Chapter 950
‘How… how is this possible?’
Raon’s fingertips trembled as he stared into the mirror.
‘It was just an ordinary mirror a moment ago.’
Since entering the Chamber of Self, he had tried various experiments—running both [Ring of Fire] and [Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation]—but nothing had ever happened in this lifeless room. Yet now, this.
‘Ssshhh.’
While his face stiffened in shock, the Raon in the mirror smiled faintly.
‘At least there’s no malice coming from it.’
It didn’t feel like some outside force invading; the reflection gave off a familiar, almost gentle aura.
– Eh? What is that plump cotton candy over there?
Wrath squinted at his own reflection in the mirror.
– How disgraceful! Look how bloated and unsightly it is!
He snorted derisively, ridiculing his own appearance.
‘…That’s you, you know.’
Raon let out a helpless laugh.
– What nonsense! There’s no way that lump could be—grkh!
Wrath froze mid‑sentence as realization dawned. His jaw dropped so wide it could have fallen off.
– W‑why am ‘I’ reflected in the mirror!? And why do I look like that!?
‘That’s how you’ve always looked.’
Raon waved dismissively.
– Absolutely not! I possess the greatest beauty in all of Devildom!
Wrath clawed at his head, lamenting the loss of what he swore was his elegant, majestic form. Unlike Raon’s reflection, Wrath’s movements were mirrored exactly in real time.
Meanwhile, the reflection of Raon simply smiled, silent and serene, as if observing everything.
“What’s so funny?”
The moment Raon frowned and muttered, darkness spread through the room, swallowing it whole. The aged walls dissolved, leaving only shifting shadows—and the mirror.
‘You want me to come closer, huh?’
With nothing left but the mirror before him, that seemed the only choice.
“Haa…”
He exhaled softly and stepped forward, reaching out toward the smiling reflection.
‘Ssshhh.’
The mirror’s surface rippled, accepting his hand without resistance. It was cool and smooth, like dipping one’s fingers into a stream.
– Y‑you’re being pulled in! Get out of there, fool!
Wrath shook his shoulders frantically.
‘It’s fine.’
There was no hostility—only warmth. The reflection’s calm smile assured him this was safe. This mirror must be the true entrance to the Chamber of Self.
‘Wooooong!’
Raon let the mirror engulf him. His hand, arm, and finally his whole body sank into the surface—and just as his reflection overlapped with him—
“So you’ve finally come.”
The reflection’s lips moved.
“My…”
—
“Mmm…”
Raon frowned as his eyes fluttered open.
‘Did I fall asleep?’
He propped himself up, only to see rippling shadows flowing beneath his hands like a dark river. It looked like water, yet he didn’t sink.
‘I was pulled into the mirror, wasn’t I?’
He faintly recalled his reflection saying something at the end, but couldn’t remember what.
‘Where am I?’
Standing up, he looked around.
‘There’s really a place like this?’
The ground beneath him shimmered with black currents, and before him stretched a vast sea.
Except—the sea wasn’t normal.
‘A silver sea?’
It glittered as though snow covered its surface—a wintry ocean of silver light stretching endlessly toward the horizon.
‘Then what’s behind me?’
Turning toward the heat at his back, he found a towering dune—a mountain of golden sand so tall its peak vanished into the clouds.
‘So this is the real Chamber of Self.’
The small room must have been only an entrance to this world.
‘That’s why he said Nadine Bread wasn’t needed.’
Now he understood Glenn’s words. This wasn’t the real world—he wouldn’t need food here.
‘Wait…’
Speaking of Nadine Bread—why is it so quiet?
Normally, the very mention of it would send the cotton candy demon into hysterics. But now… silence.
‘Wrath?’
He looked around quickly, calling out, but there was no response.
‘So I came alone?’
Perhaps only one being could enter, and Wrath had been rejected.
‘Peaceful… but also a bit lonely.’
After so long together, the lack of Wrath’s constant noise felt strange.
‘Still, this might be better for training. The question is…’
Which way should he go?
The silver sea and the golden mountain both stretched beyond sight, each strangely familiar.
‘Then…’
Raon looked up toward the golden mountain.
‘Let’s climb the mountain first.’
A mountain had a summit; the sea did not. It was a place to start.
‘All right, let’s—huh?’
As he took his first step, his body froze.
‘My aura… it’s gone.’
The energy that always filled his mana core was completely absent. In fact, he couldn’t even sense his core.
‘So that’s how it’s going to be.’
Raon’s lips curled faintly as he looked up toward the cloud‑covered peak.
‘But this won’t be enough to stop me.’
—
His legs sank deep with every step. The entire golden mountain was made of loose sand—each movement exhausting.
‘This isn’t ordinary sand.’
Even without aura, the principles of his movement technique remained, yet climbing felt like wading through a swamp.
‘Just walking is draining my stamina.’
He was only climbing, yet his body felt as though it were fighting a war.
‘Not just aura—my physical strength is diminished too.’
