Chapter 815

A gentle campfire flickered in the night.

Raon examined the martial book he had received from Darkhan, letting out a quiet chuckle.

‘It’s astonishing no matter how many times I look at it.’

The mnemonic formulas and operational methods were unbelievably refined.

[Sword Control] was an extremely complex martial art, with only a handful of practitioners throughout the continent’s history. Even transcendents struggled to master it, yet this book dissected its intricacies so thoroughly that even Grandmasters could comprehend it.

‘I knew he was exceptional, but I didn’t expect this level.’

To create legendary martial arts like [Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation] and [Ring of Fire], and then break down [Sword Control] in a way that anyone could understand—there was no doubt that Zieghart’s ancestor was a god of martial arts.

‘A true grandmaster in every sense.’

Although he himself had created various sword techniques and martial arts, at his current level, he couldn’t even begin to compare.

‘But what exactly was he preparing for?’

Zieghart’s ancestor had traveled across the continent, planting seeds for the future.

For someone that powerful to take such precautions—Raon couldn’t help but wonder what he had been preparing for.

‘Could it be because of that monster I saw in the cave…?’

— With just that?

As Raon pondered over Zieghart’s ancestor’s dream, Wrath suddenly leaped up.

‘Hmm?’

— If this king had put his mind to it, I could have created something even greater than that martial art!

Wrath thumped his chest, boasting that he could forge a martial art far superior to [Sword Control].

‘For example?’

Raon tilted his chin slightly toward him.

— If it were me, I would create countless [Sword Control] from ice and unleash them all at once!

‘Oh? Go ahead and show me.’

— …Huh?

Wrath’s eyes widened in shock. He had expected Raon to let his boasting slide as usual, so being challenged to demonstrate caught him off guard.

‘You said you could do it. Give it a try.’

— Uh…

The spirit swallowed dryly before quickly turning his head away.

— W-why should this king waste his efforts for your sake! Creating it is simple, but I absolutely won’t show you!

‘I don’t need you to teach me. Just demonstrate it.’

— It’s not happening! You always copy whatever you see! I won’t hand over military secrets to you!

Wrath took a step back, making absurd excuses about military confidentiality.

‘Seriously.’

Raon smirked before returning his focus to the book. Perhaps because they had grown closer, Wrath’s boasting and pranks seemed to have increased.

“How is it?”

Martha eyed the [Sword Control] manual, licking her lips.

“Do you think you’ll be able to use it properly?”

Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she leaned in.

“Yes. The explanations are very clear.”

Lowering the book, Raon nodded calmly.

“If refined properly, I might be able to make it usable even for you once you reach Grandmaster level.”

If he attained transcendence and further improved his mastery of [Sword Control], he could potentially modify it so that even Grandmasters could wield it.

Of course, it wouldn’t be usable for beginners—it would require at least a mid-tier Grandmaster.

“Really…?”

Runaan, who had been staring blankly at the fire, suddenly sprang to her feet.

“You mean we can learn [Sword Control] too?”

“Uh? Ah… maybe…”

“Wow!”

Runaan raised both arms, cheering softly. Considering her usual demeanor, this was an extreme reaction.

“I didn’t think you’d be that interested in [Sword Control].”

Raon chuckled as he watched Runaan repeatedly pump her fists.

“Interested? No way.”

Martha scoffed, shaking her head.

“She always complains about how training is a hassle and makes her sleepy. She just wants to use [Sword Control] to ride on her sword.”

Snorting, she crossed her arms as if she had seen right through Runaan’s intentions.

“No way…”

“It’s true.”

Runaan nodded firmly, confirming Martha’s claim.

“I want to ride my sword to work and take naps on it.”

Her cheeks flushed as she imagined herself dozing off on a floating sword under the warm sunlight.

“You idiot! If you fall asleep, you’ll drop right off the blade!”

Martha wrinkled her nose, looking utterly exasperated.

“…I won’t fall.”

Runaan furrowed her brows stubbornly.

“You absolutely will!”

“I won’t.”

Martha and Runaan butted heads like bulls, arguing over whether she could maintain [Sword Control] while sleeping.

“Haa…”

Watching the two headbutting each other, Raon let out a long sigh.

‘Why are they getting more childish?’

They had been so composed as trainees, yet the older they got, the more immature they seemed.

— It’s because they’ve grown closer.

Wrath waved a dismissive hand, saying it was a good thing.

‘Like you?’

— What nonsense!

‘Never mind.’

Raon chuckled before turning his attention back to the book—just as Burren approached.

