Chapter 1015
Chapter 1015
Chapter 1015
“Ah!”
Mustan’s gaze stretched wide as the insignia of House Robert suddenly caught his attention.
“Could this truly belong to Derus Robert?”
He gulped nervously, utterly stunned by the revelation.
“Undoubtedly.”
Rector uttered a faint click of his tongue, swiftly undoing the parchment tied to the limb of the pale hawk.
“That should be impossible! The sole people outside our circle aware of this sanctuary are Lord Raon and those close to him!”
A tremor ran through Mustan’s pupils, utterly baffled by how their whereabouts could have been uncovered.
“Derus Robert has gathered archangels and elite champions beneath his command. They command countless mystic arts, meaning our detection was merely postponed until now.”
Rector exhibited no visible shock, having long concluded that the sanctuary of the newly formed Holy Sword Alliance would eventually be exposed.
“That is true enough.”
Mustan rubbed at his temple, acknowledging that hiding from an archangel was an unrealistic prospect.
“Even so, why does Derus Robert persist in displaying the heraldry of House Robert?”
He cocked his head, scrutinizing the insignia stamped onto the foot of the document.
“Did not Derus turn his back on both the Five Kings and House Robert when he chose to align with the Five Demons?”
“The explanation is straightforward.”
Rector casually snapped his finger against the paper, a cold smirk gracing his face.
“He is proclaiming that he personifies House Robert entirely on his own.”
“That he alone embodies the house?”
Mustan stared blankly, struggling to grasp the concept.
“It signifies that so long as he draws breath, Robert endures—regardless of whether their halls fall to dust, their lands burn, or their lineage is extinguished.”
Rector clicked his tongue, noting that the message laid bare Derus’s boundless ego.
“Such a foul wretch…”
Mustan ground his teeth, repulsed by the thought.
“Quite so. He is loathsome and overflowing with hubris, yet he wields the might to back such grand pretensions.”
Rector scowled, clutching the coiled document with a firm grip.
“Derus demonstrated terrifying supremacy when he overcame Lecross, the sovereign of Owen revered as the Silent Sword Master.”
King Lecross held a level of martial prowess that was by no means beneath his own. That Derus could display such staggering dominance against a transcendent of that caliber made his arrogance understandable.
“Setting aside the hermits among the transcendents, those remaining across the land capable of definitively bringing him down are limited to Glenn Zieghart, the Heavenly Demon, and the previous sovereign of the Holy Sword Alliance.”
Unrolling the weighty correspondence, Rector remarked on how exceptionally few souls walked the earth who could genuinely halt Derus Robert.
“Wh-what are the contents?”
Mustan’s eyes shifted restlessly, burning to uncover the meaning of the missive.
“Now that the Black Tower lies ruined and The Fallen has perished, he is summoning a summit of the Five Demons. An in-person gathering.”
Rector gave an unruffled nod, as though he had already deduced what the parchment would demand.
“What if we act as though the dispatch never reached us and refuse to appear, just as we did previously…?”
“Such a tactic is no longer viable.”
Rector’s brow lowered as his gaze lingered on the pale hawk whose neck had been snapped.
“This carries the weight of an ultimatum.”
“An… an ultimatum?”
Mustan felt his jaw quivering.
“Indeed. He is certainly aware that this correspondence is already in my grasp. The very fact that he dispatched a creature capable of breaching this sanctuary’s protective boundary—despite possessing countless alternative channels beyond our borders—proves his intent.”
Crumpling the parchment within his hand, Rector let out a low chuckle.
“Should we decline to attend this council, he will march directly to our doorstep.”
His face darkened, remarking that peaceful discourse would be out of the question at that point.
“Yet would launching a strike against us under these circumstances not be sheer madness?”
Mustan let out a harsh, disbelieving breath.
“The Derus Robert I have encountered and observed is thoroughly capable of carrying out such madness. He does not act like a mortal, but rather like an abomination. Loose ends are something he never permits.”
Rector offered a resolute nod, unshakably convinced.
“Even without that threat, making an appearance remains the wiser choice. We must glean what designs Derus Robert harbors, if only to shield that boy.”
Releasing a long, weary sigh, he reaffirmed that he would attend the council of the Five Demons for Raon’s benefit.
“I-in that case, shouldn’t we notify Lord Raon at once!”
Mustan lifted an arm, urging that the youth be alerted to the unfolding danger.
“Burdening him with this would merely spawn needless anxiety. No disaster is imminent, so ease your mind.”
Rector gave Mustan’s shoulder a comforting pat before turning back toward the estate.
“A strange feeling…”
Mustan’s fingers shook as his gaze traced Rector’s retreating form beneath the gathering twilight.
