Raon had encountered four of the Five Demons in his previous life.
If he were to choose which of them were the hardest ones to fight against, the White Blood Religion was always in the top two.
They were a group of fanatics that didnât hesitate to pierce the stomach and slash the throats of their allies for their religious purpose.
âKill them all.â
The bishop wearing a coat with two white lines extended his hand, and the White Blood fanatics started running at them with bloodthirsty eyes.
âWell, thenâŠâ
Raon held the Blade of Requiem in a reverse grip and gathered the energy from the Ten Thousand Flower Cultivation.
âLetâs take your revenge.â
With fierce steps, Raon dashed at the White Blood fanatics.
Clang!
The White Blood Religion believer at the front drew a sword curved like a crescent moon. It was the White Blood Religionâs main weapon, a scimitar.
He slashed the scimitar at Raonâs neck without even shouting.
âI knew it.â
The White Blood Religion believed that killing in a single strike was a mercy, and usually aimed for the neck or the heart. The attack was extremely lethal, but it was easier to dodge because of that.
Raon bent his knees. He dodged the scimitar with a paper-thin difference then slashed with the Blade of Requiem.
Thud!
The White Blood fanaticâs head fell on the ground, following the handâs light movement and drawing an arc.
âHuh.â
Raon exclaimed, looking at the Blade of Requiem.
âWhat just happened?â
It was just a simple and light cut, yet the opponentâs head was cut off. It was an unreasonable degree of sharpness.
âI feel like Iâll get cut just from holding it.â
He licked his lips, looking at the ghastly energy spreading out like the roots of a thousand-year-old tree.
âLetâs continue.â
The Blade of Requiem resonated in response.
Thud!
Raon kicked the ground. He pierced into the White Blood fanatics attacking the knights, slashing with the Blade of Requiem.
Spurt!
Along with a frightening sound, the bodies of five White Blood fanatics had been split diagonally.
Whir!
The Blade of Requiem resonated even more intensely, craving for more blood, and the wave of ghastly energy also became stronger.
Raonâs red eyes sparkled. He dashed into the battlefield, leaving his body to the ghastly energy and started slaughtering the White Blood fanatics. He looked like a red wolf taking a stroll amidst a flock of sheep.
âStop.â
Once he killed twenty White Blood fanatics on his own, a man with a white line on his coat stood up to him. He was a priest, a higher rank of believer.
Whir.
The scimitar the priest was holding started shining in white.
âDie.â
The priest came running at him, aiming for his neck.
âItâs too obvious.â
His attack was no different from the believers.
Raon extended his left foot to the back. He thrust the Blade of Requiem the moment the scimitar hit the ground.
Poof!
It was just a simple thrust, yet the left side of the priestâs chest exploded. It was a ridiculous amount of power.
âItâs crazy.â
The Blade of Requiem was still craving its revenge. Its dry resonance sounded like the priestâs blood wasnât enough to satisfy its thirst.
âHmm.â
Raon narrowed his eyes, looking at the priestâs blood seeping into the ground.
Thatâs a weird color for blood. Mixing in some water would have that light color.
Wrath was right. The priestâs blood was light red, similar to red paint with a small amount of white mixed in.
âThis is the White Blood Religionâs characteristic.â
The White Blood fanatics used a cultivation technique called Bloody Banquet to gather bloody energy, then enhanced it by drinking human blood.
Their blood grew white the more they drank blood and the more they cultivated.
In other words, how close to white a White Blood fanaticâs blood was determined their position and power.
They really are crazy.
âYes, they canât even be called humans.â
Raon kicked the ground, seeing that the knights were struggling against the White Blood fanatics. He assaulted the priest that was hacking his scimitar at the red-haired knightâs neck.
âHmm!â
The priest reacted quickly and turned his body, but it was already too late.
Wham!
The Blade of Requiemâs sharp strike sent the priestâs arm flying.
âKuah! Y-you bastard!â
Raon didnât miss the opportunity as the priest stepped backwards in panic. He followed up immediately to behead him.
âHuffâŠâ
Hearing the desperate breath, Raon looked sideways. The red-haired knight that barely managed to survive was staring at him in astonishment.
Raon nodded slightly and advanced.
