Chapter 225: Unchanging Eyes
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 225: Unchanging Eyes
"Get in line!"
Krais stepped forward, acting as if he were just as pleased by this turn of events as Encrid. In fact, the moment he saw Encrid arrive, he had barked the order without a shred of hesitation.
Despite the shout, the others kept their eyes fixed solely on Encrid. Their gazes were heavy with unspoken questions.
Reflexively, Encrid met each of their stares in turn.
First, the half-giant female warrior.
‘Keep your promise to fight me again,’ her eyes seemed to demand.
Beside her, Swallow Blade struck a provocative pose. He shrugged, letting out a sharp snort as if dismissing Encrid as nothing special. It was a crude, transparent provocation.
"I’ve come to repay my previous debt," Edin Molsen spoke in a commanding tone. As the son of a Count, his attitude made it clear he expected to be served first.
Finally, the rapier swordsman—the man who had once clung to the Lockfried Merchant Guild like a blood-sucking mosquito—scanned Encrid’s entire body with wide, astonished eyes. He didn't even attempt to hide his shock. He couldn't.
"Unbelievable," the swordsman muttered. "You’ve actually improved. I didn't think you’d manage it even if you died and came back to life dozens of times."
He was right.
Encrid had thrown away his life hundreds of times to reach this point. It wasn't just a matter of dying and returning; he had literally walked through death hundreds of times to stand where he was now. Of course, there was no way the man could know that.
It was time for Encrid to decide. Who should I fight first?
"Line up? Please." Swallow Blade wore a thoroughly obnoxious smirk, his face radiating an unlikable arrogance. "Hey, you fought that woman yesterday, didn't you? I’m surprised you survived."
His personality was grating, but that didn't matter. His stance and the way his arms hung loosely at his sides testified to his genuine skill. He had positioned himself to keep everyone in his field of vision, his hands dangling right where he could draw his sword in a heartbeat.
Encrid found it fascinating that he could actually perceive these details now.
‘Deliberation.’
Think, and think again. Was it a koan?
The thought surfaced even as he continued to chew on the words Audin had thrown at him earlier.
"I don't care who goes first," Encrid replied, having reached a conclusion.
"...Are you saying you're confident you can beat any of us?!"
What was his name again? Encrid had heard it just a moment ago, but it had already slipped his mind.
"Uh, sorry, but what did you say your name was? Count’s son?"
At Encrid’s question, Edin Molsen’s face flushed a brilliant, angry red.
True provocation must stem from genuine sincerity. This was a different breed of insult compared to Swallow Blade’s clumsy attempts, because Encrid had truly forgotten the man's name. He had been too busy admiring the bountiful harvest of opponents gathered before him.
"What?" Edin’s reaction bypassed bewilderment and went straight into pure rage. He ignored the gazes of the others. "I’ll teach you some manners!"
Edin took a sharp step forward.
"No, I told you to line up," Krais interjected. Having apparently left his fear back at the lodgings, the big-eyed squad member spoke up again.
Edin’s fury redirected toward the soldier. "If you want to die, feel free to butt in again, peasant."
Krais shrugged, unfazed. "It’s just that it’s troublesome if you keep doing this here. You’re blocking the road for the merchant carriages and the townspeople."
"Fine. I’ll kill you first."
Seething, Edin turned toward Krais. His hand flew to his hilt, and the metallic ring of a blade leaving its scabbard echoed through the street. Clang!
"Rem! Rem! Captain! Captain!" Krais cried out frantically, backpedaling with practiced ease. The moment he ducked behind Rem, Edin’s sword halted.
"...Why do I find you so obnoxious sometimes?" Rem muttered as he stepped forward. The two hand axes at his waist jingled with every movement. Slouching, Rem addressed the crowd. "Well, the idiot has a point. Let’s move to a different spot."
Rem swept his gaze across the group, his words directed at everyone. Then, he felt a fresh wave of shock.
‘That crazy bastard.’
He was looking at Encrid. What was the boy so excited about? Rem understood the thrill of a challenge, but this was bordering on insanity.
"Against the three of us?" the rapier swordsman asked.
It was exactly as he said. Encrid was currently measuring his distance against the half-giant warrior, the rapier swordsman, and Swallow Blade all at once. He was acting as if he intended to take them all on in a single bout.
