Click.
Raon clicked his tongue briefly as he observed the Evil Goat Demon retreating.
'It wasn't deep.'
He hadn't been able to swing his sword perfectly while protecting Runaan. Although the Evil Goat Demon's neck split and blood spurted out, it wasn't a deep wound.
"Raon Zieghart."
A voice filled with joy flowed from inside the Evil Goat Demon's helmet.
"As expected, you came. I've been waiting for you."
The demon wiped the blood dripping from its neck and spread its arms as if welcoming him.
"Evil Goat Demon. No."
Raon twisted his lips as he looked at the glimmering purple eyes inside the demon's helmet.
"Should I call you Syria Sullion?"
"Hahaha."
The Evil Goat Demon removed the goat helmet. Syria's delicate face twisted into a long, crooked smile.
"How did you know?"
"You're the only one who could pull off this kind of madness."
Runaan, who was forced to wear Baphomet's helmet, was engulfed in black energy, and in another room, he could sense the faint presence of Rokan and Clara, who seemed to have fainted.
The only one who could destroy House Sullion from the inside was Syria Sullion.
'It finally fits together.'
The reason why the Evil Goat Demon's temperament felt strangely familiar when he first saved Federick now made sense.
-Ice cream girl!
Wrath flew over to Runaan, trembling with rage.
-Such an irredeemable piece of trash!
He was seething with a murderous intent so intense that if he had a body, he would have ripped out Syria's neck on the spot.
Raon frowned as he looked at the trembling Runaan.
'Possession...'
Just like when he was kidnapped by Eden and fought against the Dragonians while wearing the Dragon Helmet, Runaan was now undoubtedly in a mental battle with Baphomet in the mental world.
'I need to help.'
Though he didn't know how, he needed to behead Syria Sullion as quickly as possible and give strength to Runaan.
He bit his lip and gripped the Heavenly Drive tightly.
"So you must know that I saved your life too. Why do you think I did that?"
"Shut up."
"It was for that very reason."
Syria pointed a finger at the convulsing Runaan.
"I thought Runaan would reach Master faster if she spent time with you. I've helped you quite a bit."
He waved his hand as if there was no need to thank him.
"But now that my sister is about to break free from her shell, you are no longer needed."
Syria stomped his foot. Red and black energy flared from his spiked shoulders.
The fierce aura made it feel like his skin was being torn apart.
Screech!
Raon drew the Requiem Sword with his left hand.
He was strong.
He didn't know if he had been hiding his strength from the start or had grown in the meantime, but Syria's current aura was stronger than Cloud, the disciple of the Leader of the Holy Sword Alliance.
But there was no thought of fear.
Boom!
The emotion of wrath that had sunk to the bottom of his soul surged up like fireworks, spreading throughout his body.
His heart beat violently as if it would explode, and he felt as if an unknown monster was wearing his skin.
Wrath. The emotion of wrath from Wrath was running wild, linking with his own emotions.
"Why is the Evil Goat Demon here! And that's Runaan!"
Martha's eyes shook as she looked between Syria and Runaan.
"Runaan's parents are in there. Go save them."
He pointed to the left room where Rokan and Clara were unconscious, instructing her to save them.
"What about me?"
Dorian pointed to himself from the ground.
"The martial artists of House Sullion will be here soon. Prevent them from coming this way."
"Understood."
Dorian nodded and blew a long whistle.
Fweeet!
A refreshing sound echoed endlessly.
"That is..."
"I made it when you weren't around. The entire Light Wind division will be here soon."
Martha said to trust her and jumped through the collapsed wall.
"We don't have much time then."
Syria smiled and stretched out his hand, and a giant sword as large as an adult male sprang up from the crushed ground.
As he grabbed the greatsword, black energy flames flared up on the blade. It was clear. Syria now was above Cloud's level.
"Then let's finish this quickly."
As Syria approached, Raon stabbed the Heavenly Drive and Requiem Sword into the cracked ground.
