A Path of Flames
Raon pressed forward, carving through the Sword Demon's crushing pressure with the Myriad Swords he had newly woven together.
His entire body screamed. Bones shattered and crumbled; a pain as if every muscle were being ripped apart set his fingertips trembling. Worst of all was his brain. His overheated Upper Dantian made it feel as though the inside of his skull were collapsing into black ash.
Ghhhk...
He ground his molars together and lifted his gaze. The Sword Demon's blue eyes remained as still and sunken as ever—the look of a man who had expected even this.
Still within his predictions, then?
The complete lack of surprise told Raon that the man had lived up to the name Sword Demon and foreseen his growth.
Fine. He would shatter that expression.
Enduring pain was as natural to him as breathing. He clenched his grip, bearing the agony of a heart and skull that felt ready to burst.
The Upper Dantian, resonating with the Ring of Fire, burned a searing red. The bodies of the swords buried in his Mental World revealed themselves a little further, and the principles of the Myriad Swords contained in the Heavenly Sky Sword blazed with brilliant light.
One step. Then another.
The Sword Demon, who had seemed so impossibly distant, drew close before his eyes, and the Heavenly Sky Sword came near enough to touch the man's blade.
The Heavenly Sky Sword and the Sword Demon's sword collided. There was no shockwave, no thunderous crash. Between the two edges, the Myriad Swords each man had cultivated clashed in a contest of power, raising a clear, crystalline ring.
Yet contrary to that noble resonance, the pressure pouring from the Sword Demon's blade doubled, crushing Raon's entire body.
"Ghhhhk!"
His ankles trembled as if he were wading through mud; his knees buckled as though they would snap. It felt as if his whole body were screaming at him to stop.
...I'm going anyway.
To smash that man's expression.
He poured out every last drop of remaining aura and set the Ring of Fire resonating.
The world drowned in white. Only the Sword Demon and his blade remained.
A vision of the sword-sprouts embedded in his Mental World surging upward flooded him, and a more mature martial comprehension settled into the Heavenly Sky Sword.
The Sword Demon's blade, which had been descending endlessly as if it carried the weight of the sky itself, was pushed back for the first time.
Like a salmon swimming up a waterfall, Raon's Myriad Swords began to split the Sword Demon's.
With a cutting sound like thousands of sheets of paper being sliced at once, the Sword Demon's blade rose more than a handspan.
"Nnh..."
A faint groan escaped the Sword Demon's lips for the first time, and his eyes—which had been as still as stopped time—rippled like a surface struck by a wave.
Just a little more...
His body felt like it was dying, but his mind, if anything, was growing clearer.
I think I can break the wall.
He had already broken through the wall of Peak Master—but a far greater wall beyond it looked as if it, too, could fall.
He wrung out what little energy remained, refined the principles of his swordsmanship to their absolute limit, and poured them into the Heavenly Sky Sword. The Sword Demon's blade was driven even farther back.
In the white space occupied by no one but the Sword Demon and himself, a puff of blue cotton candy suddenly burst into view.
"You fool... you'll... die like this..."
Wrath appeared right in front of him, flailing his round little hands and shouting, but Raon couldn't make out the words.
"Your head... exploding... stop..."
He was throwing a fit as if he wanted something to eat again.
I'll feed you later.
Raon ignored him and kept drawing up power. His Mental World warped as if it were about to expand, and a magnificent flood of light welled up before his eyes.
I can go higher.
A wall leading to a realm an entire dimension above began to come into view.
He thought he had only a little left, and he advanced toward that wall—when the Sword Demon's blade, which had been guiding him all the way there, was knocked away far too easily.
"Ah..."
A hollowness as if his heart had vanished made him drop the Heavenly Sky Sword.
The enormous wall he could have touched if he had only stretched out his hand sank away, and the pure white space that had held no one but the Sword Demon and himself vanished. That moment—whether dream or imagination—crumbled like a dry leaf.
Damn it!
A little. Just a little further, and if he had only crossed that one wall...
Regretting the wall he had failed to seize, he tried to clench his fist. Or rather, he tried to put strength into it—and no strength came.
"Khack!"
A hideous, blooming agony erupted from his heart and his head—no, from his entire body—and he dropped to his knees before he knew it.
"Hahk! Hahk!"
