Chapter 108: A Decisive Move
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 108: A Decisive Move
'This might actually work.'
Facing the castle wall, Finn felt the weight of the watchful eyes on them grow noticeably lighter.
Though she hadn't yet reached the realm of the Gate of the Sixth Sense, her instincts as a Ranger and a Pathfinder were sharp enough to tell her the difference.
Torres, following close behind her, briefly questioned if this was the right path before shaking his head inwardly.
'Now isn't the time to hesitate.'
If they were doing this, they were doing it.
He was a member of the Border Guard, a soldier who had earned a special grade under the Naurilian Soldier Grading System. While he couldn't take on a hundred men alone, he was a veteran asset who could easily do the work of two or three.
And then there was Encrid.
"I'm going first."
Encrid didn't even wait for Finn to lead. He began to scale the wall, thrusting his hands into the crevices and ascending with long, confident strides.
He had already shed his ruined gambeson. Though he had used a few of his throwing weapons, his longsword still clattered at his waist.
"...What on earth is he?" Finn whispered.
He was climbing the wall faster than she could, and she was a Ranger. It was a natural question to ask.
"I don't know either," Torres replied. "He just... goes."
"What?"
Torres turned his own words over in his mind and realized how strange they sounded. "I thought I knew him a little before, but now? I have no idea."
"Anyway, just keep up."
Encrid was scaling the wall with terrifying speed. It was a work of art, a fluid grace that would put a mountain ape to shame. He moved his hands and feet without a moment's hesitation.
Finn followed right behind him.
Because they had come in a hurry, they only had two pitons, meaning they only had two ropes to hang from the wall. Looking down, Finn saw Torres barely keeping up. He was groaning under the strain, but his natural athleticism carried him through.
'Then what about him?'
Finn looked back up.
Encrid, who had already nearly reached the top, stopped in a crouched position just beneath the parapet.
The parapet was a thick, high defensive structure built atop the castle wall. Unless one possessed extraordinary physical ability, climbing over it barehanded and landing on the other side was no easy feat.
'Can he not get over?'
It didn't seem likely. For Finn, she could simply hang by her fingertips, pull her upper body up, and use the spring of her waist to vault over. If she used the small grappling hook she carried just in case, it would be even easier.
Once over, she could reach down and pull her companions up.
In any case, it didn't look like Encrid had stopped because he was stuck. Hanging there below the parapet, he didn't even look winded.
He looked down and gestured with his fingers. It was a simple hand signal, but the meaning was clear.
[Guards.]
Did that mean there was someone on the other side? Finn strained her ears, but she couldn't hear or sense a single thing.
'Is he more sensitive than me, a Ranger?'
In truth, Encrid hadn't sensed anything either. He only knew from experience.
Hanging beneath the parapet, Encrid fell into thought.
'What kind of trick did they use?'
Blocking the sixth sense. Even after repeating this day so many times, he still couldn't figure this one out. They must have used some kind of spell to pull it off. Otherwise, things couldn't possibly be this quiet.
At the Dog Hole, he was already inside the den, so it was over the moment he felt that ominous presence. And even if he had missed the Lycanthropes because this land—the area in front of Cross Guard—was a place where monsters constantly roamed...
To not even notice the presence of troops hiding atop the wall? They had definitely used some kind of trick.
Up until his sixtieth loop of today, he had tried desperately to figure out what that trick was, but...
'Let it go.'
It was a matter of priority. There were plenty of things more important than whatever trick the mage had used, and his ultimate goal was clear.
To get past today. To train during this time. And thus, to move forward with his sword as his guide.
Did it matter if he gave up on figuring it out? Not in the slightest. He already knew what he needed to know from his repeated loops.
'Around here, I suppose.'
Encrid slowly shuffled to the left while hanging from the parapet. To hang like this, there had to be crevices in the wall. This side of Cross Guard's wall was built to withstand regular monsters and, occasionally, even colony-class threats. As a result, it was covered in scars and chips. Though it had been repaired, there were still plenty of gaps.
With his fingers hooked into the stone and his toes wedged in, he moved with ease. Shifting his position, Encrid visualized the other side in his mind.
When he had first arrived here, he could only guess. But now, he could pinpoint the exact location of the mage, Letsha.
It was a certainty. This arrogant mage had never once moved from her spot in any of his repeated loops.
Having positioned himself, Encrid sent another hand signal.
