TRAIGS (Novel) Chapter 311

N/T: Translation made by our friend 'Irving'. A big round of applause for him :)

C 311

 Raon narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the rugged walls as if they were freshly shaved.

"The Kingdom of Knights, Owen...."

What a fitting name.

As he got closer to the vigorous energy that matched the name "Kingdom of Knights," a powerful force reminiscent of surging waves was building up. It wasn't the power of individual swordsmen but the collective strength of an assembled army.

"You came to welcome us, I presume?"

Rimmer pointed towards the gate with a wry smile. Following his hand, Raon's gaze shifted, revealing a young man and a middle-aged man standing in front of the massive gate, seemingly capable of accommodating giants.

"They are..."

As soon as Raon saw their unchanged faces, their names immediately came to mind.

They were none other than the third prince who had come to Zieghart five years ago, Greer de Owen and Duke Tartan.

"Greetings, Destructive King of North!"

Upon the arrival of Prince Greer and Duke Tartan, they kneeled on one knee and lowered their heads. It was the utmost respect they could show from their own kingdom.

"It's been a while."

Glenn nodded and gestured for Prince Greer and Duke Tartan to rise.

"It seems to have been about five years since we went to Zieghart."

"You've grown so much. Time has certainly passed."

"Oh, no! Compared to young master Raon, I'm still just a novice!"

Prince Greer blushed at the unexpected compliment and pointed to Raon who stood behind them.

"Ah, well."

Glenn cleared his throat and patted Prince Greer's shoulder. It was an unexpectedly gentle and kind touch, a departure from Glenn's usual demeanor.

"Yes. Although I think he wouldn't mention it, young master Raon once saved my life."

Prince Greer recounted the time when they fought the White Blood religion near the hills of Cameloon. It was their first real battle with the Blade of Requiem.

"I didn't even know that had happened."

Glenn turned back for a moment, narrowing his eyes. His gaze seemed to question why he hadn't been told.

"That child doesn't speak unless it's necessary."

"Although I've felt this before, young master Raon is a person who brings comfort to the soul. Different from those who only pretend to be humble."

"Right, he might appear quiet, but I suppose you can think of it that way."

Glen cleared his throat again and patted Prince Greer's shoulder with a bit more force. Prince Greer's expression showed how much he admired Glenn, a look like he might die of happiness.


Looking at Glenn's smiling face and Prince Greer's delighted expression, Raon tilted his head with a faint smile.

"Surprisingly, they get along well."

Oddly enough, the two of them were conversing like old friends reuniting after a long time. It was a strange occurrence.

"Leaving that aside, their martial skills have certainly improved."

Raon turned his head back. As he looked at Burren, who was marveling at the city walls, Runaan, who absentmindedly gazed at the sky, and Martha), who was engrossed in studying, he smiled.

"Their growth is even more dazzling."

Compared to when they met in Cameloon five years ago, Burren, Runaan, and Martha had climbed higher, even if it was only a little, than Prince Greer.

They had advanced faster than Prince Greer, who relied on the full power of Owen's Kingdom to push him forward.

Moreover, those three didn't have any intention of stopping. Whether for themselves or their comrades, Burren, Runaan, and Martha were driven by an insatiable desire to become stronger.

Until they could use the sword field creation, their passion wouldn't fade, and the gap between them would continue to widen.

"His Majesty, the Destructive King of North, is truly remarkable. Hearing about his victory over the White Blood religion Leader and Tacheon alone made my blood boil."

Prince Greer chuckled, trying to maintain the good atmosphere, while recounting Glenn's achievements.

"Is that so."

However, even as he heard his own praises, Glenn's complexion remained composed. After releasing Prince Greer's shoulder, his gaze shifted once again.

"Well, let's not stand here chatting. Shall we go inside? His Majesty is waiting."

"Ah, I suppose so."

Duke Tartan, sensing the atmosphere, gave a faint smile as he placed his hand on Prince Greer's shoulder. Prince Greer realized his misstep and stepped aside.


As the massive gates split open, a fierce energy surged from the royal city like flames.

It was the energy emanating from the knights who were lined up before the gate, ready for action.

"They're strong."

Raon thought that perhaps it wasn't a bad idea to be in the royal palace. Each of the knights standing in formation, one by one, was a master in their own right, possessing formidable strength even if they were called "experts."

"You did well coming."

Even the other Six Kings' heirs aside, if he could spar with these knights, it would be advantageous.

