Let the Sword Decide
Raon finished putting the garden back in order, made sure Sylvia, Helen, and all the maids were settled, then returned to his room. He had just changed out of his dirt-stained clothes when a low knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
Judiel opened the door, stepped inside, and bowed her head.
"Explain the situation."
"Yes. While I was tending the garden with Madam, Merkin, butler to Raden Zieghart, arrived. He claimed a letter had been sent announcing today's visit, and that we were to prepare…"
She reported everything she had witnessed with her own eyes, from Merkin's arrival through to Raden himself, without omitting a single word.
"…That was when Raden was about to stomp on Lady Helen, and you arrived, Young Master Raon."
Judiel finished speaking and bowed her head.
"Just as I thought."
Raon nodded. Listening to her account, the situation was almost exactly as he had expected.
"However, Young Master Raon."
Judiel lifted her head and called his name.
"What is it?"
"It may be a little absurd coming from me, but you should not have stepped forward today. Raden and his father, Balder Zieghart, are men who never think about what comes after."
Her expression hardened like tree bark.
"They will come after the Annex and after you in any number of ways. Even if Raden started the trouble, they are direct line and we are collateral. Which side the family will take is obvious."
Raon watched her in silence until she had finished.
"If you think I've overstepped…"
"No."
He shook his head.
"I'm grateful to you."
"Pardon?"
"You tried to take Raden's kick in Helen and Mother's place."
When Raden had lifted his foot, Judiel had quietly positioned herself right beside Sylvia and Helen, angling her body into the path of the blow. It had been an attempt to take the hit herself. Even she had been surprised that she had done it.
"That was… I didn't even realize…"
Judiel flushed and lowered her head. A spy who'd grown attached—even she found it ridiculous.
But still…
The only people in all of Zieghart who had treated her as a human being were the residents of this Annex—the smallest, most forgotten corner of the estate. Growing a little fond of them was only natural. Of course, Raon still terrified her.
"You're right. It would have been best not to take their bait. But it's already done. I have ways to prepare, so you don't need to worry."
"…Understood."
When Raon told her not to worry, the tightness that had been sitting in her chest like indigestion seemed to stir loose, as if a fork had been run through it. His voice carried that much trust. There was one thing that still bothered her, though.
This is a problem.
She seemed to have grown far more attached to the people of the Annex than she had realized.
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Get me information on Raden and Balder. Their personalities, their records to date."
"Understood."
She bowed and left the room.
"Hrm."
Raon clicked his tongue, staring at the closed door.
Unexpected.
Judiel felt fear and suspicion toward him, and affection toward the people of the Annex. Those contradictory feelings were so tangled that she didn't seem to understand her own heart.
If he kept her at the Annex and continued to treat her with consideration, winning her true loyalty wouldn't be difficult. In truth, after watching her try to protect Sylvia and Helen today, he felt a little guilty about continuing to lie to her.
"But that's not what matters right now."
Raon raised a tightly clenched fist. He had never intended to attack Raden from the start. He had expected something like this to happen, and his plan had been to grasp the exact situation first, then crush the man with words.
But the moment Sylvia and Helen were about to be struck, his mind had gone white, and all he could see was that bastard's face.
Rage…
That was it. Uncontrollable fury had boiled up, and he hadn't been able to govern his emotions. The strange part was that even in that state, everything related to combat had been calmer than ever. It was a curious feeling in more ways than one.
"A strange emotion, as if rage and reason had fused together."
That was the most fitting description of the state he had been in.
"You understand it well."
Wrath burst out of the bracelet, his voice bright with excitement.
"So it was you."
"What are you talking about?"
"The moment I couldn't control my rage."
"No, no. That was your own doing."
Wrath grinned from within a blaze of cold.
"What?"
"The emotions of This King that you accepted are what moved."
"But ordinarily…"
"Are you always raving mad with rage?"
"Of course not."
"This King's emotions are the same. They lie quiet most of the time, then, the instant you become angry, they burrow into your feelings and try to seize the reins."
"Damn it…"
Raon bit his lip. The bargain with that self-proclaimed king was more dangerous than he had thought. He vowed never to accept the creature's emotions again.
"Do you truly think you can keep that vow?"
Wrath smiled, as if he had read the thought.
"Humans are weak in any number of ways. That includes you, whom This King considers rather special."
"What are you trying to say?"
"A god who grants wishes sits right beside you, and you claim you will never ask that god for anything? Laughable. Whether for your own sake or for some other human's, you will come to This King with a bargain. And in the end…"
He left the sentence unfinished and laughed, but the last words needed no saying.
"I will never hand this body over to you."
"This King can already see it. A future in which you offer that body of yours yourself. It's already too late."