He could feel it clearly. His superhuman body had been reduced to that of an ordinary adult man. Every incline stole his breath and weakened his legs.
‘And it’s so damn hot…’
Even with his fire‑resistant body, sweat drenched his clothes, and every step on the scorching sand burned his soles.
“Don’t tell me…”
Raon narrowed his eyes at the peak.
‘Even my traits are gone?’
He stretched out a hand, trying to summon his [Status Window].
‘Nothing.’
The interface that always responded instantly was gone.
‘Even messages from within the mindscape could appear before…’
But not here. Not even the system connected to his soul worked now. Truly, this place was special.
“Unbelievable.”
The words escaped his lips before he could stop them. This Chamber—or perhaps the reflection in the mirror—seemed determined to make him suffer.
‘Fine then. I’ll take whatever it throws at me.’
If there was one thing he excelled at, it was endurance.
Even back when he was the assassin Raon, and now as Raon Zieghart, no one could outlast him in sheer will.
“I’ll climb to the very top.”
He wiped the sweat from his brow and stepped forward once more.
As the slope steepened, walking became impossible. He dug his hands into the burning sand, clawing upward.
‘Feels like my hands are on fire.’
The sensation was like grasping heated chains. Pain clouded his head, but he forced himself onward.
‘How long has it been since I felt something like this?’
He had faced death countless times in battle, but pain from nature itself—this was new.
‘Maybe I’ve had it too easy.’
His achievements had always been rewarded—stats increased, traits awakened. Even if he had worked hard, the system had always given him more.
‘But why take it all away?’
Why strip him of every ability?
‘Let’s think. What’s left to me?’
Only his mind and his swordsmanship.
His body, aura, stamina, and system were gone—but his mind and mastery remained.
‘Then I’ll train not with my body, but with my mind.’
It had been a long time since he’d wielded his sword purely within thought.
‘Let’s try it.’
He envisioned himself stronger—his future self—and the blade that could reach that height.
‘Whoosh.’
He imagined petals of crimson flame spreading like the leaves of the World Tree, and the blazing arc of [Whirlwind of Flames] painting the sky like a sun. The image alone filled him with quiet joy.
‘Wait…’
The pain from the heat was fading.
As his thoughts filled with swordsmanship, the burning sensation dulled, and the scorching sand no longer hurt.
‘So that’s the key.’
Raon’s lips curved faintly. Imagining his sword cleaving this mountain, he took another step forward—slowly, but surely.
—
‘Right… the [Fangs of Insanity] would’ve worked better there.’
As he practiced swordsmanship in his mind, old battles resurfaced. He’d thought he’d done well then—but looking back, he saw only mistakes.
‘I relied too much on power.’
He had learned countless sword forms—yet fought by brute force. That imbalance now seemed shameful.
‘And my swordsmanship itself… is incomplete.’
He’d mastered many techniques, but perfected none. Even his original creations remained unfinished.
‘Let’s go back to the beginning.’
One step, one sword. He recalled his days as a trainee, when merely swinging a blade brought joy.
The sun’s heat, the burning sand, even fatigue—they all vanished. His focus was absolute.
Raon climbed endlessly, forging his true sword within his soul. As the mysteries of [Ten Thousand Swords] within him broke their limits and surged higher, his feet finally touched solid ground.
“Hm?”
The golden sand had disappeared. Before him stretched a field of pure white.
“So I made it.”
Only hardened, pale earth extended before him. He had conquered the golden mountain.
‘Unbelievable, even for me.’
He turned back. The ascent was hidden behind clouds, unreachable by sight. To think he’d climbed it all without aura, traits, or strength—it was absurd.
‘That must be the path ahead.’
From the summit stretched a staircase of pale gold, leading upward.
He exhaled and began to climb.
After a long ascent, a circular platform came into view—and atop it stood a man.
‘That figure…’
He couldn’t see his face, but the tall, golden-haired man radiated quiet strength. A sword with a blazing knot hung at his waist, and a black coat draped over his frame.
“No way…”
As Raon approached the platform, the man lifted his head.
Calm crimson eyes met his, beneath hair that glowed like molten sunlight. The man standing atop the platform wore Raon’s own face.
‘No, not quite.’
He was older—his features hardened by years of battle, his very breath exuding the aura of countless wars.
‘I understand now… who he is.’
The first Head of Zieghart.
He had rarely seen his face directly, but the back, the aura—he knew them. The golden-haired, red-eyed man radiating overwhelming dominance could be none other.
“……”
Without a word, the First Head drew his sword. The silver blade gleamed as a tyrannical, peerless presence surged from it.
“Taking away my strength before a duel—that’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?”
Raon smiled faintly as he grasped Heavenly Drive. He still had no aura, his stamina was low, and his body throbbed with pain.
Yet the chance to cross blades with this man—the symbol of absolute strength—filled him with excitement.
“I’ll be learning a thing or two from you.”
With trembling hands, Raon drew his sword. The silver edge shimmered as he leveled it toward the supreme warrior of a bygone age.
“O strongest of a thousand years past…”