The First Sacrifice of Ten Flames

The Green Warfiend had stopped thinking of Raon as a child from the moment the ambush landed.

The boy could erase his presence until he seemed a wild animal, and his sword strikes held not a shred of hesitation.

An assassin. And a top-tier one at that.

Had he not given the name Zieghart, this monster would have been taken for an assassin without a second thought.

But the ambush had only half-succeeded, and the Warfiend still had the Orc Warrior's vitality. He burned Battle Qi and life force alike, bracing for the next attack. His opponent, too, seemed to have poured too much into the ambush to move at once.

In the time he'd bought, he staunched the bleeding in his shoulder with Battle Qi and drew his strength back up.

It's over.

He'd lost the arm at the shoulder, but he'd weathered one blow. Beating the boy shouldn't be difficult. The kid had been raised as an assassin—he'd be weak in a head-on fight. That was the assumption.

He wound Battle Qi around his axe and brought it down, meaning to split the boy like firewood. The boy deflected the strike as if it were nothing.

Not just ambushes—he's skilled at this too? At that age?

It didn't make sense. Even for a Zieghart, a child that young following an ambush with a deflection like that was impossible.

This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one's no ordinary brat.

A nameless unease stirring in him, the Green Warfiend kept bringing his axe down on Raon. The boy blocked what needed blocking, dodged what needed dodging, and turned aside every last blow. It didn't feel like fighting a child. It felt like crossing blades with a swordsman who had seen every battlefield under the sun.

Still…

The Green Warfiend had the Orc Warrior's sense of smell as well. So long as he could read the weaknesses and gaps in an opponent's swordsmanship and hunt them down, defeat was impossible.

Got it.

He'd read every last one of the child's sword strikes. He brought the axe down on that weakness.

The crash of sword and axe rang out, clean and satisfying. A gratifying impact in the hands. All that remained was to take the boy's head.

He swept the axe toward the staggering boy, already picturing blood spraying from that neck—when the boy's sword bent in at an angle he had never seen.

The power packed into that blow, and a single instant of carelessness. The axe was driven back, and his stance crumbled.

"Ghk!"

He tried to recover—but the boy was already inside. The sword came down, splitting through the aura of Battle Qi.

The wet sound of flesh tearing—chest and ribs splitting apart—filled his ears, and a vicious pain followed.

"Ghhhk!"

The Green Warfiend coughed blood and clutched his chest with his one remaining hand.

"You… how the hell…"

"Just as you read my swordsmanship, I read the way you attack."

"Th-that doesn't even make sense…"

"Why not? Anything you can do, I can do too."

He swallowed dryly. The faint scent of danger that had been rising grew thicker, more acrid. Talent he had never seen even among countless prodigies. A premonition struck him: if this one grew any stronger, he would become Eden's greatest enemy.

By any means necessary…

He had to kill him.

He burned every last scrap of Battle Qi and vitality, wrapping it around the axe. The twin blades of the double-headed axe blazed as if they had been dipped in fire.

"KRAAAAAH!"

In the instant he brought the axe down to erase the one called Raon and the Ziegharts behind him—

A crack. The boy's pupils ignited, burning scarlet.

"Ah…"

The moment he saw those flames, his heart clenched tight. The wound in his chest that he had already staunched burst open again.

The boy leveled the flame-wreathed sword, his eyes flashing like a demon's.

Raon's eyes lit as he watched the fire wrapping the entire blade.

It worked.

He'd thought it was still beyond him, but the insight he'd gained in real combat had let him complete the Ten Flames. Power surged. Strength enough to cut down ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even a Green Warfiend at full capacity welled up along the blade.

"Ghh…"

The shock of the Green Warfiend before him bled straight through the helmet.

"What… what the hell are you? How, at that age…"

The astonishment had even overridden his Orc Warrior instincts—his voice had returned to something human.

"That's not what matters right now."

Raon spun the flame-wreathed sword and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠took a step.

"Come."

"Hhhk…"

White steam hissed from the Green Warfiend's helmet. He began concentrating every last shred of his power into the right arm that held the axe.

He kicked off the ground and tore through space. The double-headed axe came down as it was. Every ounce of power he possessed was packed into that blow.

The instant the axe reached his nose, Raon drove the sword he'd held back.

That fierce heat split the Warfiend's Battle Qi. Faced with the power of Flame Coil Wind—a sword art of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames that could only be used once ten flames had been reached—the Green Warfiend clenched his teeth.

"Not yet! I will, no matter what, match you—"

"No. It's already over."

Raon murmured it calmly and drew the blade through. The Battle Qi already torn apart could not withstand the fire of the Ten Flames. The silver blade, carrying those blossoms of flame, pierced the Green Warfiend's heart.

