Chapter 1226
Raon gradually peeled his eyes open, the motion so languid it felt as if the flow of seconds had ground to a halt.
'...Where am I?'
Despite his vision being unobstructed, the environment was shrouded in a pitch-black void, as if his lids were still sealed tight. There were no signs of life, nor could he discern the outlines of any familiar objects like a bed or a chair.
'The conflict with Derus Robert definitely reached its conclusion, didn't it?'
The memory of severing Derus Robert’s very essence using the Life Beyond Death technique of the Soul Sword remained vivid, as did the moment he hurled the condensed sphere of mortality back at his foe. He recalled drifting into unconsciousness while bathed in Glenn's accolades, yet he had no inkling of his current coordinates.
'Why haven't I woken up in my private quarters or Lord Federick's estate?'
It was a bruising realization, but he rarely emerged from major theater-of-war engagements unscathed. Usually, his post-fainting recovery took place in the annex or under the care of the Ragged Saint Federick. Finding himself in this void was an anomaly.
'Wait. This sensation... I’ve experienced this before. Ah!'
Raon rubbed his chin, a soft realization escaping his lips as he delved into his memories.
'Is this a manifestation of the mental world?'
He hadn't grasped it immediately upon regaining awareness, but the environment suggested he was within a spiritual landscape. He likely hadn't noticed the transition because his soul had attained a density and presence equal to his physical form.
'It appears the Soul Sword isn't merely a combat style; it actively facilitates the evolution of the soul.'
Simply wielding the Soul Sword seemed to yield immense spiritual progression. His soul, which he previously assumed had reached its zenith, had surged further, now possessing senses as sharp as those of his flesh.
'The Ring of Fire hitting the tenth star played a massive role as well.'
With the Ring of Fire achieving its tenth star, his physical vessel, his spirit, and even his internal energy had undergone a profound metamorphosis. It was no hyperbole to claim his fundamental martial foundation had been elevated to an entirely new tier.
'However...'
Raon slowly panned his gaze across the emptiness.
'Where exactly is this?'
His personal mental landscape was never this sterile, but it also wasn't this oppressive. This wasn't his own inner world; he was standing in the psyche of another.
'I need to return to reality and assess my physical state... Hmm?'
As Raon attempted to stand, flexing his wrist to test his mobility, the ground beneath him gave a slight tremor. The surface wasn't firm; it yielded with a soft, marshy texture.
'What is this substance?'
Casting his eyes downward, he noticed faint glimmers of dark red light piercing the gloom.
'There are countless pieces. They look like... bricks?'
Shards radiating a dim crimson hue were scattered across the expanse. It resembled a lavish tapestry woven from fish scales. While it suggested an interior space, the sheer scale of the landscape was too vast to be contained within a building.
'Then what could it be...'
Just as Raon squinted to get a better look at the crimson fragments, the roaring sound of a conflagration erupted from behind him.
'Hmm?'
Spinning around, he saw a warrior manifest from the absolute dark.
'The First Patriarch...?'
His radiant blonde hair was matted and stained a deep scarlet with gore. His powerful frame was marred by horrific gashes where muscle had been stripped away. Even his legendary blade, which typically roared with a violent inferno, held only dying embers that flickered on the verge of extinction.
"Haah..."
The First Patriarch of Zieghart. The peerless combatant who always maintained an aura of absolute calm was now gasping for air, looking as though he were standing on the threshold of death. Raon swallowed hard, staring at the warrior’s battered back.
'What on earth happened? How could a man like him be reduced to this...'
The First Patriarch was the most formidable entity Raon had ever known, spanning the realms of humans, demons, and angels. To see such a figure pushed to the brink of collapse was staggering.
'Wait! If the First Patriarch is in such a dire state...'
A sudden realization struck Raon, and he looked back at the ground beneath him.
'Is it possible that this is...'
Understanding dawned regarding the dark red shards covering the floor, and he inhaled sharply.
'The Demonic Dragon of Destruction!'
The catastrophic beast that had descended to annihilate the world, only to be stopped by the First Patriarch, was the very thing he was standing on. The "shards" weren't bricks or carpets; they were the scales of the fallen dragon.
'This makes total sense.'
The Demonic Dragon of Destruction was a nightmare that had nearly consumed the entire world. Even for the First Patriarch of Zieghart, surviving such a clash would inevitably come at a staggering cost.
'But...'
Raon knit his brows as he watched the First Patriarch retch up black blood.
'This doesn't match the histories I've heard.'
He had always assumed the First Patriarch had led a legendary band of heroes to slay the dragon, but in this mental vision, the man stood entirely alone.
'Perhaps the battle was so agonizing that his psyche can only reconstruct his own struggle.'
Reflecting on it, the war against the Demonic Dragon must have been so harrowing that merely maintaining one's own existence would have required everything he had.
'But then...'
Raon pressed his lips together, observing how the First Patriarch refused to lower his guard or release his hilt, despite the dragon’s obvious death.
'Why is the ancestor still maintaining a combat stance when the enemy is dead?'
The dragon lay lifeless beneath them, yet the First Patriarch remained coiled like a spring.
'Could it be...'
As Raon took a step forward, a perfect white sphere, unblemished and pure, rose out of the darkness. Above it, an arc formed like a sliver of a moon. It was an eye. A black iris paired with a white pupil—a complete inversion of a human eye—stared down at the First Patriarch.
