The Watcher's Gaze
Two days later, at dawn.
Rimer stood upon the training ground's platform before the sun had even risen. The trainees looked up at him, tension and anticipation mingling in their eyes.
"I'll say this one last time. Outside the family, anything can happen. Doubt everything, then doubt it again. If it feels like too much, don't even look back—just fall back."
"Yes, sir!"
His gaze settled on Raon, standing at the very front of the trainees. Raon nodded, his expression unreadable.
"Then set out. It would normally take a month, but we've opened the Grand Highway, so you should arrive in two weeks. May fortune favor your blades."
"Thank you."
Rimer clapped his hands the way he always did at the start of training. The trainees bowed to him and the instructors, then turned on their heels.
"Form up in four columns. Move according to the battle pairs assigned this morning."
At Raon's command, the trainees moved as one.
"Huh."
Rimer let out a dry laugh at the sight.
He formed battle pairs?
Even as the top trainee, he was still just a boy in his teens. To have planned battle pairs while carrying the tension of heading out on a mission without instructors—that composure was astonishing.
He never stops surprising me.
Watching Raon, there was never a dull moment. The boy always gave you something to look forward to.
The most shocking was the Nine Flower Pill.
When he'd seen Raon after consuming the Nine Flower Pill he'd won for defeating Marta, his jaw had dropped of its own accord.
I never imagined he'd absorb every last bit of it.
When you took an elixir, some of its energy was inevitably wasted. The proper way was to have someone help you minimize that loss—but Raon had taken in every last drop of the elixir's power on his own. A monster, in more ways than one.
He'll do just fine.
Raon possessed talent not only in martial power and aura, but in his senses as well. He'd proven that in the clash with the Sixth Training Ground. He would finish this mission without much trouble and come back.
"We're ready."
Having finished forming ranks, Raon approached Rimer. His eyes were still and settled. No anticipation. No tension.
This is a fifteen-year-old...
Rimer felt goosebumps rise along his arms as he nodded.
"Move out."
"Move out."
Raon answered in a low voice and led the trainees from the training ground.
Rimer watched the backs of the trainees he'd raised for three years for a long while.
Once they had all vanished from sight, the instructors approached him.
"Head Instructor. Shouldn't we be following them now?"
"No."
Rimer shook his head. He laced his fingers behind his skull and yawned.
"There's a kid with senses like a ghost. I'll catch some sleep first, then go."
He walked off toward the head instructor's office just like that.
"Huh..."
"I-is that all right?"
"Shouldn't we go after them right now?"
Worried voices rose from the instructors behind him, but Rimer just smiled, pretending not to hear.
Worrying about those kids is a waste. Worry about the orcs instead.
Raon walked at the head of the column and glanced back. Forty-two trainees moved in four columns, but they were split into three factions.
First was the collateral-line faction centered on Burren Zieghart. The collaterals followed Burren as if he were their lord.
Second was the vassal-family faction that stood opposed to the collaterals. However, Runaan—who ought to have been their center—was stuck to Raon's side like glue, leaving their position a little ambiguous.
Third were the commoner recommendation students. Having received his help during their time as temporary trainees, they still followed him to this day.
And last, the exception who belonged to none of them: Marta.
Raon swept his gaze across the trainees' faces, then lowered his eyes.
Truthfully, he had thought it didn't matter what they did or what became of them.
He was a trainee, and he belonged to Zieghart, but he had never considered himself one of them. His plan had been to raise Sylvia above the direct line, then leave.
But.
Through the duel with the Owen Kingdom, the first mission, and the battle with the Sixth Training Ground, he had come to understand, just a little, that that wasn't everything.
Sharing the same purpose, spending so much time together—he had grown attached, if only a little.
Mother's words weigh on me, too.
Sylvia's voice, asking him to show the bearing of a Zieghart swordsman of old as the top trainee, was still lodged in his chest.
This is hard.
