Chapter 1173
"There is no point in pursuing him?"
Bartius knitted his brows, clearly struggling to grasp Raon’s logic.
"Are you suggesting you actually know the destination of the Black Clan’s leader?"
His words came out with a slight tremor, betraying his sheer disbelief.
"Is that true?"
"How could such a thing be possible?"
The Blue Dragon Sirtiren and the Red Dragon Valasiur both fixed their gazes on Raon, their faces masks of bewilderment.
"Dragons possess an innate capacity to perceive the presence of their own kind."
The White Dragon Bursiarabi stepped through the dimensional threshold to stand alongside Raon.
"It is an evolutionary trait meant to prevent overlapping territories when establishing a new den. And yet, you have located the head of the Black Clan, someone who has successfully masked his trail even from us..."
He let out a dry, incredulous chuckle, remarking that with every passing moment, Raon seemed to transcend the limitations of a mere mortal.
"R-Raon Zieghart. Do you truly possess knowledge of Trosowr’s whereabouts? I implore you to speak!"
The Black Dragon Dariauran sounded desperate as he begged for Trosowr's coordinates. Unlike his fellow clan leaders, he appeared frantic, as if a personal catastrophe was unfolding.
"As I mentioned before, my instincts are functioning at an incredibly high level at the moment."
Raon offered a thin smile, casually rubbing the back of his neck.
"Furthermore, it stands to reason that you cannot sense him. Trosowr, the Black Clan’s leader, is no longer present on this physical continent."
He gave a small shake of his head, clarifying that dragonic senses were useless because Trosowr had crossed into a different realm.
"What?"
Bartius’s jaw hung slightly slack.
"Then does that mean..."
"Exactly."
Raon extended a finger toward Bartius, who remained the guardian of the dimensional key.
"The Black Clan’s leader, Trosowr, has sought refuge within another dimension. It appears he became aware of our intent."
Based on the fading echoes of mana still clinging to the trees, Trosowr’s departure was recent. He likely vanished the instant he felt the life forces of Igni Serpang, the Red Clan leader, and Azgoros, the Blue Clan leader, snuffed out.
"Blast! That slippery wretch!"
Dariauran, a member of the same Black Clan, slammed a fist down in a fit of rage, his teeth grinding together.
"Dariauran."
Bursiarabi, the White Dragon, cast a stern, frowning look at him.
"Was it not your responsibility to maintain a constant vigil over Trosowr?"
He let out a low, predatory growl, demanding to know why Dariauran had allowed his detection spells to lapse.
"I was not negligent! He simply executed a masterful escape!"
Dariauran shook his head frantically, adamant that the fault did not lie with him.
"I even degraded myself by flattering him just to keep my magic in place!"
He gnashed his teeth, clearly blindsided by the turn of events.
"Good grief, it is painfully obvious you failed to act with any competence."
Sirtiren exhaled a long, weary sigh.
"I saw this coming! I warned you all that he was unreliable."
Valasiur, the Red Dragon, made a sharp clicking sound with his tongue, lamenting that their cause was lost.
"Hmm, I wouldn’t go so far as to say we are finished."
In contrast to the agitated dragons, Burren remained poised, calmly wiping the blade of his sword.
"He’s right. That man over there hasn't lost his cool."
Martha pulled her lips into a smirk as she noted Raon's unwavering focus.
"To be honest, I can barely recall a time when he actually looked panicked."
Dorian gave a casual shrug, suggesting that if Raon ever truly lost his composure, the end of the world wouldn't be far behind.
"Ah, Raon. My dear Raon..."
Evelyn bit at her nails, her cheeks flushed with admiration, once again captivated by the way Raon stood like a pillar of stone amidst the frantic dragons.
"Trosowr is infamous for his malice even by Black Clan standards; we were foolish to underestimate him."
Bartius pressed a hand to his brow, acknowledging his own oversight.
"Raon Zieghart. I am asking you—tell us the way to find Trosowr."
He cast his blue eyes downward toward Raon, as if clutching at a final thread of hope.
"Trosowr holds the only remaining dimensional key, so it is likely the Great Lord has not yet been alerted."
Bartius tightened his lips, emphasizing the need for an immediate response.
"I do not actually know the specific method."
Raon looked down and shook his head.
"Pardon? Then why..."
Bartius gulped, his confusion deepening.
"I don't know the 'how' of it, but I can simply force that dimension open."
Raon’s eyes slowly opened as he unsheathed the Heavenly Drive.