The incomplete Sword Domain.
"Divine-Demonic Harmony."
The voice filled with wrath twisted the flow of the world.
As the mental world, which had grown even more, opened up, the sky and earth shook.
The red sun and blue moon rose, and under their mystical light, divine and demonic swords burning with fire and frost appeared in Raon's hands.
"Sword Domain?"
Syria's eyes trembled as if he had seen something he shouldn't have.
"Yes. That's why I defeated the disciple of the Leader of the Holy Sword Alliance."
Now understanding, Syria twisted his lips.
"But I am different..."
Raon kicked the ground as Syria began to speak. Like a fierce tiger, he lunged and thrust his divine sword toward Syria's head.
"You're in a hurry!"
As Syria's lips curled up, the flames of energy condensed on the greatsword, forming a dark sphere. It was an Astral Ring formed from his energy.
Boom!
The clash of the divine sword's flames and the Astral Ring on the greatsword created a tremendous shockwave. The ground cracked, and the walls shattered.
"I'll kill you."
Raon blocked the shockwave from reaching Runaan and swung the demonic sword at Syria's neck with his left hand.
Buzz!
Syria drew a bizarre symbol with his left hand, which wasn't holding the greatsword.
Black tendrils sprouted from his left shoulder, blocking the blade of the demonic sword.
"Don't you know? Baphomet can use both magic and martial arts..."
"So what?"
Raon held his breath. He leaned forward, tightening all his muscles.
Pouring the wrath boiling inside into the divine and demonic swords, he pressed down on Syria.
Rumble!
The flames of the divine sword pushed Syria's greatsword back, and the fierce frost severed the black tendrils.
"Even if it's the Sword Domain, it's still unexpected, but..."
Syria sneered, slithering like a slippery eel.
He deflected the auras of the divine and demonic swords and swung the greatsword horizontally. The sleek, rising black orb of Astral Ring pushed back the divine and demonic swords.
"You're still immature."
Raon didn't fall for Syria's taunt. He advanced as much as he was pushed back, twisting his wrists holding the divine and demonic swords.
Screech!
The finesse of the dual sword technique he learned from Sheryl was connected to the myriad of sword techniques, generating immense pressure.
Rumble!
The dark Astral Ring that dominated the space was held back by the divine and demonic swords, causing a tremendous vibration.
In the collision of strength and aura, the ground twisted, and the walls and ceiling crumbled like dried cookies.
"Damn it! I almost died!"
As Raon gritted his teeth and tried to advance, Martha emerged carrying Rokan and Clara on her shoulders.
Blood was endlessly flowing from her forehead and shoulders. She seemed to have gone through a fierce battle as well.
"I'll take Runaan! You must win!"
Martha grabbed the still convulsing Runaan by the nape and climbed up the collapsed wall.
"Where are you going! Runaan is mine!"
Syria stretched out his left arm toward Martha, forgetting he was fighting Raon, and shot a black flash. It was the high-level magic, Dark Hand.
Whoosh!
Raon raised the divine sword upward, creating a Fire Wall. A pillar of fire rising from the ground blocked the Dark Hand.
Boom!
The clash of intense flames and dark mana filled the air with purple sparks.
Swoosh!
Raon didn't miss the moment when Syria's gaze shifted, slicing his thigh with the demonic sword.
"Graaah!"
Even as flesh tore and blood spurted, Syria aimed his energy at Martha's back.
"Don't touch what's mine!"
"You disgusting bastard."
Raon frowned at Syria.
"Runaan isn't yours."
Since the first time he saw him, he knew Syria was obsessed with Runaan.
But now it was clear that it was beyond obsession; it was madness. Instead of spitting out disgust, he poured his wrath into his sword.
Boom!
The flames and frost concentrated in the divine and demonic swords exploded, tearing apart Syria's energy.
Despite barely defending with his greatsword and the Dark Wall, Syria didn't take his eyes off Runaan.
