Chapter 1301
Swoooosh.
Raon observed as the celestial energy of Archangel Sariel, which had been constricting the spirit of the Winten monarch, vanished entirely, and he pulled back his hand.
'It is finished.'
He had felt some apprehension because the divine pressure was so deeply embedded in the soul, yet his Soul Sword possessed a superior delicacy that allowed him to cleanly eliminate Sariel’s residue.
'The training has borne fruit.'
His command over the Soul Sword had clearly evolved due to the meditative sessions and Mental Image drills he practiced prior to this assignment, as well as the insights gained from analyzing spirits while alternating between the roles of the master and the apprentice.
-Th-this is nonsensical...
Wrath clutched his skull, stammering that he found it impossible to trust the evidence of his own senses.
-How can this lunatic's advancement be so rapid even in this field! This is a complete travesty of justice!
He ground his teeth together, lamenting why the heavens would bestow such immense potential all upon a single person.
"Ugh..."
The Sovereign of the Winten Kingdom tottered, pressing his hands to his forehead. A blinding migraine struck him, forcing him to drop to one knee with vacant, spinning eyes.
"Your Majesty!"
"Are you harmed!"
The elite protectors of the throne charged toward the Winten king, their eyes crimson with fury.
"Back away!"
"How dare this charlatan strike the King!"
They leveled their blades at Raon, their features contorted in rage, convinced that the youth had physically assaulted the Winten king.
"......"
Raon remained silent. He merely observed the Winten king from behind the wall of soldiers, his expression tranquil and his gaze steady.
"You!"
The Leader of the Royal Guard reached the limit of his patience, his lip splitting from the force of his clenching jaw as he hoisted his weapon.
"Stop at once!"
"The holy man is not a villain!"
"Lower your steel!"
The crowd of believers who revered the sage surged forward, placing their bodies between Raon and the knights who intended to run him through.
"Cease this!"
The situation mirrored the earlier confrontation, but this time it was the Winten king, not Raon, who delivered the command.
"Stop this instant and retreat!"
The Winten king’s roar was directed not at the civilians shielding Raon, but at the very soldiers who had moved to defend him.
"M-My Lord?"
The Guard Leader was stunned by this sudden shift in the Winten king’s behavior, his eyes widening in confusion.
"Are you truly unharmed?"
Though he acknowledged the Winten king’s order, he swallowed hard, unable to fully dismiss his protective instincts.
"I am quite well. Guard Leader, step back."
The Winten king inhaled a lungful of air, then moved forward by physically guiding his knights out of his path.
"It feels as though I can finally govern my own thoughts after an eternity."
He gave a firm nod, stating that his mind felt more lucid than it had in a long time.
"At last..."
Raon noted that the haze in the Winten king’s eyes had been replaced by clarity, and he allowed a small smile to touch his lips.
"We may now engage in a genuine dialogue."
Even in the presence of royalty, he offered no bow, simply closing and opening his eyes with quiet dignity.
"I am in your debt for waking me."
The Winten king understood that Raon was responsible for his liberation and bowed his head without hesitation.
"I regret that, as the ruler of a kingdom, I cannot offer a more profound display of gratitude than this."
He offered the most sincere sign of respect his position allowed before standing tall once more.
"If you ever require my assistance, you need only ask. I shall grant any request!"
The Winten king emphasized his intent to repay the debt incurred this day.
"Gasps!"
"Y-Your Majesty..."
"I don't understand..."
The royal soldiers shook with disbelief as they witnessed the Winten king treating Raon—who appeared as little more than a common wanderer—with such high regard.
"Formalities are of no concern."
Raon maintained a soft, benevolent expression, perfectly inhabiting the persona of a wise man.
"What matters is that the essence of another being had infiltrated your consciousness."
Raon squinted as he thought back to the divine vibration he had detected within the Winten king’s spirit.
"Can you recount what took place?"
To grasp the method Archangel Sariel used to manipulate others, a detailed account was mandatory.
"The memories are hazy, but I believe it began during a celebration hosted by the Monarch of the Sarion Kingdom."
The Winten king shut his eyes, searching his recollection of the past.
"The King of Sarion and I have been companions since our youth, almost like brothers, but his demeanor was quite strange that evening."