"I can sense a frequency in the lingering mana here that matches the dimensional key bound to your spirit."
From the moment he stepped into this woodland and felt the ripples in the atmosphere, he was certain Trosowr had fled to a sub-space. Because the mana and spatial warping were still fresh, he believed he could tear into the pocket where the dragon was hiding. With a sharp motion, Raon lifted the Heavenly Drive high.
'I must sever the fabric of space.'
While the others might be blind to it, he could see the truth. Based on the alien mana flowing against the forest’s natural current, Trosowr hadn't managed to fully seal the gateway behind him.
'Target the space while following the current.'
Raon drew a deep lungful of air and brought the Heavenly Drive down.
Raon Zieghart Style Swordsmanship. Seventh Form, Void Slash.
A concentrated point of crimson mana surged forward, biting into the dimensional seam hidden within the chaotic energy. With a thunderous roar, the space caught by the edge of the Heavenly Drive ripped wide, revealing a swirling, ink-black abyss that looked as though it were crafted from shadows.
Despite the sheer violence of a strike capable of rending reality, not a single leaf was disturbed on the surrounding trees. It was a testament to Raon’s absolute mastery over his own power.
"This is madness..."
Bartius stared, his mouth agape.
"Did he... did he just carve open a dimension with a blade?"
He shuddered, unable to process the sight.
"That isn't mere swordcraft; that is high sorcery..."
Valasiur, the Red Dragon, swallowed hard as he looked into the dark void.
"Incredible! He is a genuine freak of nature!"
Sirtiren, the Blue Dragon, raised a hand with a wide grin, clearly entertained by the impossible feat.
"Thank the stars!"
Dariauran, the Black Dragon, let out a breath of pure relief, glad that total failure had been averted.
[What—what is the meaning of this!]
A cry of pure shock erupted from within the lightless dimension. The toxic miasma bleeding from the rift began to settle, exposing Trosowr, the Black Clan leader, who had been lurking within.
He was in the middle of manifesting a blue lance, wreathed in venomous energy. It was clearly a communication spell intended to warn the Dragon Lord of the intrusion.
"That isn't going to happen."
Evelyn smiled as she pressed her palms together, neutralizing Trosowr’s message just as it reached completion. Much like a mage specialized in pursuit, she proved just as proficient at severing the lines of communication.
[How did you manage to find this realm!]
Trosowr tried frantically to rebuild the spell, but Evelyn stayed one step ahead. His massive eyes pulsed with fear as he tried to slam the dimensional door shut.
"Sirtiren! Valasiur!"
At Bartius's command, the Blue and Red dragons flooded the area with natural mana, reinforcing the breach Raon had created with the Heavenly Drive.
[Seal!]
Trosowr roared in the dragon tongue, trying to mend the rift, but Bursiarabi and Dariauran threw their own weight against the magic, keeping the wound open.
[Dariauran! Have you lost your mind!]
He snarled at Dariauran, who was physically straining to keep the crack from closing.
"I've found my mind, actually! We are purging the ancient, senile fools who are poisoning the human world!"
Dariauran clung to the edges of the rift with everything he had, looking immensely relieved to have Trosowr cornered.
"You are Trosowr, the sovereign of the Black Clan."
Raon stepped through the opening maintained by the dragons, coming face-to-face with the leader.
[Raon Zieghart! It was you!]
Trosowr lifted his head, which was slick with bubbling poison.
[The mortal who slew Igni Serpang and Azgoros!]
As the head of the Black Clan, Trosowr was larger than a fortress, yet in this moment, he failed to inspire awe. Just as Wrath always described them, Trosowr looked like nothing more than a lizard scurrying across a wasteland.
[I can sense your unprecedented strength. However, you have walked into a trap.]
Trosowr ground his teeth, his entire form becoming shrouded in a thick, black toxic mist.
[This entire dimension is a manifestation of my venom. Any human within it will be dissolved into nothing!]
He took a massive breath, preparing to wipe Raon from existence.
[Perish as a puddle of slush... Gahk!]
Trosowr’s voice cut off abruptly just as he was about to exhale his lethal breath.
[When... when did that blade...!]
His massive frame shook as he realized a leaf-patterned sword was already buried deep in his throat, having struck before he even registered the movement.
[Not... not yet! A wound of this size won't...]
As Trosowr attempted to yank the Wooden Ring Sword free and restart his toxic blast, a burst of azure frost erupted from the blade's tip. It instantly encased his skull and the area around his Dragon Heart in ice. The frost expanded with a violent rush!