Each time he swung the Blade of Requiem, one or two White Blood fanatics disappeared. A tremendous amount of murderous intent endlessly stormed around the red blade.
âI have no other choice.â
The bishop, who had been overpowering the prince and two knights on his own, turned around. He used a strange footwork, making him look like a moving shadow, to step in front of Raon.
âIâll kill you first.â
âCan you do it?â
Raon sneered. He could feel that the bishop was stronger than the Green War Demon or Raden, but he couldnât imagine losing at all.
âIâll show you.â
The bloody scimitar drew a half moon towards his neck.
Whoosh!
He leisurely bent his back and the scimitar cut his golden hair, scattering it in the air.
âHe is the same.â
The bishop wasnât an exception to the White Blood Religionâs way of targeting the neck and heart.
As Raon straightened his back, the bishop opened his left hand, which wasnât holding the sword, shooting snow white energy from his index finger towards Raonâs heart.
It was a technique called Bloody Finger Bullet, which consisted of shooting aura from the fingerâs mana circuit.
âI knew it.â
Raon slashed the Blade of Requiem down. The Bloody Finger Bullet was cut in half by the fierce ghastly energy, destroying the rock behind him.
As the bishop pulled his arm back, Raon pierced into his space, swinging the Blade of Requiem at the scimitar coming down at him.
Clang!
The enchanted scimitar and the Blade of Requiem, surrounded by ghastly energy, clashed and produced a thunderous noise similar to a devil's scream on the hill.
Creak!
The ghastly energy of the Blade of Requiem glowed darkly. It became a red ray of light to bounce off the scimitar.
âHmm!â
The bishopâs expression grew stiff, irritated by the fact that he was pushed back by a small dagger.
âWho are you, and where are you from?â
âIâm sorry, but I canât reveal my identity myself.â
âIâll be the one to drink your blood.â
The bishop opened his left hand and put it on his waist, then held up his scimitar. With an intense pressure emanating from his posture, he was aiming for an all-out attack.
âBring it on.â
Raon bent his knees and narrowed his eyes. Just as he was about to use a secret dagger technique, ghastly energy started emerging from the Blade of Requiem.
Whir!
The ghastly energy spread out along with the resonance, drawing a curved trajectory in the air. It looked like dancing steps and a butterflyâs flapping wings at the same time.
âAre you telling me to copy that?â
The Blade of Requiem resonated once again in assertion.
âAlthough Iâm not sure what that isâŠâ
Raon nodded and started rotating the Rings of Fire.
The five rings of fire resonated to slow down time. The ghastly energyâs path grew clearly visible.
âThat isâŠâ
The path carved by the ghastly energy was a sword dance. The sword dance of fertility that the Siren villagers used to offer to the divine tree Othello.
The sword dance of fertility that was supposed to pray for world peace had become a sword dance of revenge and resentment in order to slice the enemyâs throat.
âDie.â
White light shone from the bishopâs hand and sword. A wall full of blades crushed against him. It was the bishopâs secret technique, the White Spirit Wall.
âFine.â
Raon brandished the Blade of Requiem.
âIâll do as you wish.â
He stomped the ground and used the blazing energy that was burning up from his lower body to rotate his waist.
The aura of the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation and the Blade of Requiemâs ghastly energy mixed into a single energy, tracing through the sword danceâs trajectory.
Clink!
As the Blade of Requiem advanced, the amount of energy inside the blade exploded.
When Raon finally thrust his sword, a frightening aura stretched from the blade with a thundering sound.
Baam!
The mixture of aura and ghastly energy ripped apart the White Spirit Wall in an instant, rampaging through the bishop and the fanatics behind it.
âHmm.â
Raonâs legs faltered for an instant. It looked like heâd spent too much aura at once as his head went blank.
âHaaâŠâ
He caught his breath and slowly raised his head.
A bloodstain was the only thing remaining under the subsiding sandy dust. The White Blood fanatics, priests, and the bishop had all been erased without a trace.
âHah.â
Raon exclaimed and looked at the Blade of Requiem. The red blade had grown even darker after sucking up the bloody energy from the death of White Blood fanatics.
âYour resentment was way stronger than I thought.â
It was to the point that it would transform the dance of fertility into a dance of revenge.