“…an ominous dread hangs in the air.”
Having informed his household of the fresh assignment entrusted to him, Raon commenced his preparations for the journey to the Five Divine Orders.
“The Five Divine Orders? Considering only a pair remain standing, wouldn’t calling them the Two Divine Orders be far more fitting?”
Evelyn silently pushed the door inward and stepped across the threshold.
“You should knock prior to walking in.”
Raon shook his head in resignation, stowing garments and travel necessities into his subspace pouch.
“Why bother with courtesies like knocking between the two of us?”
Evelyn gave a dismissive flick of her fair hand, brushing aside the formality.
“Regarding this expedition to the Five Divine Orders…”
Drawing near, she playfully nudged his shoulder with her own.
“Might I accompany you?”
“You wish to travel with me?”
Raon stared at Evelyn, his eyes widening in bewilderment.
“For what reason?”
“You intend to execute both the Thespian Emperor and the Queen of Swords should the Five Divine Orders refuse to align with the Five Kings, do you not?”
Evelyn offered a subtle shrug, hinting that her spells might prove useful during such a clash.
“Wait…”
Raon took a dry breath, gazing squarely into Evelyn’s striking violet eyes.
“How could you possibly be aware of that?”
He was thoroughly perplexed as to how she had accurately deduced the lethal outcome, given that he had solely spoken of holding an audience with the Five Divine Orders.
—Eeeek!
Wrath let out a startled yelp, retreating behind Raon’s back.
—It appears this vile woman can now peer directly into your thoughts!
The demon quivered in dread, insisting she must have unlocked some horrific new sorcery.
“How? It is written plainly across your expression!”
A gentle, teasing curve formed upon Evelyn’s lips.
“We have shared countless evenings together. Reading the look in your eyes is second nature to me!”
“That phrasing is entirely misleading!”
Raon snapped his head from side to side in vehement denial.
“Refrain from speaking in such a manner! Everyone will jump to the wrong conclusions!”
He gripped Evelyn firmly by the shoulders, desperately imploring her to watch her words.
“Even this feels wonderful.”
A rosy blush washed over Evelyn’s cheeks, appearing thoroughly delighted merely to have his hands resting upon her.
“Good grief…”
Raon brought a palm against his own forehead, feeling an impending headache as the exchange spiraled out of control.
“Setting that aside, I truly wish to accompany you. I am certain I could render assistance.”
Evelyn wove her fingers together, speaking with earnest sincerity.
“Your aid would naturally be invaluable. However…”
Raon let out a soft breath, observing the radiant anticipation shimmering within Evelyn’s gaze.
“The wounds you suffered have not fully mended.”
In contrast to his own flesh and mind, which had achieved complete restoration, Evelyn’s mental fortitude had not yet stabilized entirely. Given that mental composure served as the cornerstone of any mage’s craft, prioritizing her recuperation remained paramount.
“You noticed?”
Evelyn’s eyes widened in mild shock.
“It is written plainly across your expression.”
Raon offered a subtle grin, playfully turning her own words back against her.
“Haah, since you have seen through me, I suppose I have no counterargument.”
Evelyn moistened her lips briefly in defeat.
“In that case, keep this close in my stead.”
From within the fold of her maid attire, she produced a compact squirrel talisman. While its appearance was endearing, the small ribbon adorning its ears and the fabric around its frame showed rough, unrefined stitching.
“And this would be…”
“A small token of fortune for your journey. The young miss and I crafted it together.”
Evelyn smiled brightly, explaining that while she had shaped the body of the squirrel, Sia had contributed the garments and the decorative ribbon.
“I am grateful.”
Raon accepted the plush squirrel with both hands. Had she presented something made entirely by her own hands, he would have politely declined out of lingering unease; however, knowing Sia had poured her heart into it left him with no choice but to cherish it.
“Now that I think about it, you have been spending quite a bit of time beside my sister lately. Have the two of you grown close?”
“The young miss and I share an effortless harmony.”
Evelyn beamed, noting how naturally their exchanges flowed.
“I… is that how it is?”
Raon let his gaze drift toward the adjacent wall.
‘Could it be that their emotional maturity resides on the same plane?’
Considering Evelyn had spent her youth consumed entirely by thoughts of retribution, her worldly understanding outside the realm of sorcery was remarkably sparse, allowing her to connect seamlessly with Sia, whose temperament remained delightfully innocent.
“Take great care on your journey!”
Evelyn remarked that she would await his return within the secondary residence before stepping outside his quarters.
—You ought to cast that abomination into the nearest fire immediately.
Wrath glared with deep suspicion at the delicately adorned squirrel charm.