"Hah…"
Raon exhaled and set the Ring of Fire turning. His mind cleared as if cool water were flowing through his veins. The real danger was not Wrath clinging to him and stoking his rage—it was letting his own emotions run hot. No matter the situation, he had to keep his composure.
"Hmph."
Once Raon had steadied his feelings with the Ring of Fire, Wrath muttered that it was no fun anymore and slipped back into the bracelet.
The Ring of Fire is what matters most.
What could stop that creature was not a sword or a spear, but the Ring of Fire. He needed to raise his achievement in it as quickly as possible.
He was still tempering the Ring of Fire through the night when another knock sounded at the door.
"The information on Balder and Raden that you asked for."
He opened the door, and Judiel held out a thin sheaf of papers. The ink had not yet dried. She had compiled the material herself.
"Well done."
"Yes. Then…"
Judiel bowed and left.
Raon sat down and read the documents she had given him from beginning to end.
This is better than I expected…
He found himself impressed. For something assembled on the spot, Judiel's report had a surprisingly solid structure. Raden and Balder's temperaments, their personalities—everything he needed on them right now had been laid out in order.
"She'll be useful."
Even setting aside her role as a double agent, Judiel would be a considerable help as an informant.
Raon kept the Ring of Fire turning as he read her materials again and again. Night sank away, and when the sun rose once more, a third knock sounded at the door.
He opened it to find Sylvia, her eyes trembling with alarm, and Roen, Glenn's butler, standing together.
"R-Raon."
"Young Master. Forgive the intrusion at this early hour."
Unlike usual, Roen bowed with a cold expression.
"The Patriarch has summoned you."
Raon forcibly left Sylvia behind—she had insisted on following him all the way—and headed for the Lord's Palace.
"Young Master."
When they reached the foot of the stairs, Roen turned. He looked at Raon with a question in his eyes.
"You know why the Patriarch has called for you. Are you not uneasy?"
"I know the reason, of course. But I wouldn't say I'm particularly uneasy."
Raon shook his head, his gaze even.
"Is that so."
Roen smiled faintly and entered the Lord's Palace. It might have been his imagination, but the butler seemed satisfied with the answer.
The atmosphere inside, as Raon followed him in, was heavier than usual. It felt as if gravity in this space alone had doubled. Raon breathed the way he did in meditation, slow and measured, and the weight pressing on his shoulders eased a little.
Swordsmen and servants sent him looks that could not be summed up in a single word. He received those gazes with composure and came to a halt before the Audience Chamber.
"It is not only the Patriarch waiting inside. They are in there as well. Are you prepared?"
Raon nodded calmly at Roen's question.
"I will open it."
Roen glanced at the door guards, and the doors of the Audience Chamber began to part.
Beneath the brilliantly shining lights of the Audience Chamber, three people waited. Glenn Zieghart sat upon the throne on the dais, radiating an overwhelming presence, and below him stood two men: Raden Zieghart and his father, Balder Zieghart.
Unlike Raden, Balder had a bearlike build and broad, heavy shoulders. If Raon had not known their names, he would never have guessed they were father and son. The sly cast of the eyes, however, was the same.
Raden glared at him as if he wanted him dead. Balder wrinkled his face as though he had spotted an insect.
"I greet the Clan Head."
Raon ignored both of their stares, walked to the center, and dropped to one knee.
"Rise."
"Yes."
The voice was so cold it might have been sheathed in ice, and his legs nearly gave out—but he clenched his teeth and stood. He took one step back, aligned himself with Balder and Raden, and looked up at Glenn.
"I hear there was an unsavory incident yesterday."
Glenn took his weight off the right arm he had been leaning on and looked down at all of them with indifferent eyes.
"Clan Head! Allow me to speak!"
Raden stepped forward and dropped to his knees.
"Speak."
"Yes!"
At Glenn's permission, Raden glanced back at Raon and smirked.
"After a long time away, I returned to the family to find rumors about Raon spreading everywhere. We'd crossed paths a few times, but we'd never properly spoken, so I sent a letter to the Annex in advance. I went on the appointed day, but nothing had been prepared. On the contrary, the garden had been torn up as if they were issuing a ban on visitors."
Raden wrinkled the bridge of his nose at length, the picture of a man who had suffered a genuine injustice.
"Out of disappointment I raised my voice a little, and the Annex maids started arguing with me. Just as things were getting louder, Raon appeared and swung his sword at me without a word. It wasn't a warning or a threat—it was a blade wrapped in killing intent, meant to end my life. I kept controlling my strength and only defended, but he kept drawing his sword at my throat until the end."
To anyone who didn't know better, Raden's voice was so convincing they would have believed he truly had been wronged.
"Raon Zieghart."
Glenn listened to Raden's emotion-laden account without the slightest change in expression. He called Raon's name in the same voice as before.
"Yes."
"Is what he said the truth?"
