Chapter 224: A Plentiful Harvest
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 224: A Plentiful Harvest
As soon as they returned to their lodgings, Sachsen brought out some ointment.
Finn evenly applied the salve from the small wooden tub all over Encrid’s body, while Krais handled the bandages.
"I thought you were going to die right then and there," Krais said, wrapping the gauze with practiced ease.
"I was holding back."
Krais let out a dumbfounded chuckle at Encrid's words.
"Did you see that woman's forearms? They were thicker than Audin’s."
He shot a quick glance at Audin as he spoke. His meaning was clear: How can you say you were holding back after seeing a monster like that?
"Forearm thickness doesn't prove skill," Encrid replied, his expression unchanging. It was as if his wounds didn't even hurt.
Better to just keep my mouth shut, Krais thought.
He said as much with his eyes and pulled his hands away. The most dangerous wounds had been tended to.
"Um, well... don't be too discouraged, even if the result wasn't great," Finn chimed in from the side. She still didn't truly know Encrid.
Normally, anyone with a desire to improve would possess a terrifying drive to win. It wasn't that Encrid lacked a competitive streak—the company commander Finn had observed wasn't exactly someone who enjoyed losing. So, she wasn't entirely wrong.
However, the situation now was different.
Defeat wasn't the issue.
Encrid had learned a great deal from fighting the half-giant female warrior. He had found something more important than losing, something more important than dying.
It was a sense of fulfillment that sated his burning desire. The satisfaction of knowing he was walking toward tomorrow.
Tomorrow, again.
Besides, it wasn't over. He wasn't dead.
They had merely parted with a promise for another day. Right now, rather than dwelling on his defeat, Encrid felt a rush of ecstasy looking back at the path he had walked and gazing at the road ahead.
In short, he was absolutely thrilled that he could fight again tomorrow. It showed on his face.
A grin—a genuine smile—leaked out. Seeing this, Finn carefully rose from her crouching position, turned around, and mouthed:
Did he hit his head, too?
There was no answer.
Audin, who had been watching silently, stepped forward. The bear-like monster approached Encrid and dropped to one knee to meet his gaze.
Is he going to use divine power on me? Encrid wondered, looking at him with one eye covered in bandages.
"Do you have a hobby of getting beaten up, Brother?" Audin asked.
It was a rhetorical question. There was no way he had such a hobby, which meant the real point was coming next. Was this Audin's way of scolding him? It certainly felt like it.
"No one can dodge every single attack. So, what must you do?"
As if he had no intention of waiting for an answer, Audin immediately continued.
"If you stop here, drunk on the thrill of your body finally moving as you wish, it will be difficult to take the next step, Brother."
As he spoke, he tapped his temple with his index finger.
Encrid didn't grasp Audin's meaning immediately. However, he had a hunch that there was something to be gained from those words. Without opening his mouth, he quietly chewed on them.
As the religious fanatic stepped back, the axe-wielding monster stepped forward.
"Hey, you don't need to get pushed back in strength, either," Sachsen said. "Don't just endure it—explode."
This, too, didn't bring instant enlightenment. Encrid simply processed it.
"It hurts less if you know you're going to get hit," Sachsen added.
"Is it fun?" Ragna asked.
Since he could at least answer the last question, Encrid spoke with absolute sincerity.
"Very much so."
When Encrid expressed his true feelings, Ragna let out a smirk. Encrid, his eye and cheek wrapped in bandages, smiled back.
Ragna felt that just looking at that smile made his blood boil with excitement. And why wouldn't it? Watching Encrid fight like that had sparked a fresh fire of motivation within him.
It had been a very long time since he had felt this way. He wanted to swing his sword. Whether he had an opponent or not, he just wanted to enjoy the sword, the present, and this very moment.
He wanted to convey the same message to his captain: Enjoy it.
Encrid's response was that he was already doing exactly that.
Ragna left the lodging and stood in the private training ground. As he swung his sword, a few nearby soldiers began doing the same. Among them, some saw Ragna and abruptly requested a spar.
"I'd like to have a go at you, if that's alright?"