‘Why the fuss? Do you sense an anomaly within it?’
—I detect no tangible malice, yet it must undeniably bear a vile hex! It will surely broadcast every step you take!
The diminutive monarch violently shook his head, passionately demanding that Raon discard the trinket without delay.
‘Out of the question. My sister helped fashion this, did she not?’
Parting with it was utterly unthinkable, fully aware of the profound sorrow Sia would endure should she discover its disappearance.
‘The remaining belongings can be organized come morning. Perhaps I should dedicate this evening to mental visualization?’
Just as he prepared to close his eyes and picture a battle against the Thespian Emperor, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed toward the annex.
‘That pace does not belong to Grandfather.’
His initial thought had drifted to Glenn, yet the rhythm of the stride belonged to someone else—though certainly a familiar presence. Tap, tap. Lifting his gaze to the glass, he caught sight of Martha rapping her knuckles gently against the pane.
“What brings you to my window?”
Raon pushed the frame open to greet Martha, whose features, unlike her typical harsh demeanor, appeared unusually softened.
“There is a favor I must ask of you.”
Martha lowered her head by a fraction, entreating him to step outside for a brief discussion.
“I shall await you beside the water.”
Securing the latch once more, Raon exited the building and strolled toward the bank of the lake where Martha stood waiting.
“What is so urgent that brought you out here at this hour?”
Rolling his shoulders in a relaxed motion, he prompted her to speak her mind.
“That regimen for refining aura we carried out recently…”
Martha pressed her lips together firmly, referring to the grueling cultivation they had maintained over the past seven days.
“Would you be willing to resume it?”
She bent forward, declaring her desire to undergo the process this very instant.
“You wish to endure that agony right now?”
Raon’s lips parted in sheer disbelief, completely blindsided by her request.
“I do. Not merely tonight; I wish to sustain this conditioning even while we journey toward the Five Divine Orders.”
Martha tightened her grip until her knuckles paled, expressing her desperate urge to cultivate greater strength without delay.
“Why push yourself to such an agonizing degree?”
A quiet groan slipped past Raon’s lips.
“Truthfully, the sheer torment of it is nearly unbearable.”
The method he had devised for strengthening aura was essentially an adaptation of brutal interrogation arts repurposed for martial growth. Even as an individual’s internal energy expanded, the searing agony of alternating frost and flame never diminished. The other warriors had practically cheered at the prospect of this deployment solely to escape that excruciating torment, making her voluntary submission entirely unforeseen.
“Tolerating physical anguish of that measure is simple enough.”
Martha bit down hard upon her lower lip.
“Beside the turmoil tearing at my mind, such pain is insignificant.”
She released a ragged breath, admitting that while she wished to conquer the anguish in her heart, she lacked the power to do so.
“…Understood.”
Raon blinked slowly, the underlying motive driving her hunger for training becoming painfully clear.
“With the master of the Black Tower extinguished and The Fallen eradicated, our collision with the Sovereign of the White Blood Religion draws near.”
Her trembling fingers drifted downward, coming to rest upon the hilt of her blade.
“I must attain whatever strength I can before that day arrives. Even should my life be forfeit, I swear I will sink my steel into that monster at least once!”
She dug her nails into her palms until droplets of crimson welled to the surface, determined not to carry a single shred of regret to her grave.
“Haaah…”
Raon let out an extended, weary breath.
‘There is truly no dissuading her.’
Had this concerned any ordinary grievance, he would have commanded her to rest, yet the shadow hanging over her mother made dismissing her plea impossible.
“Take your place on the turf.”
Raon gestured toward the soft patch of grass beside the shimmering lake.
“You have my deepest thanks!”
Bowing with genuine gratitude, Martha seated herself upon the designated spot.
“Prepare yourself. The potency this time will surpass the previous sessions.”
Gathering the dual currents of Glacier and the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation at the tips of his fingers, Raon channeled the contrasting forces straight into Martha’s meridian pathways.
“……”
Though she was undoubtedly enduring unimaginable suffering, Martha initiated the circulation of her internal energy without permitting a single cry to escape. The beads of perspiration drenching her forehead stood in stark contrast to her profound silence, serving as a testament to her unyielding resolve.
‘The Sovereign of the White Blood Religion…’
Raon tightened his jaw, lifting his eyes toward the starless expanse above.
‘That abomination will prove vastly different from either The Fallen or the Black Tower Master.’
Though she wielded devastating sorceries, her very foundation was forged in pure martial supremacy. Confronting her head-on would present a peril far distinct from facing the previous two adversaries.
‘Furthermore…’
He clicked his tongue in silent frustration as he observed Martha persevering through the searing torment to refine her power.