‘He’s going to end up in an early grave like that,’ Rem thought.
Of course, Rem didn't know that Encrid had already failed to live out his natural lifespan many times over.
"That is greed, Brother," Audin spoke from behind. At his voice, the bloodthirsty aura radiating from Encrid subsided slightly.
"Whatever this is, I don't believe we should be causing trouble for the territory," the rapier swordsman said, taking a diplomatic step back.
"Works for me," Swallow Blade added, retreating as well. The half-giant female warrior silently suppressed her aura and followed suit.
"...I did clear out the space behind the inn recently," Allen, the innkeeper, chimed in.
It was a merchant’s instinct. Reading the room, it was obvious these people would be staying in the territory for a while, and none of them looked like the type to pinch pennies over Krona. They all exuded an air of affluence.
Lately, rumors about the deliciousness of Vanessa’s pumpkin soup and herb pies had been drawing guests away from his establishment. To compete, Allen had chosen to offer space rather than cuisine. He had built a fairly decent training ground behind the inn.
"Good," Encrid nodded.
The innkeeper began guiding them, pointing the way. As the group moved, Rem fell in beside Encrid.
"Do you have a death wish? If you hurt your head, you should be resting."
"You’re the last person I want to hear that from," Encrid countered.
Krais, eavesdropping on their conversation, chimed in. "How was it, Captain?" He was fishing for a compliment, proud that his little scheme to organize the chaos had worked.
Encrid had to admit it. He had dug the irrigation channels and sown the seeds, and now, he was looking at a bountiful harvest.
"You can keep this month’s share too," Encrid said, referring to the Gilpin Guild’s tribute. It was a fitting reward, offering Krais the thing he valued most in life.
"Excellent!"
As they walked, exchanging trivial banter, Edin—who had trailed behind the group—finally erupted.
"You bastards! What do you take a noble of the kingdom for?!" If he were a dragon, he would have breathed actual fire.
Ah, I forgot. Encrid thought. He made up his mind and spoke.
"I’ll fight the Count’s son first. Why don't we head inside?"
He was the son of a noble—specifically, the son of Count Molsen, the man who claimed the arrogant title of the King of the North. He deserved at least some semblance of proper treatment.
"You bastard. Fine. I shall strip away that arrogance of yours."
With Edin in the lead, his two companions—one who looked like him and another who stood blankly at the back—brushed past Encrid’s group.
Encrid was satisfied.
The group arrived at the empty lot behind the inn. A building previously used as a warehouse had been demolished, and the ground was now paved with wide blue flagstones. A few chairs had been placed around the perimeter. It was a proper training ground.
"The son of Count Molsen goes first! Everyone else, please wait!" Krais stepped forward, shouting like a circus barker hyping up a crowd.
Encrid expected complaints, but there were none. The others simply watched in silence. While curiosity lingered in some eyes and arrogance in others, Encrid stood facing Edin.
Edin raised his sword, leveling the point at Encrid. "Come at me first!"
Encrid did exactly that.
He strode forward, closing the distance. He hadn't even drawn his sword.
"Are you looking down on me?!" Edin spat through gritted teeth, then swung his blade downward in a powerful arc.
Still, Encrid did not stop walking.
In a way, he wanted to show the onlookers exactly what he was capable of. He wanted them to see what his sword truly represented and what kind of man they had come to challenge.
Some might call it foolhardiness; others, a bold spirit. If he succeeded, it would be hailed as bravery; if he failed, it would be nothing but reckless bravado. Confidence and arrogance were separated by a paper-thin line.
Encrid chose to display confidence.
Watching the descending blade until the very last possible moment, he drew the sword in his left hand.
Clang!
In a single breath, he slashed upward. He caught Edin’s blade not with the middle of his sword, but with the ricasso near the hilt. The closer to the hilt, the easier it was to transmit force.
Thud.
A dull sound echoed, surprisingly quiet compared to the force of the downward strike. Encrid had deflected the impact by bending his knees and absorbing the momentum. Having neutralized the strike, he executed a bind.
Once the blades were locked, the rest was simple. Stepping forward with his left foot to close the gap, he twisted his hips and threw a heavy right punch.
Thwack!
The defense and the attack occurred almost simultaneously, appearing as a single, fluid motion.
"Gah!"