There were those who remained unbroken no matter how much they were beaten during training. Though he hadn't noticed them before, they were now visible to Ragna's eyes.
These were the ones who would grow. They would move forward. They would learn.
"Sure."
He didn't refuse. He gave them a thorough, earnest beating.
Ragna enjoyed today. He was incredibly happy. It was a rare moment of pure satisfaction in a rewarding day.
*
Encrid lay still, doing nothing but breathing.
The Regenerative Body—a constitution that allowed most wounds to heal in an instant, provided one kept refining and polishing their physical form.
What was needed to boost the body's regenerative power?
First was a well-trained body. Even when stationary, an active body naturally circulates blood rapidly. Since circulating blood heals wounds, strengthening muscles and physical power directly enhanced recovery. As physical strength developed, the heart grew stronger alongside it. This was a truth he had realized while training through the Isolation Technique.
Next was proper nutrition. The energy the body required was obtained through what one ate. Audin had said it repeatedly: you had to eat well for your muscles to grow. Eating well was what made resting meaningful.
Encrid did exactly that. He ate well after returning to the lodging. It was a meal of finely ground meat patties stir-fried with vegetables, mixed with potatoes and hardy root vegetables. Hearty and abundant—it was no longer a strain for him to eat like this.
"Order and eat whatever you want, and take whatever you need."
Those were the words Marcus had spoken after the war ended. The phrasing had been more elegant, but the meaning was the same.
Thus, he ate well and rested well. There was no pressure. On top of that, Esther was there.
Foolish human, the Lake Panther said with her eyes as she crawled into Encrid's arms.
"It's been a while," Encrid said, scratching the head of the panther nestled against him.
Esther didn't reject his touch. Rather than a man and a woman, they were more like friends or comrades. Encrid treated her as such, and Esther simply released her magic. Though it wasn't a healing spell, the stimulation of mana naturally influenced the physical body. She was doing what she could for him.
For all these reasons, his body healed with unnatural speed. Dunchabel, who knew nothing of this, widened her eyes at the sight of him.
"You're up already?"
Getting that battered body of his moving in just a single day? It was shocking. She knew from experience, having been beaten by Rem herself. It felt like she was going to end up with chronic ailments. Not that she was thinking of running away, but the pain was unavoidable.
Just because she was a beastman didn't mean she was used to pain. They were a race that fought based on innate athletic ability and reflexes; they couldn't afford to be as dull to pain as giants. Dunchabel had complained about this multiple times, but Rem didn't give a damn.
"Right, let's get beaten twice as much today," was all he would say.
"You said this was training! Not violence!"
Rem would claim he didn't want to hit her either, that it was just necessary for her growth. But sometimes, his true feelings slipped.
"Ah, right. Let's train, train. Twice as hard."
Then he would shamelessly gloss over it. Of course, Dunchabel was in no position to argue.
Encrid replied, twisting his torso to test his waist. "My ribs are still a bit uncomfortable. Have your skills improved in the meantime, former bandit?"
Dunchabel found the term "former bandit" annoying, but she kept quiet. "A little."
"Must be exciting."
What was he talking about? What was exciting about struggling desperately just to survive? It made no sense to her.
Encrid shook off his fatigue and got up after exactly one day.
My ribs have mostly knit back together.
It wasn't perfect, but lying down made him restless. What if that female warrior left? He didn't care where she had come from; he was filled only with the burning desire to fight her again while an opponent of her caliber was still here.
It was no wonder people called him a madman, but Encrid didn't care. He didn't even have the time to think about such things.
There are those called geniuses, the gifted, and the prodigies. But if one wished to reach a height that even geniuses struggled to attain, ordinary struggles would never suffice. One had to be truly mad.
Fortunately, Encrid achieved all of this without even realizing it. Anyone who knew his inner state would have been astonished, but no one could read his mind.
Having slept soundly, Encrid woke with a clear head. He began to think while walking—a habit he’d had since childhood to clear his mind whenever his thoughts got stuck.
As he trudged toward the market, the answer to the question tickling the back of his mind finally revealed itself. It wasn't a sudden flash of lightning; it was more like the gentle, creeping realization of an incoming tide wetting his ankles.