He couldn't breathe. He clutched the left side of his chest and forced himself to draw air. Oxygen filled his emptied lungs, and his closed field of vision opened.
The countless spectators he had forgotten, and the ruined arena, came into view.
"Ugh..."
Raon wiped the sweat running down his cheek with his sleeve. His uniform was soaked red. Blood seemed to have come from his eyes and nose.
What... what in the world...
"You lunatic!"
Wrath burst forward and seized him by the collar.
"You nearly died, you fool!"
He had been forcing his Upper Dantian past its limits and had come within a breath of dying, Wrath said, shaking the hand that held Raon's collar.
I nearly died?
"That's right! You weren't even breathing, forcing both frost and heat mana while trying to rip open the door of your Upper Dantian—how was your body supposed to endure that?"
Ah...
"Your flesh belongs to This King! Do not treat it so carelessly!"
Wrath told him never to pull a stunt like that again, and came at him with a headbutt.
"Are you all right?"
A low voice settled the churning in Raon's gut.
"Nnh..."
Raon swallowed a groan and lifted his head. The Sword Demon was looking at him with the same gaze as at the start.
No—not quite the same. Those seemingly composed eyes were trembling, faintly.
"Do you realize you just crossed a threshold of death?"
The Sword Demon said the same thing Wrath had, and let out a low breath.
"You could have gained a great deal simply by enduring my sword. Instead, you tried to push it back and nearly paid a price you can never recover—your life."
His eyes flashed with a piercing light. A gaze steeped in deep reproach. The sharpness in it, keener than when he had been bringing his sword down, made Raon's hair stand on end.
"That old man speaks the truth. Had he withdrawn his sword even a moment later, your Upper Dantian would have exploded, and you wouldn't have been able to keep your form."
Wrath smacked his lips, as if seeing the Sword Demon in a new light.
He withdrew his sword... Ah!
Raon remembered how, just as he thought he could reach that enormous wall if he advanced a little further, the Sword Demon's blade had been pushed back far too easily.
He had thought the man was obstructing his growth. It seemed, instead, that the act had saved his life.
Then he really was trying to teach me?
The Sword Demon had not, as he had first claimed, been trying to avenge his disciple's disgrace. He had been trying to help a junior who still had a long way to go.
"Thank you for saving me."
Raon bit his lip and bowed at the waist in a formal posture.
"Wounds of the flesh can be healed. Internal injuries take time, but they recover. A dantian, however, is difficult to restore once it has been damaged."
The Sword Demon tapped his own temple with a forefinger.
"The Upper Dantian in particular—if you mishandle it, you can end up a cripple, or an idiot. It requires far more delicate control than the other dantians."
"I see..."
"There are children born with the Upper Dantian already open, but for most, it opens only after they become a Grandmaster."
The Sword Demon looked toward Yua in the distance.
"You, however, are neither. You were not born with it open, yet it opened as you grew—an unusual case. This time, you operated that barely opened Upper Dantian beyond its limits until it ran wild, and that is how you arrived at this state."
In a calm voice, he explained why the phenomenon had occurred.
"Upper Master at the age of twenty. No—now that you've crossed the wall, that would be Peak Master. You reached the summit far too quickly."
The Sword Demon's eyes sank low, as if observing him from a great height.
"If the stairs you have climbed until now were cut from sharp rock, the stairs you must walk from here on may be made of rotten wood—or of paper thin as a whisper."
It seemed to mean that, unlike until now, he would have to place each step of his future growth with care.
"Even a prosperous woodcutter needs time now and then to sharpen his axe. You crossed one wall today, so take some ease for a while."
"I will keep that in mind."
Raon nodded as he took in the Sword Demon's sage advice.
He's right.
Through the duel with the Sword Demon, he had risen to Peak Master, and he had gained a great enlightenment regarding the Myriad Swords.
Grandmaster and Sword Realm Manifestation still lay far off—but if he advanced one careful step at a time, he felt he could reach them before too long.
"To grow by falling into a trance in the middle of real combat means you throw everything you have into ordinary training, I suppose. I think I understand a little now how you reached this realm at the age of twenty."
The Sword Demon smiled faintly and sheathed his sword.
"Continue to devote yourself."
"Yes."
Raon bowed to him once more, and as he rose, cheers erupted from the arena.
