan Head of Zieghart gave a slight nod. It was a gesture meant for the Arian ancestor, not for Raon — and yet it felt as if he were asking whether Raon could do it.
Of course I can.
The moment Raon nodded that he could, a darkness blacker than before filled his vision, and a droning noise buzzed in his ears.
"…on."
"Raon!"
He blinked, and Rimer was waving at him.
"What the hell are you spacing out for?! We're running out of time!"
Rimer jabbed a finger at the black sphere, insisting they had to deal with it before it was too late.
"Mm…"
Raon lifted his head, following Rimer's hand. It felt as if not even ten seconds had passed since he'd fallen into a trance — but the death-aura sphere had already swollen as if it would blot out the sky.
You.
The moment Raon bit his lip, Wrath popped out and shoved his face in close.
"Where did you go off to this time?!"
What?
"This King is asking what you stuffed your face with to come back even stronger!"
Wrath ground his teeth, glaring at Raon.
What the hell even is this brat!
The way he constantly slipped into trances was irritating enough — but every so often the boy vanished soul and all, only to reappear radiating an even denser presence. This damned whelp had grown in a span of time that hadn't even reached ten seconds.
"Which sucker is handing out freebies this time?!"
A sucker, huh…
Raon raked a hand through the air above him and smiled faintly.
Whoever's up in the sky must think I'm cute, the way they keep handing things out.
"D-don't tell this King you're even stripping those hypocrites of the Celestial Realm bare! That would be…"
That would be?
"That would be a good thing?"
Wrath abruptly decided that those sorts of people deserved to be shaken down for everything they had, and nodded.
"Raon."
Raon was shaking his head at Wrath's unexpected reaction when Rimer came closer.
"You've got that ring Lady Chamber gave you, right?"
"Yes."
"Let's use it. Right now that's the only way to— no. Someone should already be here."
Rimer started to point at the ring, then lifted his head instead.
"Hey! There's a geezer around here with nothing better to do! Get out here and help!"
He bellowed with a voice loaded with aura, but no one appeared.
"What are you doing?"
"Ah, dammit! I was sure they'd come. Fine, the ring—"
"It's all right. I'll handle it. Just help me."
Raon shook his head, steadied his breathing, and set the Ring of Fire spinning. The resonance of the rings revolving around his heart snapped his mind awake.
"Y-you'll handle it?"
"Yes. I think I can cut it. But I'll need some help."
He gestured toward Wendy Ariane, who was watching over the field.
"Lady Wendy!"
"Eh?"
Wendy's eyes flew wide as a rabbit's. She clearly had not expected to be called.
"Please come here!"
"A-all right!"
Even in a situation where she might die at any moment, she did not hesitate. She ran to him.
"Is there a technique among House Arian's swordsmanship that parts energy currents with wind?"
"Th-there's a form called Wind's Path. But how did you…"
She tilted her head. It wasn't even an offensive technique, and she'd never used it in front of Raon. How could he possibly know?
"Please open a path to that death-aura sphere with that swordsmanship. And…"
Raon gestured toward Rimer.
"Squad Leader, help Lady Wendy. You'll be more than capable."
"Mm…"
Rimer wiped the sweat running down his chin with the back of his hand and smacked his lips.
"I'm a little worn out right now…"
He shook his head, claiming he'd fought too much and was exhausted.
"How much fighting have you even done, panting like a dog already? When we get back, we'll need to work on your stamina."
"Excuse me? Do you have any idea how much stamina and aura Sword Realm Manifestation—"
"I wouldn't know. If you can't even do this, go back and get ready to climb cliffs with the kids."
"Ghhk!"
Raon threw Rimer's own words straight back at him, and Rimer's face went paper-white.
"You vicious little…"
"You're the one who raised me this way, Squad Leader."
Raon waved him off, stepped forward, and took his place before the black sphere.
"Mm…"
Wendy stared at Raon's back, her lips trembling.
Can I even do this? Someone like me?
Raon had asked her — but she had no confidence she could properly open Wind's Path. It wasn't that she hadn't trained. It was the thought of stepping forward at a moment this critical, when a single mistake might kill everyone.
I don't think I can…
Her hands shook. Her heart hammered like a war drum. She couldn't even remember how to swing a sword, let alone Wind's Path. Her mind felt hollowed out.
She was about to tell Raon she couldn't do it when he looked back.
"A thousand years ago, our ancestors split the darkness in this very place. Now it's our turn."
He smiled gently, as if he knew every ounce of the tension in her heart.
"Wendy Ariane. You are the only person in House Arian who has inherited your ancestor's will. You can do this."
He didn't even wait for her answer. He turned to face forward again. That unshaking back spoke of trust.
"Don't worry so much."
As Wendy's trembling began to ease, Rimer came up beside her.
"If that insolent subordinate of mine says you can do it, that means it's definitely possible. Don't put pressure on yourself. Just do it the way you always do."
He offered a refreshing smile, telling her to relax.
"Ah…"
The thought that a once-in-a-generation genius called the White Sword Dragon believed in her snapped the thick rope that had been cinched around her chest. Not all the trembling vanished — but the feeling that she was about to make a mistake receded, clearly and cleanly.
"I-I'll begin."
