Chapter 1193
Nine circles of crimson brilliance flared as they rotated frantically around his heart. Amidst these Rings of Fire, which radiated a heat far more blistering than any smithy's bellows, a soft vermillion light began to take shape.
The budding tenth Ring of Fire fought a desperate battle to establish its own orbit, struggling to avoid the nine established rings that were currently vibrating in a mad resonance.
Raon scrutinized the sword techniques of Glenn, which crashed toward him like the relentless surges of the tide, while simultaneously attempting to manifest that tenth circle above his lifeblood. He lashed out with a counter-maneuver devised in a heartbeat, his knuckles white as he gripped the Heavenly Drive with enough force to splinter the hilt.
However, Glenn’s simple wooden branch pulverized Raon’s counter, shunting the Heavenly Drive aside with ease.
With his blade knocked out of alignment, the tenth ring—which had been more than halfway solidified—lost its cohesion. It dissolved into a shower of scarlet embers and vanished. A moment later, Raon took a heavy blow to the skull from Glenn’s plunging branch and tumbled to the dirt, appearing completely insensate.
"Tsk."
Glenn let out a short click of his tongue, seemingly unbothered and familiar with the outcome. He lowered the branch, an implement that appeared utterly indestructible in his hands.
"Until tomorrow."
He offered a casual wave, as though merely concluding a brief morning chat, and began his stroll back toward the annex.
"Gah..."
The instant Glenn cleared the training space, Raon’s eyes snapped open. He sat up, nursing the knot forming on his head where the wood had connected.
"Is it just me, or is he swinging harder?"
It felt as though Glenn, realizing just how much punishment his grandson’s body could endure, had dialed up the impact. Had any other Transcendent warrior taken that direct hit to the crown, they would have been bedridden for days. Anyone below that realm would likely have suffered a shattered skull and instant death.
-It appears that ancient fossil has discovered that pummeling you is a fine way to pass the time.
Wrath nodded in agreement, sensing that the ferocity behind Glenn’s branch had indeed reached new heights.
-Truly, if one finds a plaything that refuses to break regardless of the force applied, one is bound to keep playing!
The demon king mocked him, suggesting Raon had been reduced to nothing more than Glenn’s personal stress-relief toy.
'I suppose I can see why he feels that way.'
Raon brushed the grime from his palms and stroked his jaw thoughtfully.
'To be honest, I’m not exactly bored either, considering I have a punching bag that keeps talking back no matter how much I vent on it.'
He directed a pointed, intense stare toward Wrath as he spoke.
-Wh-what? Why are your eyes on the King of Essence while you mention a punching bag? Surely you don't mean...!
Wrath’s eyes bulged in pure shock.
-Are you implying the King is your plaything?
He flailed his small hands wildly, desperate to dismiss the ridiculous notion.
-Absurdity! Such blasphemy!
'Think about it. Whenever I’m feeling stagnant, you stir up trouble and get suppressed, and whenever I hit a wall, you provide the necessary attributes and stats.'
Raon gave a nonchalant shrug, inviting the blue spirit to review their history together.
-Eh? I... uh...
Wrath found himself momentarily speechless, his lips trembling as he searched for a retort.
-You villain! You dared to call the King a friend!
The demon king shook with indignation, his complexion turning the shade of a ripe strawberry. It was the first time in a while he had been genuinely worked up.
'I'm only teasing.'
Raon let out a warm, genuine laugh and reached out to pat Wrath’s back.
'But I meant it when I said having you around makes things better. It's never dull.'
It was true that Wrath had provided the mechanical means for his growth, but his value went beyond numbers. To Raon, Wrath was his closest confidant, a grumpy older brother, and a fussy younger sibling all rolled into one. The foolish monarch had become a pillar of support; the thought of him disappearing genuinely pained Raon.
-Hmph...
The anger vanished, replaced by a deep blush of embarrassment. Wrath coughed into his hand to hide his flustered state.
-Naturally! You would be quite lost without the King’s presence!
He gave a haughty sniff, deciding to be magnanimous for once.