"Young master Raon."

Just as he was building up anticipation, Prince Greer approached from the side. His gaze had matured more than before, but his smiling face remained unchanged.

"Are you alright? I was quite worried after hearing the news of your abduction."

Seeing Prince Greer express concern about his well-being upon their first meeting, it seemed his personality hadn't changed.

"Yes. I was lucky."

"Luck, you say. Others might think that, but my judgment differs."

Prince Greer's blue eyes held a deep, oceanic tint.

"I know just how strong and wise young master Raon is, as well as how sinister Eden and the White Blood religion are. If it were only luck, young master Raon might not be here right now."


A bit regrettable.

Raon's eyebrows slightly furrowed. Unfortunately, Prince Greer was giving him the proper acknowledgment he deserved.

Why are you disappointed?

Wrath's voice came, as if amused.

Shouldn't you be happy that he's recognizing you?

"But then it would be difficult to have a proper fight with the prince."


"By now, Prince Greer has likely learned Owen's secret technique. He wouldn't easily reveal it even if we had a sparring match."

Prince Greer already knew he wasn't a suitable opponent. In his current state, even if they sparred, there was a high chance Prince Greer would hide his secret technique.

"The best opponents to draw out the sword art are those who underestimate you."

Ever since Raon's kidnapping, rumors had spread about the splendor of the Light Wind squad swordsmen, attracting condescending gazes once again.

He had hoped to step on the arrogant heirs of the Six Kings while nurturing his sword art in camaraderie. However, considering Prince Greer's expression, it didn't seem like it would be easy on Owen's side.

"Have you greased your head with oil or something? How is everything going so smoothly?"

Wrath sighed, seemingly frustrated.

"Prince, have you been well all this time?"

"I'd like to say that I've been doing well, but there have been quite a few dangerous situations. The White Blood religion seems to be everywhere. Before, I..."

Prince Greer mentioned that he had been continuously fighting against the White Blood religion and that he felt nauseated just thinking about the bloodshed. As they continued chatting, they found themselves inside the heart of the royal city.

They stopped in front of an iron gate adorned with a red carpet that looked like a raised sword.

"This is His Majesty's Audience Chamber."

Duke Tartan raised both his hands and indicated the door. The look in his eyes showed just how much he respected the current king.


Raon swallowed a dry mouthful as he observed the majestic iron gate. From the inside, he could feel a sharpness honed by centuries, as if only blades had been sharpened for hundreds of years. It was a formidable energy comparable to Glenn's.


Duke Tartan knocked, and the Audience Chamber's door gently swung open, revealing its interior.

In front of warm-looking brown pillars, knights stood, a different breed of strong individuals from those Raon had seen so far. They were the elite guards of Owen Kingdom, the mightiest shield protecting the king, the Royal Guard of Owen Kingdom.


Passing through the wall of knights exuding a formidable aura, a middle-aged man seated on the central throne came into view. Blond hair and blue eyes. He had a similar aura to Prince Greer, yet sharper and more imposing.


Raon bit his lip as he looked at the middle-aged man.


Although the middle-aged man wasn't releasing his aura, Raon's arm muscles tensed. The energy that naturally emanated from him was already reaching the sky, like a breath of air.

Those with lesser martial power couldn't sense it, but those who had reached the level of a Master or beyond like Raon couldn't help but swallow dryly as they looked at the middle-aged man.

"So, it is you."

Wrath looked at Leckros and laughed.

"Not quite as inspired as Glenn, but his martial power is properly built."

Wrath nodded, a tinge of admiration in his voice. Receiving such recognition from Wrath meant that Leckros's martial power had reached the level that even heaven could acknowledge.

"Please come in."

Leckros rose from the central throne and descended to the lower platform. This was something a king would never do, but he did it for the sake of treating Glenn properly.

"It's been a while, Destructive King of the north."

"Yeah, it's the first time since the war. It's been quite some time."

Leckros and Glenn exchanged faint smiles as they faced each other. The rumor about Glen and Leckros having a good relationship seemed to be true.

"I heard that you defeated both the White Blood religion leader and Tacheon simultaneously. The rumors weren't false. It seems you've risen to new heights that are beyond catching up."

Unlike the sharp aura of his supremely refined aura, Leckros had a soft impression and a gentle voice. Just looking at him brought a sense of ease.

"You flatter me. Even the Silent Swordmaster is unrecognizable compared to back then."

