TRAIGS - Chapter 755

“You’ve already taken down two Grandmasters?”

Martha frowned as she looked up at Raon, standing on the top viewing platform.

“That annoying monster.”

Like her, Raon hadn’t swung his sword even once over the past two months, yet he seemed to have grown much stronger.

It was absurd—and infuriatingly enviable. The heat from her rising frustration made her forehead throb.

“That’s just Raon Zieghart being Raon Zieghart.”

Burren snorted, as if it were only natural for him.

“Yeah. He’s always amazing.”

Runaan nodded as if nothing about the situation was unusual.

“Let’s leave our leader to his fun and take care of these guys first, shall we?”

Krein pointed toward the oncoming wave of Tugui’s subordinates, unconcerned.

“T-They’re over there too.”

Dorian’s trembling hand pointed to the demons of the Black Tower wielding dark energy and the White Demon Division preparing their swords.

“There are too many of them…”

“It’s fine.”

Burren stepped forward, drawing his sword.

“We’re not going to lose.”

Exuding a confidence beyond mere belief, he stirred up a powerful wind.

“There’s no group formation today! Believe in the time and effort you’ve each put in!”

Burren roared for everyone to smash through individually, then charged forward first.

Whooosh!

The wind swirling at the tip of his sword solidified, slicing Tugui’s subordinates clean in half.

“Mm.”

Runaan nodded and drove her sword into the ground. Silver frost surged up, freezing the feet of the demons and swordsmen.

“That’s great!”

Martha smiled with satisfaction as she advanced. She stopped in front of the arena manager, Beroun, who had been giving orders to Tugui’s subordinates.

“You’re the strongest one here, right? Beroun.”

Beroun, the manager and host of the arena, was a butcher who had earned the moniker ‘Hosal Sword’ after massacring countless knights.

He possessed the strongest aura among the Black Tower demons and Holy Sword Alliance swordsmen, making him the perfect opponent.

“Maran…”

Beroun frowned as he stared at Martha.

“It’s not Maran. It’s Martha.”

She corrected him, spinning the hilt of her sword in her hand.

“So you’re the Rakshasa of the Light Wind Division…”

Beroun narrowed his eyes knowingly.

“Don’t call me that.”

Martha huffed disapprovingly.

“I treated you so well, and this is how you repay me? You ungrateful brat…”

“Well?”

Martha tilted her chin up and sneered.

“You call feeding me madness-inducing poison ‘treating me well’?”

“T-That was…”

“Enough talk.”

She flicked her hand dismissively.

“You’re a top-tier Master, aren’t you?”

Martha licked her lips, pointing her sword at Beroun.

“Come at me. I’ll take you down and take your place.”

“Zieghart brats are all so arrogant.”

Beroun ground his teeth and stomped forward. His thick longsword descended as though to crush Martha’s head.

“I’ve always been arrogant—this has nothing to do with Zieghart!”

Martha bent her knees forward, swinging her sword upward to meet him.

Boom!

Their swords clashed mid-air, sending out shockwaves that seemed to tear the space around them.

Crackle!

Martha’s lips tightened as she struggled to withstand Beroun’s oppressive strength.

‘He’s strong.’

He surpassed her in aura, swordsmanship, and experience. If she lost focus for even a moment, she’d be trampled like a weed underfoot.

“You’ll regret this. You—”

“Regret? What nonsense.”

Martha smirked, baring her teeth.

“Fighting you is worth it because you’re strong.”

Raon had taught her that there was no meaning in fighting someone weaker. To climb higher and farther, one had to risk their life against stronger opponents.

Thud!

Martha stepped forward with all her might, adding more power to her strike. Even if she lacked aura or experience, her will to win would not falter.

Clang!

As if her determination had lent her strength, Martha’s sword pushed back Beroun’s blade, reclaiming her footing.

“W-What is this…?”

Beroun’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Fine! I’ll break you into pieces!”

Enraged, he unleashed even faster and stronger strikes, pressing down on Martha with overwhelming force.

Boom!

Beroun’s strikes grew more ferocious, but Martha refused to retreat, meeting him head-on every time.

Rumble!

Though she staggered under the difference in strength and aura, she never fell.

“This is pointless.”

Beroun smirked as he watched Martha stubbornly resist.

“You’ll collapse eventually—huh?”

His sneer vanished as his eyes widened in shock.

Crackle!

What had been a light and flimsy strike suddenly gained weight, as though Martha’s blade had turned to stone.

Thud!

She no longer budged, holding her ground and bearing the full weight of his attack.

“What the…?”

Beroun let out a hollow breath as he witnessed Martha’s now unshakable strikes.

“Now I get it.”

Martha grinned, her trembling sword now steady.

“So this is what you meant.”