'My thanks.'
Raon offered a faint, sincere smile.
-Regardless, why do you insist on forging that tenth ring while clashing with that Nadine-bread-munching fossil?
Wrath drifted down to eye level, his tail twitching with curiosity.
-Logic dictates it would be far simpler to concentrate on the ring while you are alone and undisturbed. Why fracture your focus so idiotically?
The demon king scowled, unable to grasp the rationale.
'When I'm sparring with the Old Man, I'm not actually splitting my focus—I'm compressing it.'
Raon gave a small chuckle and gestured toward the air.
'Solitary meditation can only push one's mental limits so far.'
He shut his eyes and stilled his lungs. He forced the Rings of Fire into a violent resonance, observing his internal world with absolute clarity. Whooom! The nine circles whirled around his heart at a dizzying velocity, pouring out heat that rivaled a miniature star.
'Let's try again.'
Between the microscopic gaps of the spinning rings, Raon summoned a sliver of flame as thin as a silken thread. He attempted to carefully extend this spark to complete the tenth orbit, but it collided with the erratic vibrations of the existing rings and shattered like brittle glass.
'Once more.'
He conjured a fresh spark, but this attempt was thwarted when the eighth ring surged at an irregular angle, snuffing out his progress.
"Sigh..."
Raon remained undeterred by the failure. It was only when the silver light of the moon saturated the clearing that he finally ceased his efforts and opened his eyes.
'Do you see? It’s far more difficult this way. I couldn't even manage a quarter of the progress I made during the spar.'
He shrugged at Wrath, noting that without the pressure of Glenn’s presence, his efficiency had plummeted.
-What!
Wrath tilted his head, his confusion deepening.
-How does that make sense? Why is your concentration sharper in the heat of battle?
'Because I am sharpening my intent by treating my grandfather as a true adversary.'
The smile faded from Raon’s face as he gripped the hilt of the Heavenly Drive.
'It isn't just about the Ring of Fire. It’s a method of cultivation designed to achieve total immersion in the act of combat.'
The higher he pushed his focus through the rings, the more the world seemed to slow down, revealing the hidden flow of reality. Forcing the rings to form while dodging Glenn's strikes was a brutal, effective way to hone that perception.
-Your entire existence is nothing but one long training session.
Wrath let out a weary sigh.
-The world labels you a prodigy of the blade, but from the King’s perspective, you are simply a training-obsessed lunatic.
He knit his brows, convinced the public’s nickname for Raon was a gross understatement.
'I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks for understanding.'
Raon flashed a small grin and rose to his feet.
-I know that look. You’re going to spend the entire night training again, aren't you?
Wrath groaned, lamenting the loss of his peaceful rest.
'No, while training is important...'
Raon dusted off his leggings and flexed his fingers, testing his grip. He looked up at the moon-drenched sky and gave a firm nod.
'I have another destination tonight.'
"Phew!"
Krein wiped the perspiration from his chin and lowered his practice blade.
"Excellent! Now that is what I call a productive session!"
He grinned, looking quite pleased with his day's work.
"Is it?"
Dorian walked over, blinking in confusion.
"Listen, if that training-obsessed monster were here, we wouldn't have had such a relaxed time. He’d probably have dragged us back to that godforsaken mountain for some 'focus enhancement' nightmare by now."
Krein stretched his arms out wide, reveling in the freedom brought about by Raon being occupied with Glenn.
"Well, you aren't wrong."
Dorian glanced around nervously before nodding in agreement.
"If the Palace Master were around, 'comfortable' is the last word I'd use for our training."
He clicked his tongue, sharing Krein’s sentiment.
"Being comfortable isn't always a virtue."
Burren spoke up, even as he continued to rhythmically swing his sword.
"Standard training becomes easy once the body adapts. Raon’s methods, however, evolve constantly. That’s why they never stop being effective."
He rubbed his chin, acknowledging the logic behind Raon’s harsh regime.
"True, but everyone needs a breather now and then."
Martha smirked and shook her head.