As the biting cold surged, the poison Trosowr had gathered was snuffed out, sinking back into the shadows before it could be unleashed.
-Th-this is...!
Wrath’s eyes widened as he gazed upon the flash-frozen Trosowr.
'Exactly.'
Raon gave a small nod as he reclaimed the Wooden Ring Sword.
'I launched the blade using the Whispering Wind and then channeled the Silver Aurora. Now that I have truly stepped into the domain of the Soul Sword, the efficacy of all my techniques has multiplied.'
Unlike Wrath’s version, his Silver Aurora typically lacked the power to freeze everything in its path. However, with his newfound ability to read the weight of emotions and his advancement in the Soul Sword, he had generated enough localized cold to immobilize a dragon without even focusing on Silver Aurora training. The result was potent enough to startle even him.
-Silver Aurora...
Wrath gulped as he stared at the dragon's snow-white, frozen head.
'Not bad, right?'
-Bad? It's atrocious! Do not dare call that pathetic frost Silver Aurora! It is nowhere near the proper standard!
Wrath shook his head violently, voicing his sharp disapproval.
'But I froze the dragon just like you wanted, didn't I?'
Since he couldn't freeze an entire dragon in one go like Wrath, he had strategically placed the sword near the Heart and used the Silver Aurora there. He couldn't quite understand why Wrath was so irritated.
-You are annoyingly efficient... No, just be quiet!
Wrath gnashed his teeth, telling Raon to drop the subject.
'Fine, have it your way.'
Raon gave a quiet laugh as he returned both the Heavenly Drive and the Wooden Ring Sword to their sheaths. Since Wrath was always a bit temperamental, he simply accepted the outburst for what it was.
"You... you actually froze the Black Clan leader with cold alone? Your skill exceeds my own!"
Sirtiren, the Blue Dragon, let out a hollow laugh, admitting that Raon's control over ice seemed superior to her own.
"You are a human who becomes more terrifying the more I learn of you. No, you aren't a human; you're more like a demon king."
Valasiur, the Red Dragon, squeezed his fist tight, his eyes burning with a competitive fire.
"We actually made it...!"
Dariauran collapsed onto the ground, wiping sweat from his brow as if he had just escaped the executioner's block.
"You should remember that your head is only still on your shoulders because of Raon Zieghart."
Bursiarabi, the White Dragon, gave a dismissive snort toward Dariauran.
"The outcome is what matters."
Bartius gave Dariauran a reassuring pat on the shoulder before moving toward the frozen Trosowr. He reached out, and with a low hum, a golden dimensional key emerged from the dragon's icy remains.
"The third and final piece."
Bartius set his jaw, stating that they finally possessed the means to reach the Dragon Lord.
"How much time is required?"
Raon turned to Bartius, asking how long it would take to bridge the gap to the Lord.
"It will take some time to stabilize the energy, as Trosowr utilized the key to anchor this sub-space."
Bartius narrowed his eyes at the shimmering artifact.
"Regardless, I should be able to manifest the gateway by tomorrow's dawn."
He clenched his fist, vowing to have the portal ready before the first light of day, even if he had to exhaust his entire reservoir of power.
"You should use this time to recover as well."
Bartius nodded, noting that they would need to combine every ounce of their collective strength to stand a chance against the Dragon Lord.
"No."
Raon gave a firm, resolute shake of his head.
"I intend to face him alone."
He rested his hand on the hilt of the Heavenly Drive, his eyes fixed on the key hovering near Bartius’s chest.
"The Lord is in a completely different league than the clan leaders! There is a reason he treats them like mere servants!"
Bartius scowled, as if urging Raon to stop being reckless.
"Bartius speaks the truth. I respect your power, but the Lord is... different. Fundamentally so."
Sirtiren shook her head, insisting that a group effort was the only way.
"If I find myself overwhelmed by the Dragon Lord, I will accept your assistance. But until that moment..."
Raon slowly closed his eyes, then snapped them open.
"Grant me the right to fight him one-on-one."
His crimson eyes didn't show arrogance, but a deep-seated certainty as a smirk played on his lips.
"Because as I stand here now, I do not believe there is anyone I could lose to."
A chilling, murderous intent radiated from Raon as he thought back on the long, bitter history he shared with the Dragon Lord.
"Before the sun breaks the horizon, I will present to you the carcass of the largest lizard in the world."
