## Chapter 1293
'The Archangel of Death and Dominion...'
Raon narrowed his gaze, carefully repeating the title Wrath had just uttered.
'Sariel?'
The juxtaposition of death and dominion sent a localized shiver crawling down his spine.
'Setting aside dominion, why is an archangel associated with the concept of death?'
He knit his brows, finding Archangel Sariel’s paradoxical moniker difficult to reconcile.
-It is quite straightforward.
Despite claiming it was simple, Wrath was visibly disturbed, his lips pulled into a tight line.
-That bastard treats the souls of others like clay. He possesses the power to slay mortals and consume their essences, or strip away their will to turn them into mindless puppets with fabricated personalities.
The demon king ground his teeth, describing Sariel’s unique and terrifying capabilities.
'He manipulates souls at his whim?'
Raon exhaled a hollow breath, blindsided by an ability he hadn't even considered.
'Is such a thing even feasible?'
If these claims were accurate, it implied Sariel wielded an authority over the soul that rivaled or even surpassed the Soul Sword technique utilized by Glenn. Even for a celestial being of that rank, it felt like a violation of natural order.
'No matter his status as an archangel, he shouldn't be able to completely bypass the laws of causality!'
-Naturally, there are boundaries.
Wrath rubbed his chin, his expression sharpening.
-The proof is that the coward couldn't even graze my essence! It means his reach failed against the sheer magnitude of my soul!
He shook his rounded fist, recalling how Sariel had opted for a swift retreat the moment they crossed paths.
'Is that so?'
Raon gripped the armrest of his seat, his mind racing as he processed this.
'Does that imply Sariel’s control is limited by the scale of the target? Perhaps he can only subjugate those whose soul realm is inferior to his own?'
It stood to reason that an unconditional power to rewrite souls couldn't exist without some tethering logic. If it were truly limitless, he would be a god in the flesh. As Wrath suggested, there had to be a catch.
-That is a likely deduction. This king’s soul is far more expansive and resilient than that feathered nuisance’s.
Wrath gave a sharp nod, agreeing with the logic.
'Alternatively, there might be a cap on the quantity of souls he can hold, or perhaps he is restricted to manipulating humans.'
-Incorrect.
The demon king dismissed that theory with a firm shake of his head.
-That winged pest forced my own subjects to take their own lives! Even devouring his marrow wouldn't quench my fury!
The raw, murderous intent radiating from Wrath finally made sense to Raon. Sariel hadn't just fought Wrath; he had turned the demon king's own people into instruments of their own destruction.
'Perhaps he requires a bridge—an emotional or mental synchronicity. Given that he integrated into high society by listening to confessions and alleviating burdens, that seems like a strong possibility.'
Raon pieced together the fragments of Chad’s intelligence and Wrath’s personal history to form a clearer picture.
'The fact that he ignores the common folk and focuses solely on the aristocracy suggests a twisted sense of pride. He likely views even the nobles as nothing more than disposable playthings.'
-Y-you’re right. Every time I encountered him, despite being a pariah, he carried himself with an insufferable arrogance.
Wrath stammered slightly, his nose wrinkling in irritation.
'What's bothering you?'
Raon tilted his head, noting the demon king's sour expression.
-It’s nothing! It just galls me that you’re piecing together things this king missed with such limited data!
Despite telling Raon not to worry about it, Wrath’s forehead remained deeply creased. He was a peculiar demon king, to say the least.
-That brain of yours is always overworking!
He clicked his tongue, offering a remark that hovered somewhere between a compliment and a jab.
'I'll take that as a thank you.'
Raon gave a small smirk and dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand.
'If Sariel’s influence relies on emotional or mental resonance, I should be able to safeguard myself without much trouble.'
With the authorities of the seven demon kings at his disposal, fabricating a false emotional front was a simple task.
'The real danger lies in a direct confrontation of soul realms.'
The rank of archangel was not merely a title; it represented a massive spiritual presence. Unlike Wrath, Raon’s own soul realm was undoubtedly smaller than Sariel’s, making a head-on collision extremely risky.
-Correct. That pigeon didn't gamble his way into the rank of archangel. Even for a monster like you, he would be a mountain. However...
Wrath looked Raon over once more, his expression turning solemn.
-If you keep that cursed Ring of Fire spinning, you won't fall.