He felt slightly bitter as he turned around.
âUuhâŠâ
âAhâŠâ
Greer and the knights were falling back with wide eyes. They were opening and closing their mouths like goldfish, too surprised to say anything.
âY-y-young master.â
Dorian crawled up to him, his limbs trembling as if he had caught a chill.
âWhat was that just now? W-was it some kind of magic?â
âI wonder.â
Raon shook off the blood from the Blade of Requiem and shook his head.
âIâm not sure either.â
He wasnât sure how to describe the dagger that contained a sadness surpassing its power.
* * *
Reaper Scans
[Translator â Kyangi]
[Proofreader â Harley]
Join our discord for updates on releases! https://dsc.gg/reapercomics
* * *
Gulp!
The knight Roreil swallowed, looking at the blond boy standing there confidently.
âWh-what was that?â
He annihilated the White Blood Religion with a single strike. That sort of prowess was only possible for advanced Experts or highest-level Experts.
â...H-how could he have done that?â
The strength left his fingers, which were supporting his body from the ground. It felt like Raonâs frightening eyes were shining like a death godâs, even though heâd thought of him as a sloppy and naive boy.
âI was sure he hadnât even reached the Expertâs levelâŠâ
The Raon Zieghartâs prowess that he saw in Cameloon was way weaker than his own, and he was even weaker than the prince.
And the fact that he was carrying around multiple swords made him think that he was just a naive greenhorn.
He was convinced that the kind-natured prince was thinking better of him.
âBut that wasnât the case.â
The naive greenhorn was himself.
Raon was an expert, strong enough to deceive him completely. He was that strong with a single dagger, so he couldnât even begin to imagine how powerful he would be if he actually drew his sword.
âWhat an idiotâŠâ
While Roreil was blaming his own foolishness, the prince stood up.
âHuh. He became way stronger than before.â
The prince exclaimed in amazement and walked up to Raon.
âI believe the amount Iâve been training doesnât lose to anyone, yet there seems to be a difference that I canât even dare try to catch up to.â
The open-hearted prince admitted the extent of Raonâs prowess.
âThank you very much. Itâs all thanks to you that our lives were saved.â
He lowered his head, as if he forgot about their difference in social standing. However, no one could stop him from doing that since it couldâve been really dangerous if Raon hadnât been there.
âTh-thank you.â
âThank you for saving us.â
âYou were really amazing.â
Roreil suddenly stood up and bowed to Raon. The other knights also hesitantly approached him to express their gratitude.
âIt was nothing.â
Raon looked up at the green mountain over the hill and shook his head.
âIâm sure you wouldâve managed even if I wasnât here.â
* * *
After cleaning up the battlefield alongside the knights, Raon settled down in a different place.
Unlike before, the knights kept glancing at him. They werenât secretly looking down on him anymore, and their gazes were filled with awe.
âThey are only treating me fairly after I show my strength.â
Of course. Humans are strong against the weak, and weak against the strong. They are worse than any animal in that aspect.
Wrath murmured that they were even worse than demons, popping out from the flower bracelet.
âWell, anyway this dagger is fiercer and more dangerous than I thought.â
He stared at the Blade of Requiemâs blade, shining in red. It only became like that when it met the White Blood Religion, but it was carrying an intense resentment.
Hmph. Itâs still just a lousy tool. If the King of Essence had lent you the strength, the whole area wouldâve been frozen.
âBut you canât do that.â
UghâŠ
âLetâs not talk about something you canât do.â
I-I can do it, but Iâm just not doing it. Because The King of Essence wants your body and soul!
âExcuses, once again.â
Excuses? Back in Devildom, countless demons came to the King of Essence, begging for strength. One of them had been bestowed with powerâŠ
âBe quiet.â
When Wrath started his boring story, the Blade of Requiem vibrated.
The energy imbued on the red blade flowed into Raonâs body.
Stop it! That parasite is trying to steal the King of Essenceâs body!
âFirst of all, this is my body and not yours. And secondly, it doesnât have any intention to harm me.â
Raon shook his head. The energy he felt from the Blade of Requiem wasnât ghastly energy, it was a pure energy. As he was thinking about what just happened, a message popped up.
[The Blade of Requiem offers you purified blood energy.]