Chapter 140: Sure, Why Not
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 140: Sure, Why Not
“We will be learning the Sense of Evasion this time.”
While Ragna insisted he always keep two swords on his person, Sachsen had begun teaching him something entirely different. It was likely one of the skills Sachsen had mentioned the day they killed the giant.
Encrid learned both simultaneously.
There was no need to practice them separately, as what Sachsen taught didn't interfere with his other training. It began with improving his dynamic visual acuity—Sachsen would write a character on a pebble and hurl it, and Encrid had to read it aloud mid-flight.
Of course, it wasn't easy.
Still, he made steady, dogged progress. Now, he could see the writing on the flying pebbles quite clearly. This rapid improvement was thanks to the experience Encrid had accumulated over time—the kind of experience that awakened latent talent. It was the result of a mind that believed in the possible, backed by absolute self-confidence.
Just as a pebble was flying toward his forehead—
“Ambush!”
The shout erupted.
Encrid snatched the pebble out of the air with a sharp clack.
“It’s the enemy!”
Fweeeeet!
“Arrows incoming! Get your heads down!”
Between the commander’s shout and the panicked cries of the soldiers, Sachsen spoke.
“The character?”
The man was truly relentless.
Encrid had two swords at his waist and was clad in his leather armor. No matter how relaxed the atmosphere seemed, they couldn't move around without their basic gear. His armor reeked of sweat, a scent Esther detested, but this was a battlefield where combat could break out at any moment.
Encrid turned and answered.
“Mi.”
“Good,” Sachsen replied, standing up.
But there was someone who dashed out even faster and more nimbly than those two.
“Where are they?!”
It was Rem. Eight days had already passed. Thanks to his spars with Encrid and Andrew’s presence, he wasn't exactly suffering, but he was dying of boredom. The barbarian from the West dashed out, thrilled at the prospect of swinging his axe.
Who knew? Maybe another giant would pop out from somewhere. If so, that would be incredibly exciting.
Rem’s feet were light, and his body was swift. He moved faster than any commander or soldier. Encrid followed toward the commotion. It was near the outer perimeter of the camp, close to the boundary line facing the enemy’s position.
When they arrived, they saw Rem whipping his head left and right. Encrid scanned the surroundings, but there were no plausible traces, let alone enemies. There was only a soldier lying dead, an arrow pierced straight through his head.
“Where is the enemy?”
At Encrid’s question, Sachsen scanned the area before replying.
“They are gone.”
Even to Sachsen’s eyes, the traces were faint. This meant they hadn't even launched a proper raid. They had simply shot an arrow from afar and retreated. Although one ally had died, did this kind of harassment actually achieve anything?
Rustle.
Beyond the boundary of the camp, in the dense underbrush, there was movement. But it wasn't the enemy; it was their own allies. The owners of the Eagle Epaulets, the members of the Frontier Slaughterer unit, were on the move.
“Pursue them.”
At the command of the man who appeared to be their leader, they quickly set off. Watching them slip into the brush, Encrid felt that every single one of their steps resembled Finn’s. They were all rangers—or at the very least, a unit possessed of such skills.
“What the hell is this?” Rem stood in the middle of the clearing, his eyes narrowed into sharp, dissatisfied slits.
“Don’t,” Encrid said, putting out the fire before it could spread. If left alone, Rem would surely cause a scene. “Come here.”
He held him back. Rem looked so annoyed that one could almost imagine his gray hair bristling, but he merely snorted and turned around.
“Those enemy bastards are playing dirty,” Rem muttered, casting a brief glance at the fallen soldier. It wasn't a look of pity; he was examining the arrow. “To bring that crazy bastard back and pull this kind of shit again.”
From the look in Rem’s eyes, it seemed he recognized the projectile.
“Who is it?”
“Don’t you remember?”
Encrid tilted his head. Even if it was in Rem’s memory, Encrid had lived a different "today" than Rem. Since their perceived time was different, it couldn't be helped.
“That bastard, Hawk’s Claw or Hawk’s Nipple or whatever.”
Only then did Encrid turn his gaze to the arrow. The shaft was longer than standard arrows, and its fletching stretched far back. Even without checking the blood-soaked arrowhead, it was obvious: this was no ordinary weapon.
Rem slowly scratched his chin, a lingering sense of frustration remaining. A missed target. Rem had once lived as a hunter, and his eyes instinctively traced the tracks of his prey. Should he chase them? If he did, how long would it take?
As Rem calculated the pursuit, Encrid tapped him on the shoulder.
“How about a spar instead?”
Let it go. The day to face them would come eventually. When that time came, they could have a conversation—one held with axes, not words.
“Sure, let’s do that.”