The blue embers in Wrath's eyes began to blaze with renewed intensity.
-A soul fortified by that Ring will never kneel to the likes of a demon king or an archangel!
---
'My soul...'
Raon sat cross-legged on the elevated platform of the grand training grounds, his eyes closed in deep thought.
'Has my spiritual essence truly expanded enough to rival an archangel?'
He could sense the shift within himself. As the Ring of Fire advanced to its tenth revolution and his mastery over the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation and Glacier reached the 11-star mark, it wasn't just his physical power that had ascended; his spiritual core had grown exponentially.
'And yet...'
He found it hard to believe he was playing in the same league as the beings who sat atop the celestial and infernal hierarchies. To him, demon kings and archangels were still transcendent entities that existed beyond the horizon of human capability.
Wrath’s assertion that their souls were now on equal footing felt surreal.
-Hmph! It is merely the realm of the soul!
Wrath snorted, lifting his chin with a boastful air.
-In terms of actual combat prowess, you are still leagues behind!
He delivered a spectral swat to the back of Raon’s head, warning him not to let ego cloud his judgment.
'I'm well aware. That’s exactly why...'
Raon’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
'I haven't stopped my refinement.'
Ever since Chad’s report regarding Sariel, Raon had sacrificed sleep for three consecutive days to focus entirely on his training.
-Refinement?
Wrath looked at him with a confused scowl.
-You’ve done nothing but sit there like a statue! You’ve even cut back on your meals! What kind of training is this?
He ground his teeth, convinced Raon was making excuses.
'This is the most vital training of all.'
Raon let out a measured breath.
'The tempering of the soul.'
Having focused so heavily on the physical aspects of the blade recently, he was now prioritizing the resonance of the Ring of Fire and deep meditative visualization. Against a foe who specialized in soul manipulation, he needed to forge his mental landscape into an impenetrable fortress.
'Your encouragement gave me the clarity I needed to explore my mental image more deeply.'
When Wrath had declared three days ago that his soul wouldn't buckle, it had allowed Raon to enter a deeper state of consciousness. He could feel it now—a soul so dense and fortified that no external force could easily rattle it.
'I might even manifest a new type of weapon.'
The corners of Raon’s mouth curled upward as he visualized a blade forming within his inner world.
-A new weapon? Explain!
Just as Wrath leaned in, his curiosity piqued.
"Lord Regent!"
The door to the training grounds burst open as Chad, the leader of the Shadow Agents, hurried inside.
"I have secured further intelligence!"
Chad held up a hand stained with fresh ink, indicating he had new data on the archangel. The heavy shadows under his eyes suggested he had been working without respite.
"Report."
Raon hopped down from the platform, meeting him halfway.
"The gravity of the situation is worse than we feared."
Chad bit his lip, his voice tight with concern.
"It isn't just the Sarion Kingdom anymore. The entire surrounding territory is firmly under the archangel’s thumb. Royalty, nobility, and even the King himself have been reduced to puppets who move only at his whim."
He ran a hand through his hair, his voice reflecting his disbelief.
"The number of cities and territories swearing fealty to him is growing by the hour. His shadow is spreading like a plague. Furthermore..."
Chad’s fist tightened. This was clearly the part that bothered him most.
"We’ve lost all contact with our operatives and the Black Market spies. Even those embedded in noble houses—who should have been perfectly camouflaged—seem to have been found out and consumed."
He let out a ragged sigh, clearly at a loss for how their security had been breached so thoroughly.
"I see."
Raon remained remarkably composed, unlike the agitated Chad.
'It confirms he can read minds.'
The moment he heard Sariel extracted secrets and manipulated souls, he suspected telepathy or mind-reading. The total blackout of their intelligence network confirmed that Sariel was weeding out anyone with hidden motives.
'A direct approach is out of the question.'
If Sariel could pluck thoughts from the air, he would sense Wrath’s presence or Raon’s intent immediately and vanish. A traditional confrontation would be a failure before it started.
"I... I honestly don't see a way forward."
Chad ground his teeth in frustration.
"If this continues, the entire southern region will be lost to his influence..."
His voice wavered as he contemplated the terrifying speed of the archangel's conquest.
"Calm yourself. There is a solution."
Raon offered a tranquil smile and a reassuring gesture.
