Chapter 951
Goooooooh!
From the darkness that melted like the Abyss itself, the Blue Demon King rose.
Beautiful yet terrifying, radiant yet cloaked in blackness—an otherworldly existence.
Wrath, the Monarch of Wrath and the absolute ruler of Devildom, opened his blue eyes within the body he had once lost.
“Where is this…?”
Wrath looked around, narrowing his eyes.
“Inside that mirror?”
He remembered stepping into that peculiar mirror, but nothing beyond that.
“This is… my body.”
Wrath flexed his long, slender fingers like a pianist touching keys, clicking his tongue softly. It had been too long since he moved his true body.
“Yes! This beautiful figure is my true form! That cotton candy-like—hm?”
Just as he was about to declare that the blue cotton candy could never be his real appearance, he felt a faint, unfamiliar sensation at his fingertips.
‘Tch.’
Wrath clicked his tongue.
‘Unfortunately, this isn’t reality.’
He had existed as a spirit for far too long.
Even if he had returned to his original body, it should have taken time to adjust. Yet his body responded instantly, which could only mean—this was someone’s Mental World.
‘Who could have created something like this?’
He had laughed when he heard the grand name “Chamber of Self,” but now that he was inside, he was astonished. How could such a vivid and realistic world exist within a small mirror?
‘That so-called first Head of House doesn’t seem like an ordinary human.’
Even among Transcendents, no human could craft a Mental World capable of sustaining a Demon King’s soul—especially a thousand years ago, when chaos raged because of the Demon Dragons.
‘No wonder Raon has such absurd mental strength.’
He’d thought it strange from the beginning. Clearly, the Zieghart lineage had never been normal.
‘But where is Raon?’
He spread his perception, but Raon’s presence was nowhere to be found.
Instead, a faint golden mountain radiated a massive presence in the distance.
It was too far to discern, but it was strong—perhaps even an equal.
‘Should I go there? No…’
That mountain was not the path he should take.
Even in Devildom, power like that was rare—but the one who had to face that being was not him.
‘The place calling my soul is…’
Wrath looked toward the black sea stretching before him.
‘This sea.’
The pull of destiny he felt came not from the mountain behind him but from the dark sea ahead.
‘That mountain must be Raon’s path.’
With that thought, he could guess who awaited atop it.
‘However…’
Something about this world was twisted.
‘Only one soul is supposed to enter this place at a time, wasn’t it?’
Perhaps something had gone wrong when he entered alongside Raon.
“Well, whatever the case…”
Wrath stepped boldly toward the black sea.
“For now, moving forward is the answer.”
The instant his foot touched the sea, the black water began to purify—turning to a frosty silver hue.
“Hm.”
Wrath frowned as he watched the water beneath his foot change.
‘This pain…’
A stabbing pain surged through his leg as though blades were piercing it.
“So, I must adapt again? Interesting.”
Unbothered by pain, Wrath strode deeper into the sea with even wider steps.
He endured the agony—like flesh being sawed open—with laughter, dyeing the black sea in his own color.
“There’s no need to worry about you.”
Standing in the now blue-stained sea, he looked back toward the fading golden mountain.
“I’ll be waiting at the end.”
With a faint, trusting smile, Wrath advanced into the boundless sea.
—
Whoooosh.
Raon clenched his fist as a hot current rose in his core.
‘My aura has returned.’
Not much—just enough to wield his sword freely again.
‘So it means I’m to fight only with swordsmanship.’
The message was clear. He was to face the first Head of House not with the overwhelming aura and superhuman strength he had in reality, but with swordsmanship alone.
‘Exactly what I wanted.’
He hadn’t entered the Chamber of Self to crush his opponent with the power he already possessed.
He came here to grow stronger—by any means.
‘Thankfully…’
Raon clicked his tongue as he saw the heat rising from the first Head of House’s blade.
‘He’s not using full power either.’
Judging from the aura, the opponent didn’t intend to overpower him with sheer force or body strength.
‘I wonder what kind of swordsmanship the first Head of House uses.’
The Rings of Fire and Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation were likely his own creations.
What kind of technique would a swordsman who forged such transcendent martial arts display?
Ssssshh!
The first Head of House raised his sword overhead and swung it down. Flames spiraled along the blade, drawing a brilliant arc.
‘Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation – Revolving Flame?’
The first sword technique was the Revolving Flame he often used.
‘But…’
Raon frowned.
‘It doesn’t seem special.’
He had expected something extraordinary from the creator of the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation, but it felt no different than usual.
‘Shall I block it with the same technique?’
Normally, he would counter with a different sword art, but this time he wanted to test his Revolving Flame against his ancestor’s.
Wooooong!
Channeling the essence of every sword he had mastered, Raon unleashed his own Revolving Flame.
‘Could I actually win from the start?’
Unlike the Head of House’s textbook execution, Raon’s Revolving Flame radiated scorching power. He felt a flicker of confidence.
Jjeooooong!
Their flames collided head-on, sending waves of heat in every direction.
‘I’m pushing through!’
Their aura was equal, but his mastery of flame control was superior.
He pressed harder, determined to break through—
‘Wait… what?’
Why was he the one being pushed back?
Even though he infused his technique with greater depth, the Head of House’s sword struck with superior force.