Encrid turned back after calming Rem down.
Whoosh.
A stone flew from behind Encrid’s head. It was a small pebble that flashed past his eyes in an instant. Passing right in front of Encrid’s face, it grazed Rem’s forehead. When had Sachsen even picked it up and carved something on it?
“Chin.”
Encrid read the character. Though inwardly surprised, he answered calmly. If he had let his guard down for even a second, he would have missed it.
“Good,” Sachsen nodded.
“You wanna die? Where do you think you’re throwing stones?” Rem snapped instantly.
“Ah, you were there? I didn't see you,” Sachsen said, his tone making it blatantly obvious that he was lying.
It was their usual bickering.
“Stop.”
It was their daily routine, but some things had changed. Encrid didn't physically throw himself between them to break them up anymore. Now, words were enough.
“Stop it, Rem.”
He spoke with authority, injecting his will into the command. It was something he had realized while learning the Heart of Monstrous Strength. Rem listened to him much better than he had expected. The same went for Sachsen. For Sachsen, instead of speaking, Encrid just had to give him a sharp glare.
“Yes, I will be careful.”
And indeed, that was the response he got.
As they returned to the front of the tent—
“Did something happen?” Ragna asked, having woken up late. Unless he was watching Encrid or sparring with him, he was a lazy fellow.
“An enemy ambush. They just shot arrows and ran.”
“I see.”
Encrid wondered if the man was actually listening. He didn't seem to care at all. Was he incredibly bold, or did he just have no thoughts?
The latter.
If Encrid were to bet a Krona, he would bet on the latter. With that thought, Encrid raised his sword. He straightened his posture, composed his breathing, and threw himself back into sparring.
In between, he continued his training of reading the characters on the stones. He used Valaf-style Acupressure to loosen his muscles. While learning hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, and joint locks, he did not forget to train the Isolation Technique. And through it all, he never let the two swords leave his body.
“Posture. Your posture must not break, no matter what. Whatever you do, posture. No matter what trick you pull, start with your posture. If your posture breaks, you will get hurt, Brother. You wouldn't want to become a wounded squad leader, would you?”
Ragna was teasing him with his title again. Holding the posture of the Isolation Technique while carrying two swords was grueling, but it wasn't impossible. And if it wasn't impossible, then there was no problem. At least, that was how Encrid saw it.
By the time the sun began to tilt toward the west—
“Ambush! Fuck!”
An allied soldier’s scream rang out. The enemy had attempted contact once more. The first time could be excused as being caught off guard, but they should have been prepared for the second. Yet, once again, an arrow flew in and pierced an ally’s head.
The Border Guard responded. Specifically, a platoon composed of those who excelled in this terrain moved out. However, they missed them again.
“This isn't good,” Krais frowned upon hearing the news.
Encrid ignored it. The enemy was just shooting arrows from afar and fleeing; they were tricky to catch. Moreover, they were using a peculiar weapon—a longbow with an abnormally long range. How was anyone supposed to catch someone who fired a single shot from such a distance and vanished?
Encrid focused solely on his training. He didn't think of it as his business; he barely had enough mental energy to focus on his own tasks.
“In.”
Starting from Mi, he had read all the characters on the five pebbles. When read in order, they spelled out: Mi-chin-ya-man-in—Crazy Barbarian.
“...I wrote all of those before you told me to be careful earlier,” Sachsen offered as a lame excuse.
Looking away and staring at the ground as he spoke, Encrid didn't even feel like responding.
“Bear with it,” Encrid said, holding Rem back instead. Seeing Rem silently draw his axe, it was clear he would have thrown it immediately if not stopped.
A day passed, and the next was much the same. Training, sparring, and occasional enemy ambushes. Beside him, Krais kept muttering about how bad things were. Meanwhile, Encrid entered proper training with Sachsen.
“The Sense of Evasion is, in the end, developing the ability to evade. You achieve this by building your predictive abilities through experience to improve your physical coordination. Your goal is to see and move your body simultaneously.”
As Encrid watched him, wondering what exactly he was supposed to evade, Sachsen drew his sword.
Shring.
The blade reflected the light. Sachsen asked, “Are you going to do this while wearing two swords?”
Was this concern or a warning? Probably both.
“Do it.”
Encrid could endure anything. Knowing this, Sachsen nodded inwardly and decided to pass down one of his techniques.
“If you fail to evade, you die.”
Ping.
A sharp sound of cutting air. Immediately after, Encrid saw a point—a small dot thrust toward him. Even though he had activated Single-Point Focus, splitting time into fractions—
Tap.
“Next time, you will really die.”