"A solution? To this?"
Chad swallowed hard, looking confused by Raon’s sheer lack of panic.
"Yes. I’ve conceptualized the perfect tool to bring down an archangel. But before that..."
Raon’s smile took on a sharper edge as he scanned the wide, empty training hall.
"I need to select the right people to wield it."
---
"Uuuugh..."
"Why today? It hasn't even been a full week!"
"Exactly! Exhaustion training is supposed to be a ten-day cycle! Why are we back here after only four days?"
"I can't do this! My body is still screaming!"
The swordsmen of the house trudged toward the main training grounds like condemned prisoners, their complaints filling the air. Their legs felt like lead, and their faces were masks of pure dread.
"This brings back memories."
Burren sighed deeply, a dry, humorless chuckle escaping him.
"Remember when we did focus enhancement every single day? Mind you, this is significantly worse..."
He squeezed his eyes shut, admitting that the current exhaustion training was a far more brutal beast than their old routines.
"I... I actually enjoy it..."
Martha licked her parched lips, her eyes darting around.
"It’s exhilarating! This is what real growth looks like!"
She declared her enjoyment with a face that looked like she was about to collapse, her trembling hands betraying her bravado.
"Khh..."
Runaan blinked slowly, her breathing heavy as if she were walking in a trance. Even though she had attained the rank of Transcendence, her physical reserves were clearly tapped out, and she looked like she was fighting a losing battle against sleep.
"I’m actually going to expire..."
Krein had already given up, slumping onto the ground with his head hanging between his knees, devoid of any will to stand.
"I'm so drained I haven't even touched my inventory..."
Dorian’s eyes were glassy as he confessed to neglecting his beloved Subspace Pouch—a sign of true desperation.
"We need a break... just a small one..."
"It feels like I'm trading years of my life for every hour of this training. It’s literal soul-grinding."
"How does the Lord Regent even come up with this stuff?"
"He’s not a regent, he’s a devil! We’ve invited a demon into the house!"
"Maybe if we all stand together and refuse, he'll listen?"
"Yes! Let's do it! This is beyond human endurance!"
The various martial divisions were in complete agreement; exhaustion training was the most harrowing ordeal they had ever faced.
*THUD!*
The heavy doors of the training ground swung open, silencing the rebellion instantly.
"The... The Lord Regent is here!"
The announcement came from the gatekeepers, whose voices were thin and strained from their own recent sessions of the very same training. The sound of approaching footsteps felt like a weight pressing down on everyone’s spirit.
*Step.*
Raon entered the hall. He walked toward the central platform, draped in an aura of pressure so dense it felt like a physical garment.
"Hhk..."
"Urgh..."
The assembled swordsmen felt the sheer gravity of his presence. They averted their eyes, staring at the floor or the walls to avoid any direct contact that might invite his scrutiny.
"Since I know you are all fatigued, I’ll skip the preamble."
Raon stood at the edge of the dais, his gaze sweeping over the exhausted ranks.
"You’ve been gathered here for the next round of exhaustion training."
The mere mention of the words caused faces to turn ashen. Several swordsmen began to shake visibly, their knees knocking together in primal fear.
"However, for those who show the most resilience today..."
Raon paused, letting the silence hang heavy over the shivering crowd.
"I will be selecting a team to accompany me on an external mission. Which means, for those chosen, exhaustion training will be suspended for the duration of the assignment."
He tilted his head slightly, offering the one thing every person in that room craved more than life itself: an escape.
*VROOOM!*
The shift in the room was instantaneous. The atmosphere of despair evaporated, replaced by a frantic, predatory energy.
"Grrr!"
"Pick me! I’m ready!"
"Move it! Out of my way if you value your life!"
"I will stay standing if it kills me! I'll survive this if I have to stop my own heart!"
The same people who moments ago were plotting a collective strike were now eyeing each other like mortal enemies. They snarled and gripped their hilts, focusing every ounce of their remaining willpower on the coming ordeal.
"Excellent. Let's begin."
Raon gave a satisfied nod and clapped his hands once.
"We shall use exhaustion training to see who gets to avoid exhaustion training."
-Wh-what is this madness...
Wrath’s jaw dropped in genuine shock.
-How are you any better than that archangel? You’re a complete monster!