“Raon.”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think about what the previous Holy Sword Alliance Leader said?”

Burren’s expression was dark. He still seemed troubled by the revelation that Zieghart had a connection to the Holy Sword Alliance.

“It’s not absolute, but I think it’s possible.”

Considering what he saw in his dream, along with Rektor and Darkhan’s testimonies, it was clear that Zieghart’s ancestor was involved in the origins of the Holy Sword Alliance.

It was a certainty for Raon, but since he couldn’t reveal everything, he only suggested the possibility.

“…I see.”

Burren pressed his lips together tightly. As someone who took immense pride in Zieghart, the thought of any connection to the Five Demons seemed deeply unsettling.

“There’s no need to be upset or angry.”

Raon shook his head calmly.

“But the Holy Sword Alliance belongs to the Five Demons! Even though your grandfather has changed it a lot, if you look at its past, it’s nothing but evil…”

“What about the people of the Holy Sword Alliance you’ve met here?”

“What?”

Burren blinked, taken aback.

“Forget about its reputation as part of the Five Demons. What do you think of the Holy Sword Alliance members you’ve seen firsthand?”

Raon spoke softly, urging Burren to reconsider.

“…There were some rough individuals, but overall, they were fundamentally good people with a deep passion for the sword.”

Burren bit his lip, realizing that the swordsmen of the Holy Sword Alliance weren’t all that different from those of Zieghart.

“They were part of the Five Demons in the past and still are now. But to call them evil…”

“That wouldn’t be right.”

With a small sigh, Burren nodded.

“There’s no denying that the Holy Sword Alliance committed many atrocities and that they were called the Five Demons for a reason.”

Raon lowered both hands and drew two lines in the dirt.

“The connection between Zieghart and the Holy Sword Alliance that Darkhan mentioned goes back hundreds of years—maybe even further. Back then, the Holy Sword Alliance might have been righteous, and Zieghart could have been the villains. And in the future, things could reverse again.”

He drew a straight line to the right, while the one on the left twisted into a complex maze.

“We’ve seen firsthand what kind of person Derus Robert is. The world changes depending on how you look at it.”

Raon connected the two contrasting lines and smiled.

“…That’s true.”

Burren finally seemed to understand, nodding solemnly.

“It’s not about names or reputations. You have to look at what’s inside—whether it’s a person or a family.”

Raon, having experienced both his past and present lives, passed on the lesson he had learned.

“I see now… I was too fixated on the title of the Five Demons.”

Burren sighed deeply, acknowledging his mistake.

“It’s fine. I thought you were just an annoying rich kid when we first met.”

Raon grinned, playfully patting Burren’s shoulder.

“T-that was because I was young…”

Recalling his arrogant past, Burren’s face turned red as he bit his lip.

“I was joking.”

Raon waved a hand dismissively.

‘Burren’s strong attachment to the Zieghart name must come from Karoon.’

Burren still admired Karoon, and Karoon took immense pride in Zieghart. It was only natural for a son to inherit his father’s beliefs.

— Now that I think about it, you never cared about names or reputations from the start.

Wrath narrowed his eyes, saying Raon had been oddly mature about such things.

‘Because I’ve been burned before.’

Raon smirked as he recalled his past life under Derus.

‘And that wasn’t just for Burren.’

The idea of looking beyond the surface wasn’t just advice for Burren—it was also a vow to himself. He couldn’t let his revenge against Derus turn him into someone who created more innocent victims, another version of himself.

“All done! Enjoy while it’s warm!”

Dorian handed out tea to everyone.

Thanks to his new ability, the color of the tea differed for each person.

“Huh…?”

Raon narrowed his eyes at the thick, greenish liquid in his cup.

“What is this?”

He had never seen tea with such a color before.

“Oh, that? It’s made from mint chocolate!”

Dorian grinned, saying he thought it might be useful.

“Mint chocolate?”

— Mint chocolate!

Runaan and Wrath both rushed toward the teacup at the same time.

“Ugh…”

Runaan, after seeing the steaming mint chocolate tea, frowned and quickly backed away.

— Ohh! My wish has been granted!

Wrath smacked his lips as if he had ordered it himself.

He had been dancing on Raon’s head earlier—this must have been his real objective.

“Hot mint chocolate is just… no.”

— Shut up and drink!

Wrath forcefully pried Raon’s mouth open.

“Ugh…”

Raon reluctantly drank the mint chocolate tea, but he barely got halfway through before spitting it out.

— This… is a new experience!

