Chapter 805
“You really have no thoughts on it?”
Raon lightly tapped the sheath of Heavenly Drive while sticking close to Lawrence.
“Thoughts on what?”
Lawrence paused with his drink halfway to his mouth, tilting his head.
“I told you earlier. Let’s have a spar.”
Raon shrugged while looking at him.
“…That wasn’t a joke?”
Lawrence exhaled sharply, his hand trembling as he held his glass.
“I never joke about sparring.”
Raon nodded firmly, his expression completely serious.
“Hah…”
Lawrence placed his glass down on the table and let out a deep sigh.
“You just ruined my drink.”
He grumbled, muttering about his sudden headache before biting into the roasted chicken leg on his plate.
“And my appetite too.”
— Then offer that chicken leg to me, since you clearly don’t need it!
Wrath clapped his hands, as if things had worked out in his favor.
‘You don’t take food from others.’
Raon shook his head before grabbing a fresh chicken leg from the buffet.
— Huh…?
Wrath blinked, staring at Raon with an astonished expression.
— You… you really have no shame! Do you hear yourself right now?!
His voice rose into a furious scream.
— They say a conscience is like a sharp triangle, stabbing you whenever you do something bad. But yours? It’s gone past dull—it’s as fluffy as an angel’s feather!
Raon shoved the chicken leg into his mouth, effectively silencing Wrath.
The tender meat, coated in savory chili sauce, burst into his mouth with a delightful balance of flavors.
— You wretched human… Mm, delicious.
Wrath’s furrowed brow relaxed, his cheeks turning rosy from satisfaction.
As always, nothing soothed the Demon King’s rage better than good food.
“It hasn’t even been a week since our last spar.”
Lawrence frowned as he watched Raon chew.
“And you’re still recovering from your injuries. What do you think you’re doing…?”
“I’m fully healed.”
Raon patted his chest confidently.
“Don’t lie! It wasn’t just external wounds—you had severe internal injuries!”
Lawrence scowled in disbelief.
“It’s true.”
Rektor approached, standing beside Lawrence.
“I checked myself. His internal and external injuries are completely healed.”
He gestured with his chin, signaling Lawrence to confirm it himself.
“T-That doesn’t make sense! He was coughing up black blood!”
Still skeptical, Lawrence grabbed Raon’s wrist to check his condition.
“Y-You’re serious…?”
His mouth fell open as he realized Raon’s body was in perfect condition.
“How… how is this possible…?”
“I just have a sturdy constitution.”
Raon grinned as he rotated his shoulders.
“Sturdy?! That’s not sturdy—that’s a damn troll’s recovery rate!”
Lawrence shuddered in disbelief.
— This brat isn’t naturally strong! Those damn fool Demon Kings just keep handing him power!
Wrath snorted in irritation.
‘Especially the great and generous Demon King of Wrath.’
— Grrr…
Wrath trembled, unable to deny it.
“So now that you’ve confirmed I’m fine, you’ll spar with me, right?”
Raon pointed toward the training grounds, ready to begin.
“Why are you so obsessed with sparring? No matter how much of a genius you are, you wouldn’t have reached transcendence in just a week! The outcome will be the same!”
Lawrence shook his head, dismissing the idea as meaningless.
“The result might be the same, but I could gain new insights from it.”
“New insights? Oh, right. You said you’ve been meditating?”
Lawrence narrowed his eyes.
“Yes, a little…”
“A little? More like all day.”
Martha appeared behind Raon and scoffed.
“All day?”
“He’s been meditating non-stop since the last sparring match with you.”
“Mm. Looked like he was sleeping sitting up.”
Runaan nodded lazily.
“Why suddenly start meditating? Did that old raccoon over there teach you?”
Lawrence pointed at Jarek, who was chatting with Dorian.
“No. I just found it easier to focus.”
Raon shook his head.
— Of course you did! You gained that damn Tranquil Mind trait!
Wrath growled, still resentful.
— One day, karma will—mm, delicious.