"Runaaaaaan!"
Raon released the demonic sword stuck in the Dark Wall. He clenched his left hand into a fist and struck Syria, who was calling out Runaan's name, in the mouth.
Crunch!
Bones and teeth shattered, and Syria was flung back, crashing to the ground.
"Ugh!"
Syria's mouth spewed blood-stained teeth, but even in severe pain, he kept calling Runaan's name.
"Runaan!"
Raon thrust the divine sword into Syria's face, blocking his view.
"Ugh!"
Syria rolled like a bug to avoid the sword and grabbed the wall to stand up.
"Don't interfere, you dog of Zieghart!"
He gripped the greatsword with both hands and chanted a strange incantation.
Boom!
Black mana particles gathered from all directions, seeping into Syria's body.
His aura surged like a tidal wave, and the size of the Astral Ring blazing from his greatsword doubled.
Boom!
Syria lunged forward with his greatsword held back. The ground crumbled, and the flow of mana twisted.
He was unleashing his full power without any regard for what came after.
It wasn't just his aura that had increased. The greatsword, slashing forward, carried the essence of extreme training in both heavy and strong swordsmanship.
The proper counter to such a brute-force charge would be to dodge and then counterattack, but this time, Raon didn't want to retreat.
Whether possessed by Baphomet or not, he wanted to crush the perverted bastard who was obsessed with his sister with sheer force.
Boom!
Raon planted his left foot firmly. Coordinating the pulsation of his muscles and aura in one breath, he swung both the divine and demonic swords downward.
Boom!
The concentrated Astral Ring of energy and the heat and frost from the divine and demonic swords collided head-on, creating a massive mana storm.
The ground and the walls disintegrated, revealing the sky as if a hole had been punched through.
Rumble!
Though Syria's power and aura were monstrous, befitting someone who had reached the level of Grandmaster, Raon wasn't pushed back at all.
Even though he was using the Sword Domain and unleashing his full power, expending a lot of aura, he felt himself growing stronger.
Wrath.
The wrath he had received from Wrath was burrowing into his soul, giving him the power to melt his reason.
Under normal circumstances, he would control the movement of wrath with the Ring of Fire, but now he stopped the Ring of Fire and accepted the wrath.
Boom!
It felt like wrath, not blood, was coursing through his veins. The raging emotions of wrath seized his hands and brain.
-I...
Wrath was saying something, but Raon didn't care.
"I will kill you!"
In the omnipotent sensation that he could do anything, Raon willed the death of the trash before him.
Boom!
The flames of the divine sword and the frost of the demonic sword, infused with the emotions of wrath, flared up as if they would reach the end of the sky.
Rumble!
Revealing the uncontrollable wrath, Raon crushed Syria.
"How... How is this possible...?"
Syria's eyes widened in disbelief as his full-strength Astral Ring was overpowered.
Swoosh!
Raon, fully expressing his murderous intent, slashed Syria's abdomen as he was pushed back.
Slash!
The armor, harder than steel, tore apart, and blood spurted from the gaping wound.
"Ugh..."
Syria stepped back with his greatsword. His trembling eyes reflected confusion and doubt.
"You... Who are you...?"
"Do you know how much that child endured?"
Raon bit his lip and approached Syria.
"Do you know how many times she swung her sword and how much she agonized to erase the trauma caused by you?"
Watching over Runaan, he knew. She endured pain as if being stabbed daily, yet she never showed it.
She hid her sorrow, not wanting to burden her parents or comrades, enduring it alone.
Knowing how much emotion was hidden in her simple desire for ice cream, Raon couldn't forgive Syria.
"Runaan's defensive swordsmanship is because of you. She chose to protect her parents with her sword rather than attack because of you!"
Grinding his teeth, Raon readjusted his grip on the divine and demonic swords.
"You have no right to exist in this world."
"Shut up! Don't speak Runaan's name with your filthy mouth!"