He scowled slightly, noting that the King of Sarion’s behavior and speech were far from his usual self.
"He pulled me aside to introduce a master. No. Unlike your noble self, he was referred to as the 'Dark Sage,' a man who purportedly resolved the hidden troubles of the aristocracy."
The Winten king rubbed the nape of his neck, as if the mere mention of the 'Dark Sage' brought on a cold shiver.
-That's the one!
Wrath connected the title of Dark Sage to Archangel Sariel and scowled.
'Correct. That is Sariel.'
Archangel Sariel adopted aliases like the Dark Sage or the Divine Emissary to provide 'solutions' for the ruling class. The King of Sarion had clearly fallen under his spell and subsequently lured his friend into the same trap.
"The King of Sarion urged me to share my burdens, but since I had no major grievances, I said very little and simply listened. Yet, as he persisted in his questioning, I eventually mentioned my anxiety regarding the conflict between the Five Kings and Eden. From that point on, I felt as though I was no longer the master of my own will."
The Winten king exhaled a heavy, clouded breath, explaining that he lost his autonomy from that second onward.
"It was no different today. I had no desire to travel here as of yesterday, but this morning I was seized by a sudden, violent urge to come and take your life. It must be the influence of that false master!"
He squeezed his hand into a fist, describing the sensation of being puppeteered.
"However, upon meeting you, those dark impulses vanished! You have my thanks!"
The Winten king expressed his gratitude once more with a bow. Had circumstances allowed, he looked ready to prostrate himself like the commoners in the street.
"The Dark Sage..."
Raon brushed his chin, contemplating Sariel, whose physical appearance remained a mystery to him.
"Have no fear. I intend to address this issue directly with the King of Sarion."
The Winten king, now realizing that his old friend and the Dark Sage had been his tormentors, ground his teeth in fury.
"You mentioned you would grant me a favor. In that case, it is best if you act as though nothing has changed when the King of Sarion seeks word of your progress. Most importantly, do not agree to meet him in person."
Raon immediately claimed his reward and nodded.
"But why? They are incredibly lethal!"
The Winten king’s lips trembled, his concern for Raon evident.
"If they are left to their own devices, it is not just Sarion or Winten at risk—the entire realm could fall into shadow."
Raon’s eyes took on a warm, sun-drenched quality, as if he were truly a saint who cared only for the welfare of humanity.
"To the pretender who leads men astray..."
The warmth, however, was fleeting. His expression shifted, and a terrifyingly frigid pressure emanated from him.
"I shall provide him with a very human education."
Raon’s routine remained steadfast even after the Winten king’s liberation. In fact, after witnessing the king’s display of respect, the number of pilgrims seeking the sage Doraen grew until the area was a literal sea of humanity.
"I-is this sustainable?"
Dorian swallowed nervously, his eyes darting across the massive crowd.
"Winten Kingdom might actually collapse under the weight of this crowd."
He sighed, noting that the assembly seemed to grow larger with every passing hour.
"We might be the ones who collapse first..."
Burren slumped to the dirt, shaking his head in exhaustion.
"It was draining when you were doing it, but now that the Palace Master has taken over, I’m truly at my limit."
He let out a tired groan, complaining about the difficulty of processing so many people’s grievances.
"We are suffering, yet that man looks perfectly content?"
Martha scowled as she watched Raon interact with one person after another.
"That's because he has it easy!"
Krein stood up and shouted in frustration.
"He’s enjoying himself while we do all the heavy lifting behind the curtain!"
He shook his head, convinced that Raon was simply avoiding the hard work.
"No..."
Runaan struggled to keep her eyes open and disagreed.
"Raon is doing something different than Dorian..."
She shifted her gaze, observing that Raon’s methods were distinct from when Dorian played the sage.
"What do you mean by different..."
Krein blinked, clearly lost.
"The Palace Master isn't merely listening to their tales right now. He is using the Soul Sword to physically strip away their psychological burdens and mental stress."
Burren sharpened his gaze, realizing that Raon wasn't just offering advice like Dorian.
"That is why every person who speaks with Raon leaves with a look of profound peace."
Martha let out a huff, indicating she had already noticed this phenomenon.
"Yes..."