Raon silenced him by shoving another piece of chicken into his mouth.
‘Well, he’s not wrong.’
Thanks to Tranquil Mind, his mental training had become much smoother.
Typically, entering the mental world required extreme concentration, similar to the focus needed in battle.
Even with his natural talent, he had failed many times before. But now, with Tranquil Mind, his success rate had drastically improved.
By entering the mental world daily and refining his swordsmanship there, he had organized his techniques and laid the foundation to advance even further.
“You definitely look like you’ve gained something.”
Lawrence sighed, twisting his lips.
“But not today! I feel like I’ve seen your damn face more than your grandfather’s at this point!”
He shook his head, saying that he was more familiar with Raon’s face than Rektor’s now.
“Then in honor of our newfound closeness, let’s spar—”
“You leech! Get lost!”
Lawrence hurled his empty plate at Raon.
“Just give him one match.”
Jarek caught the plate mid-air and gestured with his fingers.
“You’ll end up missing this pestering one day.”
“You don’t understand. This brat—No, wait! You do understand! You know how endless sparring with him is!”
Lawrence’s eyes flared as he vehemently refused.
“Oh? Then should you spar with me instead, Sir Jarek?”
Raon smirked, reaching toward Jarek.
Having so many masters in the Holy Sword Alliance really was a blessing.
“My b-back’s been acting up a little.”
Jarek immediately refused, patting his lower back as if in pain.
“Huh?”
Dorian tilted his head as he looked at his master.
“But, Master, your back is fine. You don’t need any—”
“Shut your mouth!”
Jarek swiftly blocked Dorian’s Mind’s Eye, his bushy white eyebrows furrowing deeply.
“See? He changes his tune when it concerns him!”
Lawrence scoffed, as if he had expected this all along.
“Then how about the two of you each take a turn?”
Raon licked his lips, still trying to get a match out of them.
“Oh! That, I forgot to mention.”
Jarek waved his hands, chuckling lightly to change the topic.
“When the day comes that we wage war against the White Blood Cult, make sure to call him.”
He met Raon and Martha’s eyes before pointing at Lawrence.
“He insisted that he’d come and fight, no matter what.”
“The old man will help. I won’t.”
Lawrence shook his head firmly.
“I need to avenge my ‘mother’. I’m not ‘helping’—I’ll be fighting alongside you.”
His golden eyes burned with a solemn determination as he spoke of his caretaker’s vengeance.
“That makes sense.”
Martha, her gaze meeting his, smiled faintly. Since they shared a common enemy in the White Blood Cult’s leader, she seemed to understand him.
“I’ll be sure to call you, then.”
“Of course. A-And, well… ahem! If you ever need help with anything else, you can call me too… maybe.”
Lawrence coughed awkwardly and averted his eyes.
“Thank you.”
Raon bowed respectfully, recognizing the sincerity in Lawrence’s words.
— D-Did the Iron Leech’s effect just activate?! Why is someone who got drained dry volunteering to help?!
Wrath fumed, baring his teeth.
‘That’s not it.’
Raon shook his head. He could see the genuine resolve in Lawrence’s eyes.
“Whatever the reason, call us as well!”
“If it’s a battle with you, we’ll be there!”
The Demonic Blade Master and Melodic Blade Master, who had trained with him every day, also raised their hands in commitment.
“Fufu.”
Rektor smiled as he watched more people gather around Raon.
“Understood.”
Raon nodded with a grin.
The greatest treasure he had gained from his time in the Holy Sword Alliance wasn’t just his growth in power and swordsmanship—it was these people.
‘Not all of the Five Demons are pure evil.’
Through them, he realized that not everyone under the Five Demons was an outright villain.
‘Of course, there’s one clear exception.’
Derus Robert.
The monster who summoned Angels to spread evil across the world—no matter his circumstances, Raon would kill him with his own hands.
As he clenched his fists, reaffirming his resolve—
— The food here is truly… hmm?
Wrath, who had been basking in the aroma of the food, suddenly furrowed his brows.