Was it because he had lived as an assassin? Looking after allies was far more difficult than killing and tearing down enemies.
"We'll rest here for a moment."
Raon stopped before a massive tree so vast that five grown men couldn't encircle it even with their arms outstretched. The trainees sat down, leaning their backs against the trunk.
"I have something to say."
He stood before them as they pulled out water and caught their breath.
"Some of you may dislike me, but right now, I am your top trainee."
At that calm statement of fact, some clenched their fists, some nodded, and some showed no reaction at all.
"I know there are those among you who didn't take a monster subjugation mission seriously, or who came out as if this were a picnic. Your feelings are your own, but if you go in with that kind of playful attitude, you—or the comrade behind you—will end up a casualty."
"Mm..."
The trainees who really had thought that way ducked their heads, looking ashamed.
"As the Head Instructor said, anything can happen during a mission. Don't move on your own. Follow my orders."
"Mm."
"Yes, sir!"
Runaan and the recommendation students answered loudly, while Marta and the vassal-family trainees nodded.
The collateral trainees stayed quiet, watching Burren's reaction.
"Of course."
Burren rose, dumping water over his own head.
"I said it when the duel with the Sixth Training Ground ended, too. I've acknowledged you as the top trainee. If the order is just, I'll charge even into a place of death. But if it's something that would stain the name of Zieghart, I will not follow your command."
"And what do you consider worthy of Zieghart?"
"Knowing honor as a swordsman. Aiding the weak, standing tall before the strong, and training so that you never show a shameful face."
Raon looked into Burren's eyes without a word.
"I know. I haven't forgotten that I picked fights with you out of jealousy, that I refused the judgment and stained Zieghart's name. It's because I know that that I'm saying this now. From here on, I will never show a shameful face again."
Burren struck his chest with a tightly clenched fist. His green eyes burned fiercely. It was as if you could see his will itself.
He's really changed a lot.
To confess his own faults in front of all these people and even make a vow. It wasn't the kind of thing you'd expect from a fifteen-year-old boy.
"Then I understand."
Raon nodded. If Burren had changed this much, he seemed worth trusting. He tucked his water back into his pack and turned.
"We move again."
Burren watched Raon cutting through the snow ahead of them. A small back. He'd recovered his health enough to look his age, but compared to Burren and the other trainees, his frame was still slight.
And yet...
The size of the vessel within him couldn't even be compared to the other trainees.
Observing him throughout the march to complete the mission, Burren had come to a bone-deep realization. The patience Raon had shown during training had been nothing.
Raon did not tire. No—even if he did, he never let it show.
The trainees floundered in the cold and fatigue, but he was always calm, always at ease. Thanks to that, the tension in the trainees behind him eased, and they expended far less stamina.
If that guy had set out alone, he might have arrived a long time ago...
It wasn't an idle thought.
Even as the top trainee, Raon always took a watch. He was the only one who never dozed off.
His martial power's gotten stronger too, no doubt.
It had been half a year since he'd beaten Kane, a direct-line descendant two years his senior. He would have progressed further by now. He might have reached the upper ranks of Sword User, or even the peak.
Honestly, all Burren could think was that winning was becoming more and more impossible.
But I won't give up.
He still hadn't put in effort on Raon's level, and giving up because you had a rival wasn't the Zieghart way.
Burren gripped the hilt of his real sword tight.
Thanks to Raon, he'd come to his senses. If only to repay that, he would catch up to him.
Wait for me, Raon Zieghart.
Roofs of every hue blended together with quiet elegance, as if a peacock's feathers had been scattered on the wind. The Rainbow Ring Roofs, pride of Sephia Village.
Arriving near Sephia Village after two weeks, Raon and the trainees stood on a hill looking down at the settlement.
"There it is."
"Finally..."
"Whew, we can sleep indoors now."
The trainees, worn out from camping in the open, smiled as they kneaded their shoulders and lower backs.
"Sephia Village..."