"Ghk—you, you Zieghar…"

The Green Warfiend never finished the words. He toppled backward.

The deep-green helmet and armor that had covered his face split in two and fell apart. Inside was a young man in his twenties, his features hard, eyes rolled back in death.

Raon extinguished the Ten Flames.

"Huu…"

Fatigue crashed over him all at once, and a ragged breath slipped out. His legs wanted to give way then and there, but he gritted his teeth and turned.

Shock, awe, relief, reverence—the gazes of the trainees and the villagers, each carrying a different emotion, pressed against him.

"You…"

"Raon."

"You little bastard, you really…"

Burren couldn't finish, his lips trembling. Runaan, more tense than anyone, had sunk to the ground. Marta's eyes gleamed as if she might charge him any second.

"It's not over yet."

Raon raised his sword and pointed at the dazed Green Fiends. They hadn't imagined for a second that the Green Warfiend could lose, and now they had no idea what to do.

"Wipe them all out!"

"WAAAAAH!"

Their spirits soaring to the heavens on Raon's victory, the trainees charged the Green Fiends that still ringed the battlefield.

It really is incredible.

The true effect of the Ring of Fire showed itself not only before and during battle, but after. The aura he'd spent came flooding back, and the lactic acid packed into his muscles melted away. It even held back the cold that had been about to run wild inside his mana circuits. In every way, it was the finest cultivation art.

This is funny, too, in its way.

In his previous life, he'd obtained the Ring of Fire while fleeing after clashing with this very Eden. Funny, if you wanted to call it that. Funny—and they were also the ones who'd taken his father and sister's lives.

"YAAAAAH!"

"Cut down every last Green Fiend!"

"End this fight!"

With Raon standing there, staring them down, the Green Fiends dared neither to charge nor to flee. They simply offered their necks to the trainees.

The battle was over in less than ten minutes. The only people left before the palisade were the trainees.

"Raon."

Runaan, having cut down the last Green Fiend, ran up and grabbed his shoulder. In her own way, it seemed to mean well done.

"Raon Zieghart."

Burren approached next.

"Huu. You… you were right. The enemy was strong, and we were weak. I got drunk on a single victory and went blind. I'm sorry."

He bit down hard on his lip and bowed at the waist—deep enough it could have been taken for submission.

"If it hadn't been for you, it wouldn't have been just us. The villagers we were supposed to protect would have died too. Thank you. And I'm sorry. But…"

Burren lifted his head and continued.

"I still would have gone. Even if I didn't have the strength, looking the other way at injustice isn't what a Zieghart swordsman should be."

"You did well."

Raon nodded, looking into Burren's green eyes.

"What?"

"Because all of you fought with everything you had, I was able to find an opening in the Green Warfiend. You had a big part in this victory."

"Wh-what are you after? What do you want from me?"

Caught off guard by praise he hadn't expected, Burren tensed, his fingers trembling.

"I mean it."

"Mm. N-next time it won't go like this."

Burren muttered with his head bowed low.

"I'll grow strong enough to catch up to the you of the future, and I'll do my part properly!"

He bowed his head once more. It was a greeting that held both gratitude for having his life saved and gratitude for the lesson he'd been given.

"Thank you for saving my life, and everyone's."

With that, Burren went into the village with the collateral-line trainees. He seemed ready to start rebuilding the palisade immediately.

Even in a situation like this, thinking of the village—he really was the kind of talent suited to lead.

"Marta."

Raon called to Marta, who stood with her arms crossed, unmoving.

"Good work. Because you played your part, we were able to take the fight on our terms."

If she hadn't held the Green Warfiend's attention to the end, the ambush would have failed, and the fight with him would have been far uglier. She'd done more than what she'd been told.

"If I can't even do what I'm told, I might as well bite my tongue and die."

Marta's mouth twitched, then she whipped her head around and went into the village. For all her words, the praise seemed to have pleased her.

"Haa…"

Raon let out a breath. Maybe because the tension had fully drained away, his legs gave out regardless of the fatigue in his body.

The moment he started to fall backward, a soft sensation caught him from behind. He turned—Runaan was holding him up.

"You looked like you were going to collapse."

She gave a small nod.

"How did you know?"

"It was the same as after training."

Runaan closed her mouth and nodded her chin.

"I see."

It seemed that just as he'd been watching them, they'd been watching him just as closely.

Raon gave a short laugh and sat down. He'd been wound so tight for so long that sleep came crashing in.

A few messages floated up before his eyes, but he didn't have the energy to look. He closed his eyes as they were and sank into sleep.