“Could it be…?”
At almost the same moment, Rektor turned toward the entrance, swallowing dryly.
“Grandfather?”
Raon carefully approached Rektor.
“What’s wrong—”
“Step back. No, leave this place!”
Rektor didn’t even turn his head as he waved his hand.
“Right now!”
His golden eyes twisted as he shouted.
“Why…?”
Raon instinctively stepped back but expanded his Aura Perception.
‘What…?’
A massive, indescribable energy was emanating from the entrance of the rocky mountains.
‘This aura…’
It carried a force strong enough to remind him of Glenn Zieghart—yet it felt oddly familiar.
No, it wasn’t just familiar—he knew this presence.
“The former Lord of the Holy Sword Alliance?”
Though the energy’s flow had changed, there was no mistaking it—it was the previous Holy Sword Alliance Lord.
“Lawrence, Jarek!”
Rektor gritted his teeth as he called their names.
“Get the kids out through the rear passage!”
He bit his lip as he indicated a route away from the mountain pass.
“A-All right!”
Lawrence, his jaw trembling, clearly sensed the former Holy Sword Alliance Lord’s energy as well. He quickly gestured for Raon and the others to follow him.
“There’s no time to explain! Move!”
He spun around and started leading them away.
But Raon didn’t follow.
‘It’s too late.’
Just as he had sensed the former Holy Sword Alliance Lord, that man had already sensed him.
“Raon! What are you—”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Just as Lawrence reached for Raon’s arm, a deep, slicing voice cut through the air from the center of the banquet.
Fwoooosh!
With a sharp gust of wind, a red-haired man descended.
His eyes were covered with a black blindfold, and he wore a tattered dragon robe over his shoulders.
The Holy Sword Alliance Lord—the Demon of the Blade, thought to be dead, had returned.
‘But… he’s different.’
The aura he emitted wasn’t the same.
The sheer, overwhelming force was still there, but instead of being filled with pure dominance, there was a strange, unfamiliar softness to it.
He was the same man—yet he felt like someone entirely different.
“Darkhan…”
Rektor murmured the name of the former Holy Sword Alliance Lord, his lips trembling.
“It’s been a while, Rektor. Or should I call you Holy Sword Alliance Lord now?”
Even with his blindfold on, Darkhan turned his head directly toward Rektor.
“You survived?”
“By sheer luck.”
Darkhan smiled faintly.
“Why are you only appearing now?”
“Because my soul was nearly torn apart before I died. And I had things to consider. But…”
Darkhan casually rotated his chin, his gaze settling behind Lawrence.
He curled his lips into a smirk.
“Is this still the Holy Sword Alliance, or is it Zieghart now?”
He had already recognized Raon and the others despite their disguises.
A cold, eerie smile formed on his face.
“Just as I expected, you and that boy have a… special relationship.”
It was clear that he had suspected something all along.
“That’s—”
“Aah, no need to explain.”
Darkhan waved his hand dismissively.
“You’re the Holy Sword Alliance Lord now, aren’t you? And a Lord only sits on the throne once.”
His lips twisted further.
“There’s no need for a Lord to explain his decisions to a dead man.”
“Do you truly mean that?”
Rektor furrowed his brows, disbelief evident on his face.
“Of course. Sitting on the throne and absorbing sword techniques had its appeal, but it’s meaningless to me now.”
Darkhan waved his hand dismissively, as if he genuinely held no lingering attachment to the position of Holy Sword Alliance Lord.
“I’ve found a new goal… and new prey.”
A sinister hunger flickered behind the black blindfold covering his eyes.
“You…”
Raon stepped in front of Lawrence, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“How are you still alive?”
The others might not understand, but he knew. The former Holy Sword Alliance Lord had been standing right in front of Glenn Zieghart. There was no logical reason for him to have survived.
“Raon Zieghart. Yes, I suppose you would find this worth explaining.”
Darkhan acknowledged Raon’s recognition without hesitation.
“Your family head was greedy. He didn’t just aim for me—he targeted all of the Five Demons’ leaders.”