It was his first time here, but he'd done a little research for the mission. A small village with no specialties or tourist attractions, where a handful of people lived by farming.
Monsters came down from the mountains every few years, so it wasn't a particularly special mission. Indeed, a wooden palisade had been erected around the village to keep monsters out.
"We're going down."
Raon surveyed the village and the surrounding mountains as a whole, then nodded.
"Yes, sir!"
The trainees tightened their packs and followed Raon down the mountain, bringing up the rear.
Hm?
Raon narrowed his eyes into crescent moons and dipped his head slightly.
What is that?
A chilling sensation slid down his back. The same sensation he'd felt every day during his assassin training. A human gaze.
An instructor? No.
It was different from an instructor's gaze, observing them while already knowing who they were. This was a chilling sensation that raked over every last detail.
No one else notices.
The trainees' faces were stiff with the tension of fighting monsters. Burren, Marta, and Runaan showed no sign of having felt anything either.
I suppose that's natural.
The sensation was so faint that even he wouldn't have noticed it if not for the years he'd lived as an assassin. It would have been stranger if the trainees had picked up on it.
Keeping his head down, he rolled his eyes. His aura and senses were still too weak to pinpoint the location.
This isn't good.
He couldn't tell whether this was a test from the family or some other threat. In a situation like this, hiding himself was the best option.
Raon said nothing and continued down the mountain. As he deliberately slowed his pace, the sensation of something tracing along his neck began to recede.
It seemed the watcher was fleeing back to their base to report. This was his chance.
A thin membrane of aura hummed into being, sealing any sound from escaping, and he turned.
"Burren."
"What is it?"
Burren lifted his head, tension hidden beneath a composed expression.
"For this mission, you'll be the top trainee. You'll give the orders."
"What are you talking about all of a sudden..."
"During the first mission, only Runaan and I took action. This time, I want the rest of you to take the lead and show what you can do. Prove those words you said not long ago."
"Those words..."
"That you'd show the bearing of a Zieghart swordsman."
"Mm..."
Burren bit his lip. From his furrowed brow, he was taking Raon's words with full weight.
The trainees walked in silence, but every ear and every gaze was locked on Raon and Burren.
"Very well."
Burren nodded slowly. The hesitation vanished from his eyes.
"I'll show you I've changed, without a doubt. Let's go!"
"Yes, sir!"
He picked up his pace with a ringing shout. Strength filled the steps of the collaterals who followed him.
"You all heard that."
"Understood."
The trainees who normally followed Raon nodded at once.
"Runaan."
"Mm."
Runaan understood immediately and looked to the vassal-family trainees who followed her.
"Mm..."
"Understood."
The vassal families didn't seem pleased that Burren was being given authority; they frowned, but in the end they nodded.
"Marta. I'll explain the reason later, so for now, treat Burren as the top trainee."
Last, he looked at Marta, right beside him. She closed her eyes with a cold expression, then opened them.
"You don't need to say that. I already told you I'd follow your orders. All you have to do is show me the results."
Leaving those words behind, Marta walked toward Burren.
Have those little brats started to change a bit?
Wrath let out a low voice, as if something about it didn't sit well with him.
Insolent whelps!
As expected of a personality wreck who flew into a rage at everything.
You can feel the one watching us from nearby, right?
You noticed that? Well, you did take This King's trait, so if you hadn't noticed you'd have to bite your tongue and die.
Where is he? How many of them are there?
Does This King look like he'd tell you that bastard's location?
So it's one person.
Huh?
You can't lie to save your life. If you said "that bastard," then it's one person.
Y-you little...!
Wrath trembled, seething with rage.
Even so, there's still a problem...
The watcher was one person, but including that person's comrades, there was no telling how many there might be. He couldn't let his guard down until the end.
"Hmm..."
Raon clicked his tongue as the palisade of Sephia Village came into view.
This mission doesn't feel like it's going to be easy.