Wendy bit down on her lip and thrust her sword as if drawing it for the first time. A raging wind bloomed from the silver blade and carved a sea-blue path toward the black sphere.
A raging gale bloomed from the silver blade, carving a sea-blue road through the death energy.
Crack-crack!
But Wendy's power was not enough. The path twisted, on the verge of collapsing before it could be completed. Just as the blue wind was about to be shoved aside by the death energy, a green wind blew in and braced it from behind.
Whoooooosh!
Rimer. Gritting his teeth, he split the flow of death aura with a sword wreathed in green wind. The slender green gale dwelling in the blade surged up like a waterspout and drove into the Wind's Path Wendy had raised.
Chiiiiing!
The two winds twisted together and opened a smooth road of wind leading to the black sphere.
"You've been lying down for a long time, Squad Leader. A little extra strain on your spine should be fine."
Raon approached the black sphere and closed his eyes. What he painted in his mind was the sword of the First Clan Head of Zieghart he had just witnessed — an absolute martial art that occupied thirty-six directions at once.
Copying it exactly is beyond me.
The Clan Head he'd seen today was stronger than he was now.
No — strength aside, perfectly executing an absolute martial art he'd seen for the first time today, without a shred of practice, was impossible even with the Ring of Fire.
Which is why… you have to help me too.
He adjusted his grip on the Requiem Sword in his left hand and smiled.
Vmmmmm.
Listening to the Requiem Sword's pleasant hum, Raon took his place before the black sphere.
"You insolent brat! We're going all-out from here!"
"Aaaaaah!"
With Rimer and Wendy's battle cries, the death energy was driven back completely, and an emerald road of wind opened all the way to the black sphere.
Thoom!
Raon stamped a footfall that made the earth itself ring, and wrenched every last shred of Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation remaining in his aura core. Enduring an agony as if his mana circuits would burn away, he assumed the opening stance of the First Clan Head he had seen in his trance.
A perfect middle stance — neither excessive nor lacking. He loosed both swords, held before his aura core, at the same time. The Heavenly Sky Sword and the Requiem Sword shot forward as shafts of light, and the breath of flame settled upon their blades.
Kuguuguuguk!
Like comets racing across the night sky, thirty-six streams of flame encircled the black sphere and generated an immense pressure.
Crack-crack-crack!
But the death aura contained in the black sphere was so vast it would not melt easily.
Not yet.
He could not give up like this. He drove Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation and the Ring of Fire until his heart and aura core screamed, and poured out every last drop of remaining energy.
Crrrk.
Blood ran from his nose and mouth. His bones and skin stung as if they would be crushed — but he bit down on his lip and took one more step.
Fwoooooosh!
The wind Wendy Ariane and Rimer raised grew stronger still. A warm wind, pushing at his back.
What feeds a fire is wind.
Crimson flame and blue wind meshed like interlocking gears, and the lines of fire bloomed by the Thirty-Six Stances of Red Flash thickened and swelled.
Kuguuguuguung!
A colossal blaze crushed down on the death-aura sphere and began to burn away the death energy dwelling within it.
"Uaaaaaah!"
Raon wrung every last grain of muscle and aura dry, melted the black sphere as far as it would go, and hurled it into the sky.
KWAAAAAANG!
The sphere of flame, shrunk until the black energy was all but invisible, burst and detonated in a colossal explosion.
"Haaah…"
Only after watching the dark-crimson energies fall like cherry blossoms did Raon lower his sword.
It's over…
Because he had poured out every ounce of his strength, he had been able to dispose of the sphere cleanly. Whether from the aftermath of that immense power or not, the three pillars that had granted him enlightenment crumbled into dust.
Thank you.
He bowed his head, thinking of the ancestor of House Zieghart and the ancestor of House Arian.
"Hoo…"
He let out a breath and was just getting to his feet when Rimer came running.
"What the hell was that swordsmanship?! I've never even seen it before!"
His shoulders bounced as he demanded to know whether Raon had invented another technique.
"Thank you, Squad Leader."
Raon lowered his eyes, looking at the sweat running down Rimer's forehead. For all his swagger, it was obvious the man had helped with everything he had.
"Come on, this much is the least a squad leader should do. But I'm completely out of strength now. You carry me all the way back to House Arian."
"Ah — come to think of it, why were you so la—"
He was about to ask Rimer why he'd arrived so late when his vision blurred. A blue screen seemed to be rising — a message, by the look of it — but he had no mind left to read it.
"—te, you brat…"
Raon passed out mid-scolding and toppled backward.
"Hup!"
Rimer mashed the ground underfoot as he lunged, and caught Raon as he fell.
He's completely spent.
Raon had used every last drop of stamina and aura, without leaving a single grain, and had lost consciousness.
"You did well."
Rimer patted Raon's back gently. He smiled, looking at a disciple who'd grown too big to hold easily anymore.
"Thanks to you, everyone survived."
He meant it. If not for Raon a moment ago, everyone here would have been in danger.
The boy had blocked the death energy perfectly, just as he'd promised. A disciple you could trust, no matter how many times you looked at him.
"Thanks to you, I got to swing my sword to my heart's content for the first time in so long. It was fun. Felt like I'd gone back to the old days."
Rimer offered Raon a small nod of respect, his eyes warm.
"Thank you."
My young king.