Chapter 1217
There was a specific conversation Glenn and Rector once had while analyzing the nature of blades back at Zieghart.
[What defines a sword? It is merely a tool. Avoid overcomplicating its existence.]
[The Patriarch is correct. Complexity only breeds difficulty. One should not view the Ten Thousand Swords as some mystical enigma.]
[Mastering a vast array of techniques is beneficial, yet every single motion must possess a core purpose when executed.]
[It is a simple truth. The resolution is already settled within your own spirit.]
When those words first reached my ears, their depth eluded me. As I matured, I reached a point where I felt certain I had grasped their intent, but I was mistaken. Even with my current level of cultivation, I had only been grazing the outer shell of the truth Glenn and Rector were pointing toward.
'A blade is just a blade.'
That truly summarized the essence. It is an instrument designed for the termination of a foe, and the resolve of the wielder is the governing force behind it. From the very beginning, a martial artist's willpower has been the singular alpha and omega of their path.
'The choice rests entirely with me.'
Whether the edge severed a physical throat or cleaved through the very fabric of a soul depended solely on my intent. The more profound the yearning to cut became, the more unstoppable the steel would be.
'My desire is to eradicate every trace of this deceptive celestial being before me.'
Raon clenched his teeth, elevating the resonance of his soul to a higher plane. Wooooong! The ten Rings of Fire began to vibrate with a ferocious, searing energy. The perfect cycle that had remained incomplete with nine rings finally closed, and a golden radiance, like a rising sun, ignited above his heart.
This magnificent blaze, birthed by the Ring of Fire, surged through his veins, saturating his physical form and his spirit with absolute authority.
Swooosh! Every scrap of martial insight he had earned in this life, combined with the theoretical concepts he had once only pondered, merged into a singular, rushing torrent within the ring’s circuit. A sensation of total sovereignty—the feeling that nothing was impossible—took hold of him.
Raon extended his hand, the one not gripping a hilt. The blade of his spirit manifested at his fingertips. This original technique, a fusion of his peak swordsmanship from his current life and the lethal assassination mastery from his previous incarnation, lunged forward in a streak of gold.
"What—!"
Derus Robert caught the movement, but he was a heartbeat too slow. Even a master of his caliber could not intercept a strike that had already crossed the threshold of execution. Raphael only seemed to grasp the danger as the blade bit into her neck, her eyes stretching wide in shock.
She attempted to shield herself with a burst of celestial divinity, but the edge he had manifested burned through that sacred power with transcendent heat.
Raphael crashed to the earth, her head separated from her shoulders by a solitary strike—a death far too wretched for one titled the Archangel of protection and healing.
"How...?"
Even Derus Robert appeared stunned by this impossible turn of events, standing motionless with his eyes fixed in a stare. On the surface, the hand of Priest Srude remained unmarked, yet in that moment, a jagged laceration tore across it as if sliced by an invisible razor, and dark blood began to leak out.
—Thi-this is insane...
Wrath gasped, seemingly paralyzed by the display of such a sword.
—What exactly did you just sever? What kind of blade is that!
His jaw hung slack, unable to process the reality of what he had witnessed.
'What kind of sword, indeed...'
Raon allowed a thin smile to touch his face as he contemplated the technique that had simultaneously extinguished both the physical and spiritual essence of the target.
'I shall name it the True Sword. Raon Zieghart Style, Tenth Form: True Sword.'
Having rediscovered the fundamental truth of the blade, he felt this was the only fitting title. Thud! Just as Raon finalized the name of his new art, the headless remains of Raphael toppled over.
The celestial body, once draped in an aura of divine nobility, crumpled like discarded refuse, sending a heavy, silent shockwave through the stillness of the Heavens.
"What... what just happened?"
"Why did Zilfen strike down Lord Raphael?"
"Murder? No, it shouldn't even be possible for a man like that to slay an Archangel!"
"What is the meaning of this..."
The denizens of the celestial realm were so paralyzed by the sight that they could barely form coherent sentences.
"You absolute maniac!"
"Seize that traitor!"
"Summon the entire guard!"
"We are under attack!"
As Vayph and the other celestial beings shrieked orders and signaled for reinforcements, hundreds of heavenly warriors descended from the Divine Land where Raphael had first appeared, brandishing armaments forged of pure radiance.
The angels encircled Raon, their blue eyes burning with a crimson lust for vengeance. At a single command from Derus, they would have skewered him instantly with their light-born spears.
Derus Robert’s hidden operatives within the Heavens also emerged, taking positions behind the angelic ranks. Unlike the celestial beings, they radiated a foul, dark energy unseen on the mortal plane, leveling weapons wreathed in black cinders.
"......"
Despite being trapped by hundreds of foes deep within their own territory, Raon remained composed. He slowly wiped the Archangel's blood from the edge of his hand. In that moment, he appeared more refined and regal than the fallen celestial corpse at his feet.
"You... you moron."
Vayph spat a sneer at Raon.
"Lord Raphael is the Archangel of protection and healing! She would never perish from a mere blade like yours!"
He broke into a grin, insisting that a decapitation was insufficient to kill such a being.
"He’s right!"
"An Archangel cannot be felled by a human's steel!"
"She is a master of manifestations! That was undoubtedly just a shell!"
"Exactly! She allowed the strike to land simply to expose your true motives!"
The angels clung to the hope that Raphael survived, mocking Raon’s efforts.
"She didn't die?"
Raon glanced at the surrounding host and spoke calmly.
"Then why is she still lying there in the dirt like a common insect?"
He gave the torso of Raphael a dismissive kick with his boot, his lips curling into a mocking grin.
"Th-that is..."
Vayph’s pale lips quivered. He turned back, casting a desperate, questioning look toward Derus Robert, pleading for an explanation.
"......"