"A horse can't run forever without proper maintenance."
She shrugged, looking more relaxed than usual thanks to the influence of Envy’s power.
"I personally find the Palace Master's unique drills more beneficial than just standard forms."
Mark Goetun tightened his grip on his fist, noting how Raon's methods seemed to strengthen the very foundation of their martial arts.
"Zzz..."
Runaan was leaning against a nearby wall, fast asleep. She seemed entirely indifferent to the conversation. She had become so adept at sleeping while standing that she almost seemed to blend into the stonework.
"Since Raon will likely be occupied for some time, we should brainstorm some new drills ourselves."
Burren suggested, looking toward the rest of the Light Wind Palace Swordsmen.
"It’s getting late, so let’s head in for tonight. Starting tomorrow—"
Before he could finish dismissing the troop, the heavy doors of the Fifth Training Ground groaned open.
Raon walked in with deliberate, heavy footsteps.
"P-Palace Master?"
"Why are you here at this hour...?"
"Wait, look at his face. Something’s wrong."
The swordsmen scrambled, taken aback by his sudden arrival. Raon said nothing. He marched toward the raised platform, a palpable chill radiating from his silhouette.
"Fall in!"
Burren realized instantly that this wasn't a social visit; this was the Light Wind Palace Master. He barked orders, and the swordsmen quickly formed ranks in front of the stage.
"..."
Raon stood in silence, his crimson eyes scanning the line of warriors with a sharp, icy intensity.
"Two weeks have passed, and yet I see no progress. In fact..."
Raon let out a breath that misted in the air.
"I see regression. Did you truly believe that swinging your swords with such a 'comfortable' mindset would lead to growth?"
His gaze locked onto Krein and Dorian, as if he had overheard every word of their previous conversation.
"Eek!"
"Ugh..."
The two trembled, suffocated by the cold pressure Raon was emitting.
"I had intended to briefly check in and leave, but I see that was a mistake. Everyone, move. We are heading to North Grave Mountain exactly as you are."
Raon’s lips curled into a chilling smile.
"Focus enhancement training begins now."
He stomped his foot, signaling there would be no time for preparation or protest.
"What? Right now?"
"But we’ve been working all day...!"
"This is too sudden! We aren't ready!"
The swordsmen sputtered in a panic.
"We start this instant. The last person to reach the peak will be granted the privilege of a private, one-on-one session with me. One..."
As Raon began the countdown, the blood drained from the swordsmen's faces.
"Aggghhh!"
"Move! Run for your lives!"
"If you're last, you're a dead man!"
"That’s not a training session, that’s an execution!"
The swordsmen bolted toward North Grave Mountain, terrified of being the focus of Raon’s "individual attention."
"Hmph."
Raon nodded, finally satisfied with the frantic energy in their eyes.
-I can't believe you...
Wrath sighed, utterly exasperated.
-You absolute lunatic! You’re just taking your frustration out on these poor kids!
The demon king shouted, annoyed that Raon had put on such a terrifying act just to vent his own stress.
'Sometimes a leader has to provide a necessary jolt to the system.'
Raon shrugged, acting as though he were doing them a favor.
-Jolt my frozen backside! You know perfectly well they've been training diligently even while you were gone!
Wrath gnashed his teeth, pointing out that not a single person had actually regressed.
'Perspective is a funny thing, isn't it?'
-Don't lie to the King! You saw their progress just as clearly as I did!
The demon king groaned, finding Raon's personality increasingly difficult to handle.
-It's as clear as day. You just wanted to feel better by terrorizing your subordinates! You truly are a madman...
'Heh.'
Raon simply whistled a quiet tune, avoiding Wrath’s gaze.
"Raon!"
A flash of movement appeared before the platform. Evelyn, her purple hair tied back securely, stood there with an unusual fire in her eyes.
"I’ve finally uncovered it!"
Clearly agitated and excited, she grabbed Raon’s hand, her cheeks flushed with the gravity of her discovery.
"I know what Derus Robert is planning!"