The First Patriarch gave a weary nod, as if he had been expecting this arrival, and turned his head. His features were revealed in the gloom. He possessed the commanding presence of a general and the refined grace of a hermit-scholar.
Though he had the signature golden hair and red eyes of the Zieghart line, he radiated a surprising warmth. The First Patriarch nodded toward Raon, as if confirming that Raon had witnessed the truth. Those eyes, heavy with agony and exhaustion, were locked onto him.
"...I have seen it."
Raon gave a solemn, deep nod in response.
"......"
The First Patriarch flashed a smile that seemed almost boyish and out of place given his wounds. Seemingly satisfied, he turned back to the new threat. He lifted his shaking hand, raising his ember-choked blade once more. Swooosh!
Just as the First Patriarch was about to collide with the inverted eye, the world began to spin and blur into a vortex of brilliant blue light.
'I understand.'
Raon bit his lip as the image of the First Patriarch’s back dissolved into the void.
'I know what message you were trying to send me.'
He let his eyes close again, fully grasping why his ancestor had summoned him to witness that horrific moment.
"What..."
As Raon’s eyes fluttered open again, his vision was obscured by a round, blue shape.
"Is this a second mental layer?"
He wondered if he had transitioned from the First Patriarch’s world into another spiritual realm.
-A mental world?
The blue sphere pressed against his face and snorted in derision.
-You’re talking out of your tail!
'Wrath?'
The blue object was indeed Wrath. It appeared the demon had been sitting directly on Raon's face.
-If you're babbling like this, you must have done something ridiculous again!
Wrath scowled, practically begging Raon to just stay still for once.
"This place is..."
Raon shifted his gaze and finally spotted the familiar patterns of the ceiling. He was back in his own room in the annex.
'It wasn't a hallucination.'
Seeing the pristine room, kept spotless by the diligent maids, a sense of peace finally washed over him.
-Of course it wasn't a hallucination!
Wrath hovered over him, huffing.
-You pulverized that wretched Derus Robert using your own strength!
The demon nodded emphatically, conceding that the feat was something to be proud of.
'That isn't quite right.'
Raon moved his hand slightly. The sharp twinge in his wrist and arm confirmed that his body was still in the process of mending.
'I could never have achieved that victory in isolation.'
The Shadow Agents and the Black Market who located the Land of Clouds, Evelyn and the mages who executed the perfect spells at the perfect moments, and the Zieghart warriors who arrived just in time—all of them were essential. Without that collective effort, he would never have stood before Derus Robert.
'And at the final moment, it was my grandfather and your support that tipped the scales.'
When he targeted Derus Robert’s soul, Glenn had provided the path, and Wrath had anchored his resolve by promising to handle the fallout. Because of them, he reached a new level of understanding and successfully severed his enemy's soul.
-Aaaaahhhhh!
Wrath grabbed his own head and shrieked.
-The humility demon has returned!
He shoved his face close to Raon’s, baring his teeth.
-I’m well aware of how humble you are, so just take the win for once!
Wrath flailed his arms, demanding he stop the self-deprecation.
-Shout it out! Say 'I’m the best'! Claim the credit for yourself!
Since the outcome was a success, Wrath poked at his head, urging him to indulge in some well-earned vanity.
'Indulge in vanity?'
Raon closed his eyes, considering the demon's suggestion.
'Perhaps he’s right.'
He had a habit of deflecting praise. Having finally eliminated his nemesis, Derus Robert, maybe it was time to acknowledge his own role as Wrath suggested.
'I did it.'
Raon squeezed his weakened hand into a fist.
-Louder! A toddler could make more noise than that!
"I did it! I took down Derus Robert. By my own hand!"
He punched the air with his fist, announcing his triumph to the room.
-Now that’s more like it!
Wrath nodded, looking satisfied at last.
-You should emulate this King and carry yourself with more...
Just as the demon was about to launch into a lecture on his own greatness.
[You have accomplished a feat that transcends the ordinary.]
[You have successfully severed the soul of an absolute entity who will be remembered in continental history.]
[You have executed a flawless infiltration mission.]
[<Wrath> has recognized you as the preeminent human.]
[All stats have been increased by 150 points.]
[Characteristics...]
A cascade of system notifications materialized before both Raon and Wrath. The section detailing his achievements was four lines long—the most extensive list yet—and the point distribution was unprecedented.
-Ah...
Wrath’s jaw hit the floor as he read the 150-point stat boost.
-One... one hundred and fifty? This is insanity! How can a single event grant that many points!
He shrieked that the system had clearly suffered a mental breakdown.
'Well, you were the one who gave the recognition.'
Raon pointed at the fourth line of the message.
-No! I only said that because I was tired of your acting! This King did not officially endorse this!
Wrath’s teeth gnashed together. He wailed that the system was clearly unable to read the room.
'It works out for me, regardless. But...'
Raon swept the notifications aside and looked toward the entrance. He heard the sound of several people approaching, followed by the door being thrown open with enough force to nearly snap the hinges.
"Raon!"
"Palace Master!"
"My son!"
"Young Master!"
"Raon..."
"You little brat!"
A warm smile touched Raon's lips as he looked at the group, recognizing every single one of them by the sound of their voices alone.
'Right now, I want nothing more than to see them.'