Had I become arrogant?
The things he had learned from his squad members had awakened his body. He felt as though he had gained a talent he never possessed before. Had that become a poison? Had he assumed he no longer needed to ponder and deliberate as deeply as before?
What Audin had spoken of was his original mindset. Ponder, and ponder again.
The female warrior's attacks had been swift, fierce, and precise. They were not easy to dodge.
"It hurts less if you know you're going to get hit," Sachsen had said. To know and receive the blow.
Perceive it through the senses.
Trying to track everything with his eyes was too slow. Had he grown overconfident in his kinetic vision just because his body had changed? Even though he was still lacking? Even though stopping here would mean his dream of becoming a knight would vanish like a mirage?
He didn't stop pondering.
Open all five senses, and throw wide the gate of the sixth sense.
Had he done so, he would have anticipated her first shield bash. Because he had faced so many worthless opponents lately, he had trapped himself in the well of his own experience.
He broke through it. For an ordinary person, this would have been an incredibly difficult task, but Encrid was more familiar with shattering his own limits than anyone else in the world.
Explode.
The Beast's Heart granted boldness. The Heart of Monstrous Strength granted physical power. Was it right to use his heart in a way that merely maintained boldness?
No.
In each and every moment.
Like a snap strike, he had to burst his monstrous strength. Since he couldn't maintain the Heart of Monstrous Strength throughout an entire fight yet, that was the correct approach. Splitting and dividing it even further than before.
Capture it with the sixth sense. Explode the heart in an instant.
It was just as he reached the market that he noticed the atmosphere.
"The atmosphere is strangely tense."
"None of them look like pushovers."
"I heard Bell almost got his leg broken."
Filtering through the murmuring crowd, it seemed something had happened. Only then did Encrid realize that neither Rem nor anyone else was in sight. They were all here, gathered in one place.
"So this is where everyone went," he muttered.
As he walked, those who recognized him parted to make way.
"Ah, you've come?" a soldier asked.
"Oh, already? Is your body alright?" the shoemaker called out.
"Have some jerky," offered a woman running a small shop.
He made his way to the central intersection of the four inns that symbolized the Border Guard. The road was blocked by several stopped carriages. This was a route for merchant caravans; it shouldn't be obstructed like this.
He looked ahead. He saw the woman from yesterday. Thanks to the unique resilience of giants, her minor wounds were already gone. She stood like a statue, her sword driven into the ground and her shield propped up beside it.
Beside her, several other faces were visible.
"Well, I'm the one they call Swallow Blade. Does anyone here know my name? I came because I wanted to test myself against that 'Soldier Who Ended the War' or whatever he's called."
The speaker had thin eyebrows and a sly, disingenuous smirk. A single arming sword hung at his waist. One look at his posture and his well-trained forearms made it clear he was no ordinary fighter.
And he wasn't the only one.
"A crowd of insignificants! I am Edin Molsen, son of Count Molsen! I have come to test my skills against the Independent Company Commander, Encrid!"
A blonde man stepped forward confidently. It was the coachman from before—the son of Count Molsen. Beside him stood a younger man with a similar look, and behind them was a long-faced man who appeared to be their guard.
Not bad, Encrid noted. Edin Molsen looked better now than when he had stood by the Count's side.
Finally, there was one more.
"So, is that fellow unable to come out because he's injured?"
His mustache was gone, but the face was familiar. A name naturally came to mind: Leona Lockfried.
The swordsman from back then?
He was the master of the swift sword who had told Encrid to give up on the path of the blade. The guard of the Lockfried merchant guild.
"Everyone, just wait a bit," Rem said, standing in the center of the crowd. "If you don't like it, you can play with my axe. We had a wild time yesterday, but he'll probably show up again today. Our captain is a bit broken up here."
Rem pointed to his own head, spinning his finger near his ear.
That bastard.
Encrid didn't hide. The crowd recognized him and parted.
"You're saying they all came to see me?"
The moment he felt everyone's eyes lock onto him, Encrid understood the heart of a farmer.
It was a plentiful harvest. Every single one of them looked to be on par with the half-giant. And every single one of them had come for him.