[You two go first.]
Seeing the signal, Finn and Torres began to move. Finn went first, followed by Torres. Hanging from the parapet, Finn reached down to help Torres up.
The moment they both vaulted over—
Whoosh!
A bright light flared above them. Seven or eight torches were lit simultaneously. It was a sight Encrid had seen more than once.
"How did you get all the way here? My children should have moved."
It was Letsha's voice. Just as expected, she was right on the other side of the wall. She didn't know him, but he knew her. That alone gave him the upper hand. On top of that, he knew her name and exactly what spells she would cast.
"Son of a..." Torres cursed.
"She really is here," Finn muttered.
Hearing them, Encrid reached out. Gripping the edge of the parapet with his fingertips, he pulled his body up with just one arm. It was a display of raw physical strength that Rem and the other squad members had admired time and again. Furthermore, thanks to his training with the Isolation Technique, his body felt even lighter.
He pulled himself up in one smooth motion. The moment his head cleared the parapet, he flipped his body through the air in a forward roll.
It was an acrobatic feat he could never have dreamed of performing in the past. But thanks to the Isolation Technique and the countless times he had tumbled in previous lives, Encrid's body spun in midair and dropped past the parapet.
Uncoiling his body, he landed on the stone floor with bent knees.
Thud!
Unable to break his fall perfectly, a sharp jolt vibrated through the soles of his feet. Right in front of Encrid stood the mage, Letsha. Her eyes were wide with shock.
"Y-you—"
Before she could even finish her sentence, Encrid's hand moved.
Screeech!
It was the Whistle Dagger.
Letsha was surprised, but she didn't panic. Where did this guy spring from? That was her only thought. Naturally, her composure came from absolute confidence. An invisible barrier manifested by her magic surrounded her—a shield capable of blocking a crossbow quarrel fired from point-blank range.
She waited for the attack to bounce off her barrier.
But Encrid's Whistle Dagger wasn't aimed at her. It flew past her, targeting the necks of the four soldiers holding crossbows.
Thud, thud, thud.
Activating Single-Point Focus, Encrid's Whistle Dagger struck its targets with absolute precision. His training had paid off. The four enemy soldiers collapsed. And just before they hit the ground—
Letsha reacted.
"Kyaah!"
A bizarre shriek burst from her lips. Immediately, with a sharp whoosh, thorn vines erupted from the ground. They whipped through the air, lashing toward his waist.
The real fight was starting now.
"Take out the soldiers first!" Encrid shouted as he drew his sword.
Shring!
He swung his blade. Because he was concentrating so hard, his head felt burning hot.
'Cut the thin ones. Deflect the thick ones.'
Encrid moved, basing his actions on the Soft Sword Style rather than the Heavy Sword Style. Though he had never properly mastered it...
"It's good to know at least the basic principles of every style. If you only learn the Heavy Sword Style just because you use it, you're a fool. You have to know your opponent's swordsmanship to counter it, don't you?"
Ragni was usually lazy to the bone, only showing enthusiasm when it was time to teach. But occasionally—very occasionally—he would burn with passion. These were the words he had spoken on one of those days.
Since then, Encrid had learned the basic principles of each style. He had practiced against these vines over seventy times. And now, those seventy-plus loops bore fruit.
He sliced through the thin ones. He deflected the thick ones.
Slash, thud, clang.
Some of the thorn vines were as thick as a man's forearm. The impact was like being hit with a club, but he blocked with the flat of his blade, lowered his stance, and deflected the force upward.
It was the essence of the Soft Sword Style.
"You pest!" Letsha was infuriated. How dare he evade my vines? A mere swordsman?
Her hands gestured, and soon, three vine spears and a vine whip flew toward him. Encrid didn't rely on half-baked instincts. Instead, he widened his eyes. It felt as if he were gathering all of his Single-Point Focus into his pupils.
His eyeballs felt like they were burning. But in exchange, everything became visible. It was as if the world were moving in slow motion.
Once again, he repeated the same actions. Deflecting, striking, parrying, and slicing.
Feelings? He threw them away. Sixth sense? He didn't need it right now. There was no need to rely on mere intuition. He just had to see everything, strike, evade, and slash.
While he parried and dodged two more vine attacks, screams echoed around him. They were the death rattles of the soldiers. Finn and Torres's skills were nothing to scoff at. In particular, when someone else drew the enemy's attention, Torres's abilities truly shone. His skill with daggers was something Encrid had seen firsthand.