During their spars, Raon had advised her to find the proper center of gravity for her sword.

Even in the arena, she hadn’t stopped thinking about it—and now, that effort had transformed into realization.

“Die!”

Sensing Martha’s change, Beroun unleashed a desperate strike, pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into it.

“You die first!”

But Martha had already entered the realm of enlightenment.

Boom!

Stomping her foot, she channeled the full weight of her body—from her thighs and waist to her wrists—into a powerful wave along her blade.

Crack!

Martha’s sword, now imbued with the essence of a true ‘Heavy Sword’, tore apart Beroun’s strike with overwhelming force.

“Urgh…”

A deep gash split Beroun’s chest, blood gushing like a fountain.

“It’s… It’s not over yet! Not yet!”

Even with fatal wounds, Beroun gathered the last of his aura, refusing to die.

“No. It’s over.”

Martha’s calm eyes glinted as she swung her sword downward.

Snap!

Beroun’s sword shattered, and his neck split open.

“Ugh…”

Beroun stared blankly into the void, unable to believe his death, before collapsing lifelessly.

“Huff…”

Martha bent over, panting heavily.

‘This is hard.’

Even with her small realization, applying it in battle was incredibly challenging. Her body felt as heavy as a waterlogged sponge from the intense focus.

‘But I can’t just sit down.’

Despite the exhaustion, the thrill of having grown stronger made her want to keep fighting.

Now she understood why Raon wanted to take on all the Grandmasters himself.

“Next… huh?”

Martha’s mouth fell open as she searched for her next opponent.

Boom!

Burren tore through the deputy leader of the White Demon Division with his swordsmanship, while Runaan froze an advanced Master-level demon entirely, leaving no room for resistance.

The other Light Wind Division members were no different. The swordsmen, now Masters, demonstrated their overwhelming strength as they crushed their enemies.

Even without a formation, their sheer force was so dominant they could’ve been called monsters like Tugui.

“You jerks!”

Martha swallowed hard and charged at the remaining enemies.

“Leave some for me too!”

—

“Hey.”

Raon gestured with his finger toward the White Demon Swordmaster, who was staring down at the arena with narrowed eyes.

“This isn’t the time to worry about your subordinates, is it?”

“You don’t know your place.”

The White Demon Swordmaster bit his lip and raised his long sword.

“A fake swordsman who relies on ambushes isn’t worthy of facing me.”

He insulted Raon with a voice full of confidence in his own strength.

“Then prove it.”

Raon raised the divine sword high while keeping the demonic sword low, tilting his chin with a smirk.

Whoooom!

The White Demon Swordmaster clenched his teeth, and an explosive surge of aura erupted from his body, as if a volcano had exploded.

His already unnaturally long arms seemed to stretch even farther.

“Fine. I’ll kill you!”

As soon as he twisted his wrist, his sword was already at Raon’s throat. It was a combination of swift, deceptive, direct, and overwhelming swordsmanship.

‘I can see it… huh?’

When Raon moved to block with his divine sword, the trajectory of the White Demon Swordmaster’s blade suddenly shifted downward, aiming for his collarbone.

Clang!

Raon quickly raised the demonic sword to deflect it, barely succeeding.

‘As expected.’

Speed and precision weren’t the key.

‘The true essence lies in the unpredictability.’

Thanks to his unnaturally long arms and flexible wrists, the White Demon Swordmaster’s swordsmanship was as fluid as a floating blade technique, moving freely and unpredictably.

It was astonishing how he achieved such variation while still wielding the sword directly.

‘Focus.’

Raon clicked his tongue and locked eyes on the White Demon Swordmaster.

‘A new dish has appeared.’

Glenn had advised him to learn and adapt from an opponent’s swordsmanship.

This was an opportunity to grow by witnessing an entirely new realm of swordsmanship.

Whoooosh!

Raon resonated the ‘Ring of Fire’, his eyes absorbing every movement of the White Demon Swordmaster’s unpredictable strikes.

However, the speed and odd angles were too much to handle all at once, and Raon ended up taking hits—cuts on his arms and legs.

“Not bad.”

Despite the wounds, Raon grinned, his lips curling upward.

“Don’t act tough.”

The White Demon Swordmaster flicked the blood from his blade, raising his chin arrogantly.

“You can’t defeat me. I didn’t even show half my strength to that elf earlier.”

Since many battles remained, he hadn’t fought Rimmer seriously. But with Raon—the strongest opponent here—he could unleash his full power and crush him completely.

Screech!

The White Demon Swordmaster pressed his attack with ‘Flowing Blade Technique’, sword strikes filled with extreme flexibility and variation, pressing Raon relentlessly.

‘This will end soon.’

Raon struggled to grasp the technique, taking cuts to his forearms, thighs, and waist. If this continued, his body would be shredded like a rag.