"It is not."
Raon shook his head, his gaze calm.
"Not a single word of that is true, from start to finish. The part about controlling his strength is especially laughable. I can still picture his face, beet-red, screaming his head off."
"You little shit!"
Raden grabbed his shoulder, but Raon did not look back.
"Young Master Raden."
Roen, who had been standing off to the left, turned a gaze as cold as a drawn blade.
"Have you forgotten whose presence you stand in?"
"Kh…"
Raden swallowed dryly and took his hand off Raon's shoulder.
"If the two of you cannot agree, then we shall call a witness who saw everything."
Glenn looked from Raden to Raon and flicked his fingers. With a dull thud, a figure in black descended before Raon's eyes.
"Rakeil of the Heavenly Sword Squad. I greet the Clan Head!"
"Report what happened yesterday."
"Yes!"
The Heavenly Sword Squad swordsman who gave his name as Rakeil was the man who had blocked Raon's blade the day before. He nodded, rose, and began to speak.
"Young Master Raden claimed he had sent a letter, but no such letter ever arrived at the Annex. Lady Sylvia and the maids were tending the garden as they always do…"
Raon narrowed his eyes. Contrary to his expectations, Rakeil laid out the facts with complete accuracy, without a trace of falsehood.
"Raden Zieghart."
Having heard Rakeil's account in full, Glenn frowned.
"Y-yes, yes!"
Raden trembled and drove his forehead into the floor.
"That is rather different from what you told me."
"Th-that's…"
"Father."
While Raden stammered, his jaw shaking too hard to form words, Balder—who had only been watching until now—stepped forward with a scowl.
"That isn't what matters right now. A collateral drawing a sword on a member of the direct line is the real problem in this affair. Does that not shake the very hierarchy of the family?"
"Th-that's right! That bastard swung his sword at me like he wanted me dead!"
Having found a way out, Raden nodded furiously.
"A fair point. A collateral raising a blade against the direct line is not something that ends with a scolding for poor manners. That said."
Glenn nodded and rose from the throne. His presence exploded, as if a giant were stretching its limbs.
"What do you believe is the difference between the direct line and the collateral line?"
"Pardon? Th-that's…"
"Responsibility. As the true masters of Zieghart, the direct line must bear the duties that come with that title."
A pale yellow current bloomed from his shoulders, and the entire Lord's Palace began to tremble.
"In every action, in every word, you must carry the awareness that you are a master of Zieghart. The same applies when you toy with the collateral line, or mock them. If you mean to do it, do it thoroughly. Crush them completely. And yet you had your life threatened by a member of the collateral line—and a child younger than you, at that."
"Th-that's not true. If I had put my mind to it, Raon's neck would already be without an owner!"
"If you've had your life saved twice thanks to someone else, have the shame to shut your mouth."
"Khh…"
Glenn's gaze was so cold it raised gooseflesh. Raden clenched his teeth.
"Raon Zieghart."
"Yes."
"You, too, seem unaware of your place. You are collateral. In a different sense, you must be careful of your conduct. Drawing a sword on a member of the direct line who has earned the qualifications of a swordsman—it is the image of a raised dog biting its master. When you are treated unjustly, you are not to settle it yourself. You should have reported it to the Main House."
"I apologize."
Raon lowered his eyes and bowed his head.
"Both of you were at fault, so I will impose a fitting punishment on each."
"Father! Punishment? That bastard cannot be left alive. Sooner or later he will bare his fangs at the direct line! He should be executed at once!"
Balder Zieghart surged forward again. He jabbed a finger at Raon and raised his voice.
"Enough."
"If this incident is simply let go, the order between direct and collateral will collapse, and the family's prestige…"
"Balder. I believe I told you to be silent."
"Kh!"
Glenn's voice pressed down on the space itself, and Balder's massive frame seemed to crumple for an instant.
"Clan Head."
In an atmosphere that felt as if it were squeezing his heart, Raon lifted his head and looked up at Glenn. He bowed and called to him.
"What is it?"
"I will accept any punishment gladly. But before that, there is something I must do."
"Something you must do?"
"Yes. Raden Zieghart insulted my mother and used violence against the maids. I have not yet extracted the price from him."
"You insane bastard! I feel the same! I still can't forget you swinging that sword with those blood-red eyes! One way or another, I will take your head!"
"Raon Zieghart. Raden Zieghart."
Glenn spoke both their names, and his gaze sank. A pressure poured off him as if it would crush their entire bodies.
"I believe I just told you to know your place."
"Th-that is precisely why."
Raon clenched his teeth until they ground and forced his bending waist straight.
"The Clan Head once said that this is the land of swordsmen. I believe that a warrior should determine his worth with the sword."
Raon's voice, dense with unyielding will, rang through the Lord's Palace.