Syria screamed, raising his greatsword. A higher level of Astral Ring flared up on the broken blade. He poured all his remaining energy and mana into it, creating a chilling black whirlpool.
"Runaan is mine!"
"She belongs to no one."
Raon leaped into the explosive black whirlpool, crossing the divine and demonic swords.
Raon Zieghart's sword technique.
Sixth Form: Divine-Demonic Harmony Linked Move, Invincible Azure-Red Sword.
Like a master's brush drawing a straight line, the divine and demonic swords fell steadfastly, painting red and blue lines on the canvas of the world.
Boom!
The red flames and blue frost blended as if they were originally one, emitting a magnificent light.
Slash!
The Astral Ring that seemed to swallow the world split apart, and Syria's arms were torn off.
"Argh!"
Syria screamed, collapsing to the ground. A terrifying amount of blood gushed from his severed arms.
"Syria Sullion!"
Raon, still unsatisfied, charged at the nearly dead Syria like a beast.
Slash!
The Heavenly Drive and Requiem Sword, returning from the released Sword Domain, pierced Syria's shoulders, and Raon pounded his face with his clenched fist.
Crunch!
Though his aura was exhausted, the wrath within him burned stronger. Fueled by endless wrath, he relentlessly smashed Syria's face.
Bang! Bang!
With each strike, Syria's cheekbones shattered, his nose was crushed, and his teeth were knocked out.
"Ugh..."
Syria, with his eyes rolled back, emitted a sound that was neither a scream nor laughter.
"Die!"
A blood-soaked smile spread across Raon's face.
The searing wrath boiled his brain, urging him to kill, to inflict maximum pain before killing.
Answering that call, Raon beat Syria's body in a more brutal and savage manner.
-Stop it!
Just as he was about to shatter Syria's collarbone, Wrath sprang up before his eyes.
-Come to your senses!
'Wrath?'
-You idiot!
As Wrath's scolding voice echoed, Raon's narrowing vision cleared, and he regained his senses.
-What are you doing? This isn't the time to waste on this perverted bastard!
Wrath slapped his head, asking if he wasn't going to save Runaan.
"Ah..."
Only then did the wrath that had crushed his aura and led his body and mind subside.
"Ugh..."
Raon vomited black blood. The aftermath of giving in to wrath drained his strength and filled his body with severe pain.
-You're still too immature to handle wrath!
'Huff...'
-There's no time for scolding now. Move quickly!
Wrath urged him to climb up quickly, raising his hand.
'Sorry...'
Raon bit his lip and turned around. He crawled up the collapsed space.
Boom!
When he reached the ground, he saw Dorian using various equipment to block the martial artists of House Sullion.
Beside him, Martha was desperately holding down Runaan, who was trying to stand up.
"Why are you so late? Hurry up and stop her!"
Martha, bleeding from overexertion, was holding down Runaan, who was pushing her away.
Black mana spread around her.
"Ah..."
Raon trembled as he saw the purple light in Runaan's helmet.
'Am I too late?'
His grip weakened, and he dropped the Heavenly Drive and Requiem Sword. His mind went blank, and regret flowed back, having given in to wrath.
'Wrath, is there any way...?'
-If you were still fighting, I might know, but in this state...
Wrath bit his lip, unsure of what to do.
"Runaan. I..."
As Raon bit his lip, looking at the transforming Runaan, a mole popped up from under his feet.
"It's not too late yet."
The mole shook its head, rubbing its head. It was Merlin's voice.
"Go on. I'll help."
"How did you get here...?"
"Is that important right now? If you're any later, it will really be too late."
She waved her hand, urging him to go.
Boom!
Raon bit his lip and sprinted across the ruined ground. He placed his hand on Baphomet's helmet on Runaan's head just as she stood alone, pushing Martha away.
"Get out."
Runaan's voice cracked like it came from hell.
As she raised her blackened hand to stab him, Merlin's mana seeped in, and everything turned white before his eyes.