Runaan nodded, confirming that was exactly her point.
"Everyone carries weight."
The Ragged Saint Federick smiled kindly and nodded his agreement.
"But if one dwells on those weights, the stress builds until it manifests as sickness in the mind and body. Raon is currently exciseing the root of that stress. The problems themselves aren't gone, but the people regain the clarity and calm needed to face them. That is a form of healing that even I cannot achieve."
He folded his hands, impressed by how Raon was removing the sense of despair and mental exhaustion from the masses.
"Applying the Soul Sword to soothe someone’s nerves..."
Krein looked back at Raon, letting out a small gasp of realization.
"H-healing is wonderful, but isn't it taxing?"
Dorian licked his dry lips, still anxious.
"Sariel or his agents will arrive shortly, and if he spends his strength on this..."
"What were you listening to?"
Martha gestured toward the frantic Dorian.
"I told you, that guy looks more satisfied than he’s ever been."
She waved her hand, dismissing the concern.
"Raon isn't losing energy..."
Runaan closed her eyes again, speaking softly to reassure him.
"He is becoming more powerful..."
Raon scrutinized the spirit of the young woman who knelt before him and allowed a gentle smile to form.
'I can perceive it.'
Even without honing his Soul Sword to its sharpest edge or exerting much force, he could sense the specific worries and the depth of the agony the person before him carried.
"Your young son's ailment..."
This mother was consumed by fear for her three-year-old, who was failing to thrive. Believing she couldn't be whole while her child suffered, she had stopped eating and sleeping, dedicating every moment to him. She was a shell of herself, on the verge of a total breakdown.
"Y-yes! I beg of you, save my boy!"
The woman prostrated herself, pledging to do anything if it meant her son would recover.
'It appears to be hand, foot, and mouth disease.'
By reading her thoughts, he identified the illness as a common childhood infection. While her son’s case sounded severe and potentially lethal, it was a condition the Ragged Saint Federick could easily remedy.
"If you administer this treatment, your child will soon be back on his feet. However..."
Raon handed her the medicine while simultaneously directing a needle-thin strand of Soul Sword energy toward the woman.
"If things continue as they are, you will be the one to perish from exhaustion once he is well."
He precisely manipulated his Soul Sword to prune away the thicket of anxiety and pressure strangling the woman’s spirit. In the past, such an act might have scarred her soul, but his mastery had reached a level where he could selectively cut only the negative energy.
"Ah..."
The woman took a deep breath as she clutched the medicine.
"Just being near you, Great Sage, has made my body feel light. I will remain strong until my son is whole again!"
She bowed deeply, amazed that the physical weight she had been carrying had suddenly lifted.
"You must."
Raon nodded and watched her leave. Following her, an endless stream of people arrived, each pouring out their unique tragedies and burdens.
While most of these tales were grim enough to be draining, he felt no fatigue; instead, he felt a surge of vitality. As he stripped the stress from others, his own internal pressures and weariness seemed to dissolve.
'And of course, even more vital than that...'
Raon smiled as he removed the pain from yet another soul.
'Is the mastery of the Soul Sword.'
By using the Soul Sword in two stages—first to sense the worry and then to erase it—his proficiency was growing at an incredible rate. The raw power of the blade hadn't spiked, but the refinement of his control and the fluidity of his energy had reached an entirely new plane of existence.
-Haaaa...
Wrath looked as though he were the one being tortured.
-Why do these mortals have so much to whine about! It’s the same grievances over and over. I’m going to die of boredom!
He shook his head violently, desperate to stop hearing the endless complaints.
'Is that so? I feel as though I could do this indefinitely.'
Just as Raon was enjoying the thought that he, unlike Wrath, was perfectly happy to continue.
Whoooosh!
A monumental aura erupted from the far side of the massive line of people.
The arrival of five warriors, each possessing the strength of a Knight Commander capable of anchoring a nation, accompanied by nobles of high birth, made the ground tremble and the air itself vibrate.
'At last, they have arrived.'
Raon’s smile widened, but he wasn't reacting to the royalty or the radiant aura of the knights. He had sensed a darker, more sinister presence lurking in their wake, a being that looked upon the world with mockery.
'Archangel Sariel!'