Glenn nodded his head vigorously as he looked at Leckros. It was a sign of genuine admiration.

"Indeed, it's I who should be flattered. These days, my sword seems to have a mind of its own as I age."

"Boasting about reaching a new realm."

"Isn't there only you who would recognize something like this?"

Leckros lowered his head and gave Glenn a tap on the back. His gaze, however, was first directed not at Sheryl, Roenn, Rimmer, but at Raon.


Leckros's blue eyes widened into ovals.

"Are you Raon Zieghart?"

"I apologize for the belated greeting. I am Raon Zieghart, squad vice-leader of Light Wind squad. Your Majesty."

Raon placed his hand on his chest and bowed respectfully.

"I heard you're one year younger than the third prince, so you're 19 years old, I assume?"

"That's correct."

"I heard rumors about you, but to think you've reached Intermediate Master at 19. No, it's not just that. If you fight with determination, you'll exhibit more than just that level of martial power."

Leckros rolled his tongue in disbelief.

"So, you managed to hold out in Eden's den. There was a reason for it, I see."


"Well, well, an Intermediate Master level at 19. That's quite the achievement. You're indeed a promising talent."

Raon's face turned slightly red as he looked at Leckros who had recognized his accomplishments.

"Your Majesty, your praise is too much..."

"I'm not one to mince words, Zieghart. The current state of the world demands talents like you."

Leckros leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest.

"In any case, let's take a seat and talk."

Leckros gestured to the chairs beside the throne. As Raon, Glenn, and Leckros took their seats, a significant discussion was about to unfold.

"Intermediate Master at 19 years old..."

Even the Royal Guards who were standing in front of the pillars seemed astonished by Raon's achievements, and their stoic expressions cracked as they let out low murmurs.

"I thought our third prince wouldn't be outdone anywhere, but that child is on a whole different level, isn't he?"

Leckros turned his gaze back to Glenn and let out a frustrated sigh.

"With a grandson like that, you must feel assured."

He offered a faint smile, tinged with envy.

"Not quite like that, he's just a hardworking kid."

Glenn waved his hand dismissively, his voice more authoritative than before, reminiscent of when he first met the prince.

"Not quite, I'd say. If that child continues to grow like this, even the balance of the six kings and the five demons might be disrupted."

Glenn looked at Raon, his mouth agape, unable to hold back his astonishment. The look in his eyes wasn't one of jealousy or envy, but rather a cheerful gaze. It seemed to be in line with his broad-minded personality, as expected from what they had heard.

"Kukh! You probably don't know. Among the so-called prodigies, only a tiny fraction actually shine. There's still a long way to go for that kid."

Glenn clenched his fist to his mouth and coughed dryly, then squinted his eyes as his voice trembled slightly, whether from disliking the praise or something else.

"You're still strict as ever. Maybe that's why he's turned out that way."

Leckros gazed at Raon with a gentle smile, his tone softer compared to Glenn's.

"Keep striving forward. Facing a formidable martial artist like him will be a great pleasure."

"Thank you."

Raon lowered his head again.

"Would you like a cup of tea? We have some good tea leaves from the western region."


Glenn nodded in agreement with Leckros's suggestion.


"Yes, Your Majesty!"

"Escort the guests from Zieghart and show them around the palace."


The prince turned and addressed Zieghart's group.

"Please follow me."

Before following the prince, Raon turned around and caught a glimpse of Glenn and Leckros smiling at him. Glenn's smile was unusual and intriguing, as if it was the first time he had seen him smile like that.


As they walked down the corridor, Wrath furrowed his brows.

"There's another one coming."

He licked his lips as he gazed outside.

"A bright yet eerie presence. More so than that guy from earlier..."


He stopped himself from answering.

Suddenly, his heart raced, cold sweat trickled down his forehead, and a chilling shiver ran down his spine.


Amidst the bustling corridor of the palace, there was only the sound of a single set of footsteps. The sound that he was so familiar with and didn't want to hear reverberated in his ears.


His jaws chattered, causing his upper and lower teeth to collide violently. Clenching his fist until his knuckles turned white, blood seeped out from his tightly gripped hand.

Raon clenched his teeth and slowly raised his head. Amidst the swordsmen dressed in blue uniforms, one man was approaching.

Silver hair, icy blue eyes, and a face that seemed like it had never seen the sun, with porcelain white skin and sharp features.

Derus Robert.

That face, unforgettable even after death, was drawing closer. 


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