The tip of the sword touched his forehead. He hadn't been able to budge. Was it speed? No, it was something else. It was a thrust like a single point, something impossible through speed alone.
He had seen Rem’s axe swings bend like a whip. He had seen swords cleave the air like a flash of light. He had seen enemy thrusts and dodged whistling daggers. But Sachsen’s thrust was different from everything he had experienced. It almost felt like magic, as if Sachsen had folded space itself to make the sword arrive instantly. It was a sword thrust without a single hint, sign, or indication.
“Again.”
Encrid’s eyes burned. It was something new, and he was always ready to absorb more.
“If you fail to evade, you will really die.”
Sachsen’s warnings continued, but Encrid didn't actually die. Things remained the same, yet they were changing. Whether the enemy shot arrows and harassed them four times a day, whether the allied troops fretted, or whether the Border Guard failed to catch them time and time again, Encrid focused solely on his training.
Was the thrust invisible? No. He could see it. He saw it, but he just couldn't evade it. What he needed now, just as Sachsen said, was coordination. From seeing to evading, he had to reduce his reaction time to the absolute limit. If he saw it, his body had to react.
Then why was Sachsen’s sword impossible to evade?
“It’s called the Mu-sal Thrust, but you probably don't need to learn it.”
Sachsen tossed the words out casually, but they only made Encrid’s motivation burn hotter.
“When can I learn that?”
“Let’s talk about that after you finish this.”
“Sure.”
The Mu-sal Thrust was a high-speed thrust devoid of any killing intent. That was why Encrid’s body, which usually reacted to bloodlust, froze up. Because there was no killing intent, his body didn't perceive a threat and failed to react. Right now, he was training to trigger that reaction arbitrarily, allowing his will to summon it at any moment.
“Just watch, react, and do it.”
It wasn't as easy as it sounded. However, there was gradual progress. Though it was at a literal crawl, Encrid could feel his own transformation. How could he not be thrilled?
Furthermore—
“You are improving, indeed.”
Sachsen was kind and generous with praise compared to his other teachers. In truth, the training Sachsen knew was exactly like that—the kind where, as long as one could persist with steady effort while risking half of one's life, mastery could be achieved.
It was just that, throughout all of this, a question kept arising in Sachsen’s mind.
Why am I doing this?
When he watched Encrid, he couldn't help but step in, but Sachsen couldn't understand his own reason for helping him. Since childhood, he had been trained to attach a rational reason to every action. Yet now, he was doing the exact opposite.
For now, let’s just do it.
Sachsen pushed his worries aside. Just watching Encrid brought him satisfaction—a feeling he was experiencing for the first time in his life. Killing people, over and over, searching for information... in all those moments, he had felt absolutely nothing. This feeling was a first.
How could he not be excited? That was why a smile appeared on Sachsen’s face as he thrust his sword.
Encrid had no spare attention to notice the smile. Only Rem, Ragna, and Audin saw it.
“That bastard’s going to kill him,” Rem said, his tone strangely twisted.
“The sparring is too intense. I think it’s my turn,” Ragna spoke of his own greed.
“Haha, it seems our brother is enjoying himself. Still, balance is important; one must do things in moderation. As the Lord said, what would happen if the scales were to tilt...?”
Audin’s tongue grew long as well. All three of them had become grumpy. Krais watched them.
This is really not good.
These guys were swinging their swords without a care in the world, but the situation in the camp was turning into a total mess. He wished the commander or the Border Guard would handle it. Was there no one with a brain, or did they just have no intention of using their heads?
No, seriously, how long are they just going to watch?
In Krais’s mind, there was a breakthrough. If they left things like this, they would only invite unnecessary danger. Why were they just leaving it alone?
It couldn't be helped.
“Hey, Boss.”
Krais didn't want to endure danger here for no reason. Above all, because the solution was so obvious, he didn't want to just let it slide.
“Yeah?”
Encrid, drenched in sweat, turned his head. The heat smoldering in his eyes didn't register to Krais.
“Do you have any intention of suggesting something to the higher-ups?”
Encrid tilted his head, confused.
“I don't think there’s anything good about just wasting time like this...”
Krais began his explanation. He laid out the potential of this unit and what they could do in a concise manner. “...So we have the mobility, and I think it’ll work as long as we can control it.”
It was a simple and straightforward idea. Encrid had experienced it multiple times, so he knew this big-eyed friend wasn't just someone obsessed with Kronas. He nodded.
“Sure, why not.”
He had plenty of things he wanted to test anyway. This could be a good opportunity. It was only natural for Encrid to nod easily.
“Great,” Krais said, looking somewhat relieved.
Encrid nodded calmly. As if this were any difficult task. In any case, the decision was up to the leadership.