He stroked his boulder-like chin as he spoke.
“If Glenn had focused solely on me or unleashed his Heart Sword fully, I would have died. But he was thinking of too many things—protecting you all, ensuring no collateral damage… Thanks to that, I survived, albeit disgracefully.”
“Disgracefully?”
“Yes. When I saw that beautiful Heart Sword, I thought, ‘I can die without regrets.’ But then… I realized I wanted to wield that blade myself. So I ripped apart my own soul just to hold on.”
Darkhan let out a deep chuckle, as if confessing his own ugliness was amusing.
“My soul was torn to shreds, but I clung to life. Even now, the thought sends shivers down my spine. A sword that cuts souls—! I was so content with Sword Possession that I never even imagined such a realm existed. It’s madness, pure madness!”
He was laughing wildly, his words stretched with raw excitement.
“Then… your eyes…?”
Raon’s gaze fell on the black blindfold covering Darkhan’s eyes.
If he bore a grudge over that injury, Raon might not make it out of this alive.
“No, not that.”
Darkhan shook his head firmly.
“As my soul recovered, I kept recalling your family head’s sword. A sword that cuts souls… I envisioned it thousands of times in my mental world. But no matter what I did, it never became mine.”
The more he spoke, the colder the air around them grew.
“So I thought back to the beginning. An invisible sword. A sword that cuts souls. A sword of the mind. A sword that was never meant to be seen or grasped in the first place. So…”
A grotesque grin split Darkhan’s face.
“I plucked out my eyes.”
With that, he pulled off his blindfold.
The space where his eyes should have been was nothing but raw, torn flesh. His sockets had been savagely gouged out.
“Ugh!”
“Aah….”
“W-What the hell….”
Even the seasoned swordsmen of the Holy Sword Alliance trembled at the horrifying sight.
“Only then did I see what the Heart Sword truly is.”
But Darkhan grinned as if it had been a worthy trade.
— I knew he was crazy, but this… This is beyond insane.
Wrath, for once, sounded genuinely disturbed.
“But I still haven’t reached your grandfather’s level. That’s why I’m so… intrigued by you.”
Darkhan licked his lips as he looked at Raon.
“If I study you, I might be able to reach the same conclusion.”
“Step back!”
“Raon! Get behind me!”
Lawrence and Jarek immediately moved to shield Raon from Darkhan’s gaze.
“Hah…”
Darkhan exhaled, his previous excitement settling into quiet disappointment.
“Counter techniques and Mind’s Eye… You two are of no interest to me.”
His voice turned cold as he reached out his hand.
BOOM!
Lawrence and Jarek were instantly slammed into the ground, their bodies unable to withstand the sheer weight of Darkhan’s aura.
Black blood spurted from their mouths.
“The only one I want… is him.”
“Then what about me?”
Rektor stepped in front of Raon, his gaze steady.
“You must have noticed my change as well.”
“Of course.”
Darkhan’s lips curled up once again.
“Your growth has surprised even me. It seems you’ve found enlightenment in a different way than I did.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased.
“If I were still stuck in my old ways, you might have devoured me completely.”
His voice trembled slightly with exhilaration.
“Then let’s begin.”
Darkhan casually flicked his fingers, and Jarek’s sword was ripped from his scabbard, flying straight into Darkhan’s grip.
“Grandfather!”
Raon couldn’t hold back anymore and called out.
“I told you, even if I die, I will protect you.”
Rektor turned his head slightly, offering a reassuring smile.
“Grandfather, huh… That makes it even more tempting.”
Darkhan’s missing eyes might have robbed him of sight, but his insatiable hunger remained—stronger than ever.
“I won’t lose this time.”
Rektor unsheathed his sword, stepping forward.
“Good. Try to satisfy me.”
Darkhan rested Jarek’s sword on his shoulder and tilted his head.
The moment both men’s breaths stopped in sync—
Clang!
Their swords clashed, sending a massive shockwave across the training ground.