Kyaaaang!
Unable to withstand the fierce assault, Raon was driven backward.
Whoooosh!
The Head of House rolled his shoulders lightly, transitioning into a faster, sharper strike.
‘Crimson Slash…’
A technique focused on precision and speed. Raon was confident—he had practiced it countless times.
Thud!
He stepped forward with a heavy stance and unleashed his own Crimson Slash.
Hwaaaah!
He poured both Heavy Sword and Wind Sword principles into it, reinforcing power and heat.
Whoooosh!
His weighted slash met the Head of House’s molten one head-on.
Jjeeeeong!
A surge of mana spread between their blades, scarlet flames exploding across the arena.
‘What the hell…’
Raon gritted his teeth as his strike was devoured once again.
‘Why is it so strong?’
Even with added techniques, his attack was completely overwhelmed.
Kyaaaaang!
The force flung him backward, his sword gouging the ground.
Ssshhhh!
The Head of House advanced calmly, extending his sword once more.
Hwaaaaah!
A small branch bloomed from the blade, golden petals unfurling—Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation – Flame Blossom.
‘I have to cut this here.’
Revolving Flame, Crimson Slash, Flame Blossom—these were his foundation. He couldn’t lose all three.
‘A perfect Flame Blossom!’
Raon thrust his sword forward, a white blade sprouting fiery petals.
He added precision and explosive force, forming a sharper, deadlier strike.
Whoooosh!
The two Flame Blossoms collided. His flame fragments were twice as many—he felt certain this time.
But once again, his hope shattered.
Rumble!
The Head of House’s flames devoured his entirely, surging toward him.
‘How…?’
Even with twice the fragments and refined technique, he was being overwhelmed.
Shaaah!
The flames consumed his Flame Blossom and roared forward like a storm.
Ssshhhk!
He tried to evade, but his body reacted too slowly. His arm burned black, skin tearing from the pain.
Whooosh.
The Head of House, unfazed, shifted smoothly into the stance of Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation – Scorching Wind.
“Ha…”
Raon chuckled bitterly.
‘So this will keep happening, huh?’
He realized the duel wouldn’t end until he broke the Head of House’s swordsmanship.
‘But I like that.’
He came here to grow stronger. If this was training through repetition, he welcomed it.
“If you wish to surrender, say so first.”
Raon stepped forward, lips curling into a smile.
“Because I won’t stop even in death.”
—
Crack!
Raon was pushed back across the arena, heavy footprints marking his retreat.
‘I can’t win a single exchange.’
After countless clashes, he had yet to win even once.
‘It’s not a matter of realm or aura.’
The Head of House was using swordsmanship adjusted precisely to Raon’s level. It wasn’t power that defeated him—it was something else.
‘Why am I losing?’
He’d strengthened each technique, yet couldn’t pierce through.
‘What’s the difference?’
Frustration swelled. The Head of House offered no advice, merely preparing his next move in calm silence.
‘Sunset Slash, huh.’
A downward strike like the falling evening sun.
Raon mirrored it, embedding both Heavy and Swift Sword techniques.
Jjeeeong!
The moment their blades met, Raon was thrown back violently.
‘The twentieth time… or more?’
He had lost count of how many times he’d been overwhelmed by the same technique.
‘Next is Crimson Slash…’
He bit his lip as the Head of House prepared the familiar motion.
‘No combination worked before.’
He had already tried every mix of techniques, yet none succeeded.
‘If nothing works… maybe I should imitate him.’
If he couldn’t break through, perhaps following the Head’s exact movements would reveal something.
Wooooong!
He resonated the Rings of Fire, amplifying only the essence of Crimson Slash.
Ssshhhh!
Their blades clashed at the center of the training ground, shaking the arena like collapsing sand.
“…Huh?”
Raon widened his eyes—his sword was holding even.
‘Why?’
Why wasn’t he losing this time?
When he had overfilled his strikes with countless insights, he failed. But now, using only the pure form of the technique, he matched him perfectly.
‘So filling it to the brim isn’t always right.’
Even if one mastered countless sword arts, not every technique could bear all those essences.
‘The vessel overflowed.’
He’d tried to fit an entire pizza onto a tiny plate—it was bound to spill over.
‘Come to think of it, Grandfather never tried to cram everything in either.’
Glenn Zieghart combined Azure Sky Sword and Heavenly Thunder Art to forge Sky Piercing Thunder—each maintaining its distinct essence.
Every sword art had its own color; overloading it would only blur its brilliance.
Whoooong!
The first Head of House raised his sword again, conjuring a flaming wheel above his blade that spun down toward Raon’s neck.
‘Let’s try again.’
Raon mirrored the motion, focusing only on rotation, speed, and power.
Kwaaaang!
Their flames clashed fiercely, igniting the arena’s sand.
‘As I thought…’
He nodded, seeing his sword no longer being overpowered.
‘This is it.’
He had weakened his swordsmanship by forcing too many elements into techniques that were already complete.
While flexible, unrefined arts like Radiant Light Style could handle many variations, perfected forms lost purity when overloaded.
“……”
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on the first Head of House’s lips.
As if acknowledging the answer, he nodded—and the golden mountain of sand around them began to darken into shadow.