But Derus Robert remained silent, his gaze fixed on the lifeless body. His frozen, bloodless expression confirmed the grim reality.
"Damn it all! Execute him! Kill that bastard this instant!"
Vayph gnashed his teeth and pointed a trembling finger at Raon.
"Aaaahhhhh!"
"Slay the fiend!"
"He is a devil in disguise! Wipe him from existence!"
The angels prepared to lunged, their weapons pulsing with violent holy energy.
"Hold."
Derus Robert lifted his hand.
"Stand down."
He stepped toward Raon, his voice carrying a frigid edge that caused the air to crystallize.
"It has been quite some time."
Raon walked forward five paces to meet Derus, who had already advanced ten. Since the gap in space meant little to a man of Derus’s power, Raon chose to face him with defiance.
"Derus Robert."
He spoke the name clearly, a frost-bitten smile playing on his lips.
"So, you were aware of my identity all along."
Derus Robert showed no further shock, merely nodding with a cold, analytical calm.
"You give off a putrid, sickening odor."
Raon stared at Derus and pinched his nostrils shut.
"That unique, filthy scent doesn't exist anywhere else in this world. I would have recognized you regardless of what skin you wore."
He waved a hand dismissively, suggesting the man should have scrubbed himself clean before appearing in public.
"Is that so?"
Derus Robert glanced down at his borrowed form and let out a dry chuckle.
"I suppose I should have put more faith in my own instincts as well..."
He clicked his tongue in regret while examining the gash on his hand.
"How did you manage it?"
Derus tilted his head slightly, as if the outcome was already decided and he was merely seeking information.
"The process of soul verification in this holy land... No, how did you slip through my fingers just a moment ago?"
He seemed far more preoccupied with how Raon had bypassed his personal soul detection than he was with the death of an Archangel.
"You were the one who instructed me."
Raon met Derus Robert’s icy stare and laced his fingers together.
"You taught me how to manipulate and deceive."
He spoke with a weight that bridged both his past and present lives, tilting his chin upward.
"Since you spent your life betraying everyone, it’s only fair that you are the one being tricked now."
Raon noted that returning a grudge was only natural, wagging a finger in the air.
"So, you have no intention of cooperating."
Derus Robert remained terrifyingly rational, even with his plans in ruins and his character insulted. Looking into those unwavering eyes, a cold shiver traced its way down Raon's spine.
"What is your next move?"
Derus Robert narrowed his eyes, noticing the slight tremor in Raon’s legs.
"The high-ranking celestials who served the one you just killed are already en route. In your current state, you cannot hope to withstand them, let alone me."
He released a suffocating killing intent, fully aware that Raon had exhausted his reserves to execute Raphael.
"Who knows? Maybe I didn't think that far ahead?"
Raon shrugged his shoulders, refusing to look away from the man's lethal gaze.
"I see. In that case..."
Derus Robert gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"Perish."
He raised his hand like a blade, mirroring the strike Raon had used on Raphael, and swung downward. A malevolent power surged from his palm, fueled by whatever he had sensed in Raon's previous attack.
As the strike accelerated toward Raon’s throat, the fabric of space itself began to fracture. From the center of the shattering dimension—which looked like a window being smashed into a thousand shards—a figure materialized.
"Raon!"
Evelyn emerged from the rift like a vibrant painting coming to life. She smiled brightly and snapped her fingers, causing the jagged fragments of reality to expand, revealing a line of familiar warriors.
"Remove your wretched hands from my grandson."
Glenn Zieghart, the peerless master of the continent, swung a blade that flashed with a brilliant blue light, severing Derus Robert’s arm in a single motion.
"Derus Robert! To encounter your face once more in such a place!"
Rector, the Sword Demon and Sovereign of the Holy Sword Alliance, bit his lip and carved a deep wound across the staggering Derus’s chest. He appeared perfectly attuned to his artificial limb, manifesting a sword aura even more potent than his legendary prime.
"Kahahahaha! Is the party finally starting? I was nearly bored to tears waiting for the signal!"
Balder let out a booming, villainous laugh, his whip-like sword extending to clear a path through the panicked angels.
"Palace Master! You have performed admirably!"
Burren offered a crisp bow toward Raon. He laughed with relief, as if the burden of acting as the temporary head of the palace had finally been lifted.
"Save the pleasantries for later! Focus on taking their heads first!"
Martha gave a characteristically fierce shout, cleaving through the disoriented celestials. Her blade-work had clearly reached a new level of lethality during her recent training.
"Raon..."
Runaan stepped out from the dimensional rift and held out two familiar weapons. They were the Heavenly Drive and the Wooden Ring Sword, the blades he had left in her care.
"I guarded them closely..."
Runaan mentioned that the swords had never left her side, offering a faint, soft smile.
"It is my turn to fight."
As she drew her own blade with that same quiet smile, a storm of pure white frost erupted, freezing Derus Robert’s minions along with their dark shadows.
"Waaaaaaah!"
"Defend the Light Wind Palace Master!"
"Wipe out Derus Robert!"
"Crush the enemy!"
The elite battalions of Zieghart poured through Evelyn’s rift, cutting down both angels and Derus’s followers with clinical precision.
"Krgh..."
Derus Robert gripped the gash in his chest with his remaining arm, spitting out a mouthful of crimson.
"You were asking how I planned to survive this, weren't you?"
Raon unsheathed the Heavenly Drive and the Wooden Ring Sword. His hands were weak and trembling, yet the blades felt as though they were a part of him, impossible to drop.
"I may not have had the answer, but it seems these people did."
He smirked, looking at the backs of his comrades—men and women who would gladly sacrifice everything for him.
"A war in a year's time? No."
Raon gazed down at Derus Robert’s contorted features with a frigid, razor-sharp smile.
"I am declaring war right now!"