‘If I am to liberate this girl’s mother, merely slaying the Sovereign of the White Blood Religion will not suffice.’
Subduing such a terror alive to extract the trapped soul made the difficulty of the forthcoming struggle terrifyingly steep.
—As you bore witness before, that blood-drenched harpy possesses the horrific trait of magnifying her might through the consumption of lifeforce.
Wrath scowled, his expression filled with visceral revulsion.
—By this hour, her power has surely swelled to even greater heights.
‘Nothing in this world comes easily. When all is said and done…’
Raon clamped his fingers over the wrist bearing the six gleaming bracelets, grinding his teeth together.
‘My only path forward is to achieve absolute strength.’
Two days later, in the pale glow of daybreak.
Raon stood atop the raised platform of the fifth training grounds, casting his gaze across the assembled combatants of the Light Wind Palace.
Unlike during regular drills, the eyes of the Light Wind Palace warriors were devoid of warmth, as though stripped of all human sentiment. They had achieved the discipline required to master their internal power and emotions to match any crisis.
“As previously stated, this venture carries the distinct possibility of triggering an all-out confrontation against the Five Divine Orders. Maintain your battle readiness even within your dreams.”
Having outlined the resolve demanded for their expedition, Raon descended from the dais.
“Move out.”
Parting the fluttering hem of his Black Dragon Coat, Raon strode through the formation of his warriors. The members of the Light Wind Palace fell into rank behind him, projecting a dense aura that shielded their commander like an impenetrable fortress. Instead of proceeding toward the primary gates of Zieghart as was their habit, the unit advanced directly toward the inner spire of the magic tower.
“All coordinates and arrangements for our passage to Barene stand ready.”
Berbin, serving as the deputy master of the magic tower, inclined his head to indicate that the portal linking them to Barene, the heart of the Five Divine Orders, was fully primed.
“I appreciate your swift cooperation in this matter.”
Raon offered a respectful gesture toward Berbin, fondly recalling the deputy’s cheerful banter alongside Rimmer.
“It posed no great hardship. The authorities in Barene relayed the spatial anchor points themselves and ensured our pathway remained unimpeded.”
Berbin waved his hand casually, framing the endeavor as routine labor.
“Should complications arise on their soil, transmit word immediately. We shall dispatch reinforcements without hesitation.”
He brought his palms together in the manner of weaving a spell, underscoring the weight of his promise.
“Your sentiment alone brings great reassurance.”
Raon responded with a gentle, appreciative nod.
“We shall initiate the sequence.”
At Berbin’s signal, the surrounding mages unleashed an intricate formation humming with dense magical energy. From the hollow circular aperture, a brilliant azure radiance erupted, carving open a massive gateway traversing the fabric of space. The shimmering blue expanse undulated like a curtain, seemingly reflecting glimpses of Barene beyond the veil.
“The threshold is open for your passage.”
Berbin signaled his approval, affirming that crossing the glowing barrier would deposit them instantly within Barene.
“My thanks to you all.”
Offering a final bow to Berbin and the assembled spellcasters, Raon stepped across the threshold of the blue gateway. Feeling warm motes of brilliance wash over his senses, he closed his eyes briefly. When he parted his lids, he was standing within a sprawling hall lined with magnificent tapestries and carpets.
“Greetings to the Master of the Light Wind Palace.”
Before Raon could shift his stance, a formal greeting resonated from his left flank. Turning his head, he observed a mature figure draped in pristine white vestments offering a courteous bow.
“I am Mekein, humble attendant to the Thespian Emperor.”
“It has been some time.”
Raon inclined his head toward the figure identifying himself as Mekein.
“Truly? You still recall my presence?”
Mekein’s eyes flared with evident astonishment.
“You left a distinct impression.”
When they had crossed paths in the past, Mekein had served as the personal aide to the Thespian Emperor, leaving a memorable mark with his unflappable and composed demeanor.
“Ah…”
Momentarily caught off balance, Mekein swiftly regained his professional poise and lifted his gaze.
“We stand currently within the central arcane spire of Barene. Given the duration since your prior visit, perhaps you would care for a tour of the city before our formal discussions begin…”
He raised a welcoming hand, offering to guide Raon through the wonders of Barene.
“That will not be necessary.”
Raon shook his head, noting the sharp, emotionless glint within the eyes of the Light Wind Palace troops emerging steadily behind him from the spatial gate.
“My immediate desire is an audience with both the Thespian Emperor and the Queen of Swords.”
His fingers closed around the faintly humming hilt of Heavenly Drive, his lips parting to deliver a final, chilling statement.
“There are numerous matters we must settle between us.”
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