"Fine, I'll make you dance until you die."
Letsha swallowed her rage, her eyes flashing. Her eyes, resembling those of a serpent, locked onto Encrid.
Encrid ignored it. Hadn't he already seen this countless times?
The Beast's Heart thudded, as if speaking to him. No, it was Rem. He could almost hear Rem's voice.
"If you're gonna get taken down by crap like that, just rip that heart of yours out."
'Don't worry, you crazy bastard. I won't get taken down by something like this.'
When he didn't even flinch at her evil eye, the mage's vines grew even more ferocious.
Whoosh!
They became thinner and faster.
Swish, swish, swish!
Up until now, Letsha's vines had mostly taken the form of spears and whips. But when pushed, they took the form of arrows. They weren't actual arrows, but their thickness and the ferocious speed at which they were shot were identical.
Could a human block a downpour of arrows?
'No.'
Unless one was a Knight, it was impossible. But if he had to... if a moment came where he had to deflect a rain of arrows... if there was absolutely no way to dodge, what was he supposed to do?
'What else?'
You accept your death and do it anyway.
Was it military spirit? Or perhaps the spirit of an infantryman? No, that was just the kind of person Encrid was. There was no giving up. There were no regrets. He had staked his entire life on the path forward.
Gripping his sword tightly with both hands, Encrid focused through the burning pain in his eyes.
'Connect the points.'
Based on those connecting lines, he would deflect them all.
The thinly twisted vines surged from below, pouring in from all directions. The moment he saw their numbers exceed ten, he gave up counting. Encrid dispersed his focus around his body. This was what he had realized during his battle between the Lycanthropes and the Gray Dog company—dispersing his focus to evade any attacks entering his domain.
And before that, there was also what he had learned from the fight inside the Dog Hole.
Instantaneous judgment. Acting without a single moment of hesitation in any situation, in the blink of an eye.
Encrid combined the two and executed.
Rip, tear, splat!
Soon, the vines in the air before him were torn to shreds, bursting with green sap. Veins bulged on Letsha's forehead, and her eyes were shot with blood.
The vines did not stop. Nor did Encrid's blade.
Finn and Torres, who were still fighting the soldiers, caught a glimpse of the spectacle.
'At this point, saying he fights well doesn't even cut it,' Torres thought as he slit the throat of a soldier from behind.
Thud!
A quarrel flew right into the spot where he had just been standing. With a sharp thwack, the bolt embedded itself into the stomach of the dead soldier Torres had just killed.
"Watch where you're aiming, will you?"
Crack! Argh!
Right on cue, a scream erupted from the other side. It was the work of Finn, who was slithering across the ground like a snake. A soldier, his leg twisted in a direction it was never meant to bend, foamed at the mouth. Finn didn't stop. If she stopped, she would end up pinned by a quarrel.
Meanwhile, the battle between Encrid and the mage raged on. No one could get close to them. Sharp thorn vines flew like needles. Occasionally, a few stray vines would ricochet and pierce the surrounding stone wall.
The soldiers, having no desire to die at the hands of their own ally's magic, all backed away. This gave Torres and Finn a brief moment to catch their breath. Seeing the sharp tips of the thorn vines punching holes into the stone wall, Torres had no desire to get anywhere near them either.
'Is killing these soldiers even going to solve this?'
Torres realized the truth. Ultimately, the outcome of this battle depended entirely on those two. If the mage won, Torres and Finn were as good as dead.
But how long could Encrid hold out? To both Torres and Finn, Encrid seemed to be constantly on the brink of disaster. Vines that he had been dodging easily until now were beginning to graze his body.
Right on cue.
"Did you dare challenge me relying on those scraps of leather wrapped around your body?"
The mage's voice drifted over. It was a low murmur, completely devoid of excitement, filled with the absolute certainty of her victory.
'This is bad,' Torres thought.
And he was right. Encrid was indeed in constant danger. He was rapidly reaching his limit.
However, this was the exact moment Encrid had been waiting for. The moment Letsha was certain of her victory. This very timing, when Torres, Finn, and the enemy soldiers were all transfixed by their duel.
Encrid, who had been swinging his sword with both hands, shifted his grip to his left hand alone.
His right hand moved.
It was his decisive move.