Wrath’s eyes sparkled as he marveled at the warm mint chocolate.

‘I really can’t understand your taste, but… huh?’

As Raon wiped his tongue, he suddenly turned around.

‘What was that?’

He had felt a gaze on him just moments ago, but when he looked back, there was no one there.

Even when he extended his senses, he detected nothing—not even an animal.

‘Wrath, did you sense anything?’

— Sense what? Stop making excuses and drink your mint chocolate tea!

Wrath was already too absorbed in the drink, his eyes gleaming with delight.

“……”

Raon stared at him before silently pouring the rest of the tea into the campfire.

— YAAAAAHHH!

Wrath flailed his chubby arms, trying to stop him, but of course, it was too late.

— You… you will go straight to heaven! And you’ll be a slave there for eternity!

‘Something was definitely there…’

Ignoring Wrath’s tantrum, Raon turned back once more.

‘I’m sure of it.’

—

Rumble!

A massive tremor shook all of Zieghart as if an earthquake had struck.

“Oh, it’s already six?”

“Let’s go eat.”

“What’s for dinner today?”

Despite the violent shaking, the swordsmen in the training grounds simply licked their lips and headed toward the dining hall as if nothing had happened.

Even those walking down the streets were unfazed, casually chatting as they strolled along.

“Puhahaha!”

Rimmer burst into laughter as he watched the scene.

“They’ve been dealing with this at the same time every day… It’s basically an alarm now! Should we start calling it the ‘Northern King Alarm’?”

He clutched his stomach, laughing at the sight of the bustling dining hall.

“It’s been two months already. I guess they’ve just accepted it.”

The Gambling Monster chuckled in disbelief.

“But if he’s making this much of a fuss, why doesn’t he just meet him directly?”

He muttered, staring toward Zieghart’s main building, confused by the absurdity of the situation.

“He’s scared the Five Demons might act up.”

Rimmer smacked his lips, saying the destruction of Zieghart’s walls had been a major shock.

“I get it, but still, it’s a shame.”

“What I don’t get is you.”

The Gambling Monster narrowed his eyes at Rimmer.

“Me?”

Rimmer pointed to himself, confused.

“Yes.”

The Gambling Monster stepped forward, staring straight into Rimmer’s eyes.

“You usually spend your days slacking off, but for the past two months while Raon was gone, you worked harder than anyone.”

The Gambling Monster observed Rimmer closely. Normally, Rimmer neither trained himself nor cared much about Light Wind Division’s training.

However, during Raon’s absence, he had dedicated himself not only to training the division but also to his own personal growth.

Even though Rimmer had shown signs of maturing, The Gambling Monster never expected him to maintain this level of discipline for two months straight.

“They say when a person suddenly changes, it’s a sign of impending death. Did you catch some kind of fatal disease?” (T/N: Is this a death flag? Noooooooooo)

The Gambling Monster’s sharp eyes bore into Rimmer, demanding the truth.

“I’m an elf. Human superstitions don’t apply to me.”

Rimmer shrugged, unfazed.

“You’re as unpredictable as ever.”

The Gambling Monster clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Instead of worrying about me, you should be looking over there—huh?”

Rimmer was pointing toward the Zieghart main residence when he suddenly widened his eyes. The usual tremors had stopped much sooner than expected.

“What’s going on?”

The Gambling Monster also noticed that Glenn had stopped his leg trembling earlier than usual, his eyebrows furrowing.

“He’s stopping earlier than usual today.”

“Why do you think?”

Rimmer smirked and tilted his head back.

“The mighty grandson is coming home!”

He strode toward the training grounds, confidently stating that the only person capable of making Glenn stop his habit was Raon.

“The Division Leader is returning?”

“Has it already been two months?”

“It’s been way over two months.”

“We should go, too! We need to show how much we’ve improved!”

The Light Wind Division swordsmen eagerly followed Rimmer, excited to welcome Raon back and demonstrate their progress.

When Rimmer and the Light Wind Division reached the front gates, the massive doors creaked open, revealing Raon, three squad leaders, and Dorian walking inside.

“Huh?”

“Hooh.”

The Gambling Monster and Rimmer both let out gasps of admiration.

“What in the world did they go through?”

The Gambling Monster exhaled sharply as he scanned Burren, Martha, Runaan, and Dorian one by one.

“They’ve all changed so much.”

He smiled at the sight of them, noting that each one seemed to have transformed into a completely different person.

“But wait… is that really Dorian?”

The Gambling Monster raised an eyebrow at the noticeably thinner Dorian.