"Wooooaaaaah!"
"The White Sword Dragon blocked the Sword Demon's strike!"
"Raon! Raon! Raon!"
"White Sword Dragon! White Sword Dragon! White Sword Dragon!"
The people had not realized that the Sword Demon had withdrawn his blade. They chanted only the name of the White Sword Dragon.
"How does that human get stronger every time I see him?"
"Where is his realm even at now?"
"Doesn't that mean he can beat even the upper ranks of the Continental Twelve Stars?"
"More than enough!"
The spectators roared, arguing over the extent of Raon's martial prowess.
"That's not what happened!"
Raon raised both hands.
"This time, I..."
He tried to say that the Sword Demon had withdrawn of his own accord, but every spectator in the arena was shouting, and it was useless.
"It's all right."
The Sword Demon shook his head.
"But if it isn't properly explained, your reputation, Sword Demon—"
"Reputation of that sort means nothing to me."
He said that fame was of no significance to him, then lowered his gaze.
"It hardly counts as a substitute, but might I ask you a few questions?"
"As many as you like..."
As Raon nodded, Rimer's shout rang out from behind him.
"It's a flower path from here! From now on, I walk nothing but a path of flowers!"
Even with so many people cheering, his voice somehow lodged itself right in the ear.
"I will answer anything I am able to. Before that, however..."
Raon looked back, his eyes gleaming with a killing frost.
The moment Rimer realized something was wrong with Raon, he had bolted forward—then stopped.
Looks like he's all right, thankfully.
Raon had been forcing his Upper Dantian, but it seemed the Sword Demon had halted him in time.
I heard he had a cold nature. Unexpected.
Rimer had not let his guard down, fearing the Sword Demon might do something vicious. Instead, the man had raised Raon's realm and pulled him out of danger.
Rumors really aren't worth trusting.
Watching him go so far as to offer advice to the boy who had humiliated his disciple, Rimer thought the man seemed magnanimous—quite unlike the reputation for sharpness that preceded him.
"The duel ended well, and I..."
I'm rich agaaaaain!
The gold coins he had entrusted to the Third Prince of Owen, the profits to be drawn from them, plus a forty percent commission on top—it was no different from raking in money with a clawed hand.
They'll kick a bit over the commission, but if I say it's to support House Arian, they'll simmer down.
People would raise hell when they heard the commission was forty percent, but if he told them it was for House Arian's sake, they would have no choice but to accept it.
I really am a genius. And besides...
Rimer put his hands together in prayer toward Raon, who stood facing the Sword Demon.
Our little fortune-bringer Raon is my one and only god of wealth. I look forward to your continued—
Hm?
Rimer narrowed his eyes as he looked at Raon and the Sword Demon standing opposite each other.
Now I get it. Why he felt familiar.
He had never seen the Sword Demon before, but now he understood why the man had given him that sense of familiarity.
He gestured to Dorian, who was clapping blankly beside him.
"Dorian."
"Y-yes?"
"Doesn't Raon look a bit like that old Sword Demon?"
"H-huh? The Sword Demon is handsome, sure, but he's no match for the vice-captain."
"Ignore the hair and the eyes. Look closely at the harmony of his features."
Dorian scratched his head and studied Raon's face, then the Sword Demon's, in turn.
"Huh? Ohh!"
He looked at Rimer and nodded rapidly.
"Now that you mention it, they really do look alike! Raon's looks are far more striking, but he and the Sword Demon share something!"
Dorian nodded, adding that it wasn't merely similar—it was almost the exact same feeling.
"Whether that's a coincidence... Hm?"
As Rimer smacked his lips, Raon gestured to him. A motion that said to come over.
"Squad leader. I think the vice-captain is calling you?"
"So he is. Why would he?"
"Training came up a moment ago, so maybe he wants to credit your teaching for how he withstood the Sword Demon's blade?"
"Mm. You think so?"
Raon had never cared much about reputation, so it occurred to Rimer that the boy might be doing it simply to dodge the hassle.
"Ahem! Well then, I suppose I should go out."
Rimer cleared his throat, straightened his clothes, and climbed up onto the arena.
"Woooooooooh!"
"It's the Light Wind Squad Leader!"
"The White Sword Dragon's master!"
