Chapter 751
Dozens of sword lights flashed in the gentle glow of the campfire. Raon watched with a faint smile as the Light Wind division swordsmen swung their blades, training immediately after finishing dinner.
They're training on their own now.
Previously, the division would rest after dinner, but now they moved with purpose, practicing without orders. Their attitude toward training had transformed completely.
Wrath perched atop Raon's head, wagging a finger. "Those fellows have painfully realized their own weakness through war. It's only natural for subordinates recognized by this king to risk their lives in training to improve themselves."
Raon nodded emphatically. "As I said, my subordinates will grow strong."
Wrath wagged his tail. "I suppose so. But…"
Raon followed his gaze and smiled softly. "I'm more pleased that their mindset has changed than that they've simply gotten stronger."
The Light Wind division had always been passive. They rarely trained individually unless instructed and would scream or flee when asked to spar. Now, they sought out sparring and participated in training at dawn and dusk without exception. Their growth wasn't only martial—it was mental as well.
Raon rose slightly. Should I help them a bit too?
"Where do you think you're going?" Wrath blocked his path.
"There's still food left, isn't there?" he added, wagging his tail. Raon let out a long sigh and finished the remaining stew.
"Hiya!" Wrath exclaimed, waving his arms. "The chunks are infused with a strong smoky flavor! This is camping delicacy at its finest!"
Raon shook his head. "The kids are changing, but you're still the same."
Wrath puffed up. "What do you mean? I always enjoy life!"
Raon smiled. "Of course. This king always has a mind to enjoy life, no matter the circumstances."
"...That wasn't a compliment."
Raon approached Runaan, who was creating silvery sword light.
"Isn't it tough?" he asked gently. He hadn't seen her enjoying bead ice cream lately, and since she loved it even more than Wrath, he was concerned.
"I'm fine," Runaan replied calmly. "Actually, I like it." Her flushed face hinted at excitement she tried to hide behind a blank expression. "I can feel myself growing with each swing."
Runaan's talent has grown rapidly.
Thanks to absorbing the Baphomet within the helmet, her martial potential had skyrocketed. Aside from Raon, she was the fastest-growing member of the Light Wind division, likely to break the pinnacle Master and Grandmaster barriers first.
Runaan exhaled. "I have something I need to do."
"Something you need to do?" Raon asked.
"I have to defeat my brother, so Mom and Dad won't worry." Her lips pressed together, her determination unwavering.
Raon clicked his tongue at the mention of Syria Sullion, recalling the Baphomet helmet he had worn.
"That leech-like bastard," he muttered. Syria had returned from the dead and targeted Raon when he was unconscious. Rimmer had said Syria had grown stronger—but Runaan, who had blocked his sword directly, seemed confident.
"Even as you are now, it'll be difficult to defeat him alone."
"I still have to do it," she said firmly, her usual self-effacing tone gone. "My brother changed because I couldn't stop him. I was too afraid. I can't change the past, so I have to end it."
Runaan gripped her sword with solemnity, her eyes burning with responsibility rather than fear. Her soul had grown as much as her swordsmanship.
Wrath sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "How admirable... The ice cream girl has grown so much!"
Raon nodded. "Her mind has grown even more than her martial prowess."
Wrath grinned. "And it's the first time we've heard her talk this much! Who knew she had such a pleasant voice?"
"Wrath," Raon said, pushing the small demon aside. "Runaan, if you need help, just say so anytime."
Runaan considered him, then spoke about the part of her swordsmanship she was struggling with. Raon offered guidance, not direct answers, encouraging her to think and grow. Across the camp, the Light Wind division worked with the same intensity, moving like a single living organism.
Near a barren mountain overlooking the Lawless Zone Hollam, Raon stood beside a withered tree, gazing at the ruined city below. Buildings clustered in the desert—outer houses dilapidated and dangerous, inner buildings soaring and opulent, reminiscent of the trading city Cameloon.
It's still the same…
Hollam was a land of stark wealth disparity. The weak struggled in the slums, while the strong thrived in luxury. Lawlessness ruled; humanity and trust were luxuries here.
Wrath frowned. "Survival of the fittest, huh?"
"Even in the Devildom, there are places like this," Raon observed.
Burren smirked. "This guy seems to be enjoying himself."
Wrath erupted. "Enjoying himself? I'm not dancing!"
"How dare you, a mere eyeball, speak to the king of the Devildom!" Wrath lunged at Burren.
Raon threw the screeching Wrath aside. "Hmm… how are we entering that place?"
Burren pointed to Hollam below. "We'll need disguises and to move in small groups. But first… there's someone we need to meet."
"Someone we need to meet?" Rimmer tilted his head.
"You wouldn't know, since you didn't attend the meeting," Raon sighed.
As night fell and lights began to shine in Hollam's center, a familiar presence emerged: Denning Rose, disciple of the Black Market leader.
"Long time no see, Lord Raon," she said, bowing gracefully.
"How did the Branch Manager…?"
"Because you're my responsibility, Lord Raon," she smiled elegantly. "It's natural I follow you."
She surveyed Hollam. "This land accepts criminals, murderers, even demons. But scrutiny is intense. If you enter as you are, you'll be exposed immediately. You'll need disguises and to act the part."
Her guards produced old, shabby clothes. Denning Rose promised outfits for everyone by tomorrow, ensuring they could pass as drifters or criminals.
Dorian grinned and pulled sand-covered clothes from his pouch. "Essential items," he said cheerfully.
Wrath cheered. "Kuu! How delightful!"
Denning Rose's expression turned serious. "One more problem: your martial prowess is too strong. Even in disguise, Grandmasters will detect you. I have vials to reduce your aura temporarily." She revealed two vials: one to suppress aura to one-tenth, and the other an antidote.
Rimmer frowned. "I don't like poison or medicine…"
"Understood," Raon said. He handed the first vial to Krein. After a hesitant moment, Krein drank it, and smoke enveloped him as his aura diminished. One minute later, he took the antidote, returning to full strength.
Raon distributed the vials to all, ensuring they understood the timing.
"Where do we infiltrate?" he asked Denning Rose.
"The arena," she said, pointing to the central, imposing structure. Transactions were conducted here, using crowds as cover. The Greedy Demon, a former knight obsessed with money, would likely mediate.
"The arena is crowded and full of secret passages," Denning Rose explained. "It's perfect for secret transactions."
Raon smacked his lips. "Then we need someone to participate in the arena fights."
Denning Rose smiled. "Hollam's arena is strength-based, without aura. It's best if only a few participate to attract attention."
Raon scanned the division. Denning Rose's eyes and his simultaneously fixed on one person.
Hollam's arena was a crucible of flesh and strength. Most participants were men hardened by harsh lives. Into this den of beasts stepped a young woman with fluttering red hair.
"Forget that she's a woman—she's too small!" a contestant sneered.
A middle-aged giant with deep scars blocked her path. "This isn't a place for women. Go make side dishes or pour drinks."
The red-haired woman's lips curled. She bit down on his fist. Crunch! Bones shattered, and blood gushed from his hand. She spat out the bone and fixed her piercing yellow gaze on him.
"Not moving? Want me to pluck out your eyes too?" she sneered.
The waiting room went silent. The giant trembled and backed away.
Raon watched from behind, lips trembling.
She's doing too well…
Wrath muttered nervously. "S-scary…"