“Looks like it. He sometimes loses weight like that, but this time it’s pretty extreme.”

Rimmer also widened his eyes in surprise at Dorian’s change.

“It’s not just his appearance. His skills have improved significantly, too. It’s shocking, but…”

Rimmer swallowed dryly as he gazed into Raon’s calm eyes.

“Our Division Leader has changed the most.”

While their strength had clearly increased, the aura in Raon’s gaze had transformed. His composed yet razor-sharp presence made him feel like he was staring at a transcendent far beyond his level.

“We have returned.”

Raon stepped forward and bowed to Rimmer and The Gambling Monster.

“Good work!”

The Gambling Monster nodded in satisfaction at their growth.

“What did you do? Were you just training non-stop over there?”

Rimmer clapped Raon on the shoulder, his voice filled with admiration.

“Something like that. There’s a lot to discuss. But…”

Raon’s lips curled slightly before his red eyes gleamed.

“It seems the ones behind you have been taking it easy.”

His faint smile held an ominous air as he turned toward the main residence.

“Oh? You just goofed off? What’s with this lack of progress?”

Martha curled her lips as she scrutinized the Light Wind Division.

“We did train! It’s just nowhere near as intense as what you guys did.”

Burren let out a deep sigh, as if preparing himself to whip them into shape.

“You won’t be getting any sleep from now on…”

Runaan nodded solemnly and followed Raon.

“You’re all dead meat!”

Even Dorian raised his small fist, directing it at the Light Wind Division.

“Ugh…”

Rimmer swallowed hard as he watched Raon and his companions walk away. No matter how much he had pushed the division, their growth was nothing compared to the monstrous improvements on the other side.

“What the…”

Krein clutched his head in frustration, staring at the departing figures of Raon and the others.

“What the hell did they go through? They all turned into Raon Ziegharts!”

—

Raon entered the audience chamber and stood before Glenn’s throne.

“Raon Zieghart and four members of the Light Wind Division. We have completed our training with the Holy Sword Alliance and returned.”

He formally announced their return, lowering himself to one knee.

Burren, Martha, Runaan, and Dorian followed suit, kneeling behind him.

“Rise.”

“Thank you.”

“Hm, I see… Hrk!”

Glenn, who had been calmly observing them, suddenly let out a sharp gasp.

His expression was difficult to describe—it was a mix of joy, sorrow, and something akin to the lifelessness of a corpse.

No, in fact, it was a bizarre fusion of all three emotions.

“L-Lord Glenn? Are you alright?”

“Huff… I’m fine.”

Glenn placed a hand on his left chest and shook his head.

“Ahem! I was just caught off guard since it’s been so long.”

He took a deep breath and gradually composed his twisted expression.

“You have grown enough to justify being away for two months. Every single one of you has improved.”

Glenn examined them one by one, his deep smile revealing his satisfaction.

“It seems like you didn’t just experience ordinary training.”

“Indeed. There is much to report this time as well.”

Raon nodded as he organized his thoughts about the Holy Sword Alliance.

“Then speak.”

“Yes, sir.”

Raon began recounting everything—from their rigorous training, to the unique swordsmen of the Holy Sword Alliance, and even the return of the previous leader.

“So that’s how you were able to reach such a level. Expanding the domain of the Ten Thousand Swords is an even greater achievement than increasing your power.”

Glenn nodded approvingly, pleased by their growth.

“And so, Darkhan truly was alive. To think he plucked out his own eyes to master the Heart Sword… that is exactly the kind of thing he would do.”

It was clear that Glenn had suspected Darkhan’s survival, but his reaction lacked any strong sentiment—no regret or frustration.

“Lord Glenn.”

Raon looked at him and lowered his head.

“There is something I would like to ask.”

“Speak.”

Glenn lowered his hand, signaling that he would answer any question.

“Among the ancestors of Zieghart, was there anyone with blonde hair and red eyes like mine who wielded [Sword Control]? Ah! And they used fire aura, but its color was golden.”

Raon recounted every detail of the figure he had seen in his dreams, watching Glenn closely.

“Hmm!”

Glenn’s eyes widened in shock before he lowered his gaze, deep in thought.

“As you know, golden hair and red eyes are not rare among Zieghart’s bloodline. If you go far back in history, you will find countless swordsmen who bore those features. However—”

His crimson eyes gleamed with reverence as they narrowed slightly.

“There has only ever been one person who wielded golden flames.”

A profound weight settled in his voice.

“The first head of Zieghart. He alone commanded the golden fire.”