Perhaps because Raon had put on such an extraordinary display, cheers burst forth even for Rimer, whose name was known as his master.
"Why did you call me?"
Rimer let out a weighty voice that no one could have imagined belonged to a man who had been running a gambling den moments before.
"Our squad leader did a good deed. We ought to let everyone know."
"A good deed?"
He called it a good deed, but Raon's eyes gleamed with something unwholesome. They were the eyes of a hawk sighting a rabbit.
Raon raised a hand, and the cheers filling the entire arena died at once. He nodded in satisfaction and took his place at the center of the arena.
"You are all aware that our squad leader opened a gambling den."
At that, people tilted their heads, wondering why he had suddenly brought up gambling.
"For a squad leader of House Zieghart's martial forces to be running a gambling den is a strange affair, of course. But there was a grand design of our squad leader's behind it."
"Mm..."
Raon's words were clearly close to praise, yet Rimer's heart strangely shriveled.
"You may not have known, but our squad leader set the commission on this round of gambling at forty percent."
"F-forty?"
"Has he lost his mind?"
"What kind of gambling commission is forty percent?!"
"That's taking almost half of whatever you win!"
"That swindler!"
"Grab him and rip his ears off!"
Rimer had written the forty percent commission on the stall in lettering so tiny that only a Master could read it. The people, learning of it now, drew their swords and cycled their aura as if they were about to leap onto the arena that instant.
"W-what?! Why would you say that all of a sudden?!"
Rimer clapped a hand over his mouth.
What on earth is going on here?!
He looked to Raon for an explanation, but Raon did not even glance his way.
"You must want to curse him. You must want to scream that even a loan shark wouldn't take that much. But our squad leader's plan starts now."
A wicked smile on his face, Raon raised his hand.
"Our squad leader has decided to donate the entire commission from both rounds of gambling to House Arian, which suffered grave wounds this time!"
"Huh? Me?"
At those words, Rimer's face went pale—and cheers rose from the crowd once more.
"Woooooooooh!"
"That's our Light Wind Squad Leader!"
"So that's why he took forty percent! He was painting the big picture!"
"If it's a donation to House Arian, we can accept that much!"
"Rimer! Rimer! Rimer!"
The people, still holding their swords, chanted Rimer's name again.
"And what's more!"
Raon was not finished. Rimer wanted to clamp the boy's mouth shut that instant, but no strength would enter his limbs.
"Our squad leader will personally donate an additional one thousand gold coins, and has decided to hold a second festival the day after tomorrow!"
"Ah..."
A thousand gold coins was no different from coughing up every last coin he had made using the Third Prince. The world began to spin like a carnival wheel.
"N-no! I never said any of that! You lunatics!"
Rimer used his entire body to express that it was not so, but not a soul would have it.
"Yeaaaaaaaah!"
"Rimer! Rimer! Rimer!"
"Light Sword! Light Sword! Light Sword!"
"Rimer, you angel of charity! We can't live without you!"
"Thank you!"
The greatest cheer yet erupted, and Wendy and the people of House Arian welled up with tears.
"Light Sword."
The Sword Demon approached Rimer and bowed his head slightly.
"Watching you run a gambling den, I thought it vulgar. I didn't realize you had such deep intentions. I apologize."
He smiled gently, as if seeing Rimer in a new light.
"That's our squad leader!"
"You're magnificent!"
"I thought he was a money-crazed bastard, but he'd planned all this!"
"From now on, I'll follow you in earnest!"
The Light Wind Squad, too, applauded Rimer with eyes full of respect.
"Ah..."
Rimer lowered the hands he had been using to stop the crowd.
I'm finished...
If he said that wasn't it here and now, he would take thousands of sword-stabs and die.
"I had been intending to donate from my own pocket, but thanks to you, squad leader, that's no longer necessary. Thank you."
Raon bowed his head with a sly smile.
"Why don't you give everyone a wave? You've stepped onto the flower path you wanted, haven't you?"
He waved first, as if telling Rimer to get on with it.
"You insane bastard! What kind of flower path is this?!"
"A p-path of flames..."
Rimer forced a smile and waved to the spectators. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
"You vicious son of a bitch..."
Wrath snickered as he watched Rimer wailing on the inside.
"The young king has become a vicious bastard."