‘If I defeat Raon Zieghart…’

The White Demon Swordmaster’s eyes gleamed as he envisioned his victory.

Currently, the Holy Sword Alliance was divided into two factions: those who followed the new leader, Rektor, and those who opposed him.

If he killed Raon and wiped out the Light Wind Division, it would weaken Rektor’s influence significantly.

‘I’ll finish him with no mistakes.’

Determined, he unleashed a barrage of sword techniques, his blade weaving like a kaleidoscope as it targeted Raon’s vitals.

Boom!

Just as he was about to land a decisive strike, Raon’s sword appeared from an impossible angle and blocked it.

“What?”

Thinking it was a fluke, he aimed for Raon’s wrist—but again, Raon blocked it effortlessly and even countered with a sharp strike.

Clang!

The sudden counterattack sent the White Demon Swordmaster staggering back five steps.

‘What’s going on?’

The techniques that had worked so easily earlier were now completely ineffective. He couldn’t understand it.

‘Did he adapt… in this short time?’

The ‘Flowing Blade Technique’ was complex and unpredictable—so much so that even the White Demon Swordmaster hadn’t mastered it fully.

Yet Raon had seen through it in such a short time?

“No! That’s impossible!”

Desperation and fury overtook his face as he charged again, his blade shifting through countless variations, targeting Raon’s vitals with vicious precision.

Whoosh!

Rather than retreating, Raon stepped into the oncoming attacks, unleashing a storm of fire and frost with his swords.

Clash!

Raon’s swords didn’t employ as many variations, but they tore through the White Demon Swordmaster’s sequences as if unraveling leaves caught in the wind.

“How…?”

The White Demon Swordmaster trembled, staring at Raon, who was completely unharmed.

“I learned a lot.”

Raon nodded calmly, his words sincere.

‘I didn’t expect this kind of variation to be possible.’

While he couldn’t mimic the White Demon Swordmaster’s swordsmanship directly, he could absorb its principles to elevate his own techniques.

“You…!”

The White Demon Swordmaster screamed, stomping hard as he unleashed a final, desperate strike. His blade multiplied like sunlight reflecting on water, an unstoppable flurry.

“You’ll have to pay for the lesson.”

Raon crossed the divine sword and the demonic sword diagonally.

A subtle glow of cherry blossoms rose from the crimson blade, while a delicate frost flower bloomed on the blue one, unleashing a majestic brilliance.

‘Divine-Demonic Harmony – Twin Petals.’

The petals of fire and ice scattered in a storm, shattering the White Demon Swordmaster’s swordsmanship and engulfing his entire body.

“Aaaaagh!”

The White Demon Swordmaster screamed as he swung wildly, but the two elemental storms refused to fade.

Swoosh!

Raon unleashed the combined power of the divine and demonic swords. The ‘Divine-Demonic Harmony’ split the storm and surged toward the White Demon Swordmaster, tearing through his chest.

When the storm settled, the White Demon Swordmaster lay dead—his body covered in burns and frostbite, his chest torn open.

-Seriously…

Wrath chuckled faintly in disbelief.

-You’re better at finding weaknesses and gaps than anyone I’ve ever seen.

He shook his head, calling Raon’s behavior as sly as an angel’s.

‘Stop with the insults.’

Raon brushed Wrath aside and sheathed his swords.

“Well.”

Rimmer, sitting on a broken sofa, clapped his hands.

“Stealing the Flowing Blade Technique? You really are my student.”

He laughed joyfully, as if he were more pleased about saving money than the victory itself.

“I was lucky.”

Raon shook his head as he looked down at the White Demon Swordmaster’s corpse.

“He showed me everything he had.”

Usually, warriors hid their best techniques for later, but the White Demon Swordmaster had revealed everything, confident in his skill. That allowed Raon to fully analyze his weaknesses and the essence of his swordsmanship.

“Still, you’re probably the only one who could do that.”

Rimmer chuckled and tossed him a sword.

“This was part of the trade, too. The ‘Spear-Severing Sword’.”

“Yes, I know.”

Raon placed the ‘Spear-Severing Sword’, the ‘Holy Martial Sword Manual’, and the necklace with the white mist onto the table.

“These three items were to be exchanged. But this necklace…”

As Raon inspected the necklace’s bead, a black-robed, shadowy face rose over the Mara Lord’s corpse.

“What is that…?”

Raon’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the black, flickering figure.

‘The Mara Lord should be dead.’

He had confirmed the death, so this sudden resurrection made no sense.

-That’s not him.

Wrath scowled, recognizing the figure as something else entirely.

“Step back!”

Rimmer stepped in front of Raon, biting his lip until it bled.

“It’s the Black Tower Lord!”