Even with leather armor padding, Encrid’s fist was more than just heavy—it was a deadly weapon. He possessed a level of raw strength that would make even the half-giant warrior secretly marvel. Proving his strength training had not been in vain, Edin spat out a mouthful of saliva and blood from that single blow.
Edin Molsen was better than he had been when he was by his father’s side, but...
‘He’s lacking.’
He was sloppy, particularly in real combat experience. If they had engaged in a technical duel, it might have taken time, but Edin was weak against irregularities. That was Encrid’s assessment.
It had been an incredibly reckless move—approaching unguarded, blocking at the last second, and relying on a punch. If he had made even a single mistake, the momentum would have swung entirely to Edin.
But in battle, nothing mattered more than the result.
Leaving the collapsed Edin behind, Encrid raised his head. "Are you just going to watch from the back?" he asked, addressing Edin’s guard.
The guard knight’s expression hardened, his gaze piercing. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. He didn't seem like the type to avoid a fight, but perhaps he felt it wasn't the right time.
It didn't matter. There were plenty of other opponents.
*
The rapier swordsman was truly astonished.
‘He’s improved this much?’
There was always a gap between assessing someone’s stance and watching them in actual combat, but this was different. Encrid was experienced, bold, and clearly knew how to enjoy a fight.
How should he put it? He could never have imagined that fellow changing so drastically.
‘He’s improved immensely.’
It was like looking back at a barren wasteland only to find it had suddenly transformed into a lush, green field.
"Incredible," he muttered to himself. Encrid didn't look like a genius by any stretch of the imagination, yet his skills were growing at an abnormal, almost frightening rate.
"You find surprise in many things," the female warrior beside him spoke. She stood several heads taller than him.
"That’s because you didn't know him before."
"Only the present matters," she said, her eyes gleaming.
The rapier swordsman wondered where this woman had come from. She was clearly no ordinary fighter. She, in turn, looked at him with a hint of curiosity. ‘Who on earth are you?’ her gaze seemed to ask.
That was all. They quickly lost interest in each other. They couldn't afford to care. Right now, there was someone far more important to both of them.
For the first time in a long while, the rapier swordsman felt a surge of genuine curiosity. He was a man who had once been called the reincarnation of Frok, and he had always been a slave to his own curiosity. He wanted to fight. He wanted to clash blades and measure his opponent’s worth.
But the female warrior stepped forward before he could. "It’s my turn, I assume?"
She was interrupted.
"Sister, why don't you play with me for the day? It seems our brother over there is practically itching for a fight, and we can't have that."
At Audin’s words, the swordsman known as Swallow Blade stepped forward. "You’ve got good eyes, big guy."
He was right. Watching the fight had made Swallow Blade’s blood boil. For some reason, looking at Encrid just made him want to carve the man up.
"Tsk, he’s the perfect toy to play with. I’ll let you have him."
Those words came from the gray-haired man with the irritating eyes—the one who had suggested his captain’s head was broken.
He looks like he’d be fun to carve up, too, Swallow Blade thought.
With that, Swallow Blade faced Encrid. "You’re not bad with your fists."
"I like to think I’m even better with a blade."
Listen to this arrogant bastard.
Swallow Blade was no longer smiling. He was a man whose exterior rarely matched his interior. When he smiled, he wasn't actually enjoying himself. When his expression hardened, it meant he was thoroughly entertained.
‘I’ll have to slice off at least one of his arms.’
Then, those eyes of his will change, won't they?
Straight and upright. Encrid’s eyes spoke volumes about his character. Swallow Blade was an expert at reading a person's nature—and at breaking their spirit. He felt a rush of ecstasy when those straight, upright eyes finally trembled in terror. Just imagining it made excitement surge through him.
‘I want to carve him up right now.’
He would corner him slowly, like preparing a fine dish. He sincerely hoped his opponent wouldn't crumble after just a few scratches. Swallow Blade truly wished for a challenge.
*
Their fight lasted a long time. It was a barrage of subtle tricks and high-level techniques, both men targeting each other in rapid succession.
In the end, Swallow Blade left sixteen cuts on Encrid’s body. Among them was a puncture wound in his abdomen that would have been fatal had it been even an inch to the side.
And yet.
"Well, well. You’re quite something."
His opponent’s eyes remained unchanged.
Swallow Blade stopped smiling. Because right now, he was not enjoying this situation at all.