Chapter 239: That, Too, Was Not Bad
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 239: That, Too, Was Not Bad
A person’s Will reveals itself through their words and actions.
Because that Will was so palpable, Encrid’s words carried weight. It was the reason everyone had stepped back. He said he would protect them, and if he said so, he was the kind of man who would follow through.
What if he failed? That was a problem to be considered when the time came.
The last one to turn away was Ragna. He stared silently at Swallow Blade until the very moment of his departure, turning back only after tossing out a single line.
"I'll see you later."
Swallow Blade ignored him. Encrid, however, thought it wasn't a good idea to ignore a comment like that.
It's rare for Ragna to say he'll see someone later.
It was not a common occurrence.
As the others retreated, they drifted far out of sight. Once Encrid was left alone, Swallow Blade spoke again, his voice and expression devoid of any humor.
"Impressive. Truly."
The smile vanished from Swallow Blade's face, replaced by a mask of total indifference. Encrid merely watched him in silence, his sword already drawn.
"Let's begin," Swallow Blade said.
A brief silence fell. Nothing happened.
It could have been an embarrassing moment, but Swallow Blade merely twisted the corner of his mouth into another smirk. Looking at his face, Encrid thought it seemed like a forced, squeezed-out smile.
The original plan was for the Half-Giant to charge first. Then, Swallow Blade would strike, seizing any opening created. But the Half-Giant didn't budge.
"Having a chat?" Encrid asked casually.
He intended to ease the awkwardness, but his intent didn't quite translate.
"Shut the fuck up, you."
Swallow Blade glared at the Half-Giant. The giantess stood still, encased in her armor. She didn't even look his way.
If the two of us join forces, we can kill him. Why is this bitch acting like this now?
Of course, Swallow Blade hadn't jumped in relying solely on the Half-Giant. In his breast pocket, he carried something prepared for the most dangerous moments.
If I misuse it, I'll go straight to the grave.
He just had to use it well. It was only natural that the more dangerous a tool was, the more lethal it would be when used correctly.
When the Half-Giant still didn't move despite his call to begin, Swallow Blade spoke again.
"Let's go."
It was a pressing urge. Only after hearing those words did the Half-Giant silently raise her shield.
Encrid looked at her. Her helmet concealed her face entirely. The visor was just a single horizontal slit, barely revealing her eyes, but because they were naturally narrow, even her gaze remained hidden.
That didn't mean he couldn't read the atmosphere. Even without words, a person's mood inevitably reveals itself through their posture.
"Do you not want to fight?" Encrid asked, facing her.
During their past spars, the Half-Giant had unconsciously grown excited, and Encrid had felt it too. It was from before today's loop repeated—meaning a long time ago—but the memory was vivid. Some memories were not easily forgotten. It was a different matter from forgetting a name like Edin Molsen's.
"I am merely fulfilling my duty," the Half-Giant replied.
A husky voice echoed from inside the helmet. It was clearly a woman's voice, but with a characteristically rough edge.
She raised her shield—a gray iron wall. Leaning forward, she kicked off the ground. Her monstrous thigh muscles and ankle strength sent dirt flying as they propelled her massive frame forward.
Boom!
The sound of her foot striking the earth became a roar that shook the air. The Half-Giant’s body lunged toward Encrid in an instant. It felt as if a massive mountain were collapsing toward him.
The Half-Giant herself had named this technique ‘Landslide.’
The tilted shield bore down directly on Encrid, looking ready to crush him into the dirt.
Encrid instantly activated Single-Point Focus.
The bizarre experience of his surroundings slowing down—a technique that consumed his concentration, one he had now grown accustomed to—took hold. Even in this state of hyper-focus, the speed of the oncoming shield was overwhelming.
He judged that merely tilting his own shield toward the sky to deflect the charge would be impossible.
Then, what should he do? If he couldn't block it head-on, what about parrying it aside?
His opponent's enthusiasm had waned, but Encrid's had not. Just as he was about to move in response to the shield charge—the Landslide—he felt a prickling sensation of killing intent at the back of his head.
His sixth sense flared. His sense of evasion naturally primed itself.
That bastard Swallow Blade was playing tricks. To Encrid, that, too, was not bad.
Since it actually seems like it'll be fun.
A smile appeared on his face. Seeing it made Swallow Blade feel like he was going to go mad with irritation. The murderous intent he had suppressed all this time surged in an instant.
Die.
Muttering inwardly, Swallow Blade placed his hand on his belt and whipped it forward. It was the very weapon that had earned him his moniker.
A flexible sword made of thin wrought iron.
What had looked like a simple belt wrapped around his waist transformed into a blade, stretching straight forward. It was half again as long as a normal longsword, resembling a pointed iron whip.
Clatter-shring!
With the sound of the thin blade rippling, the tip of the sword flew like a venomous snake, aiming straight for the back of Encrid's head—just as Encrid was raising his left hand toward the shield rushing at him like a mountain.
*
"I keep thinking this is because of me," Krais muttered. At the sound, Rem glanced sideways at him.
"Why?"
"The guide map. And I left things loose even though I knew the risks."
Krais had drawn and sold rough maps of the territory. Those maps must have served as the enemies' guide, and he had failed to use the Gilpin Guild to keep watch when he should have. He hadn't wanted his guild members dying in droves against high-level fighters; he had prioritized practicality. These words came from the lingering guilt weighing on his mind.
"If you look at it that way, shouldn't the battalion commander take the blame?" Finn said from behind.
Beside her was Dunchabel, but the beastman seemed to have no thoughts at all. She merely asked out of curiosity, "Is it really okay to just leave him behind?"
Rem reacted to those words. "Well, if we don't leave him, do you want to sneak back and help? Are you confident you won't get caught?"
Though some beastmen were born with instinctive hunting talents, Dunchabel was not. She was a warrior, not a hunter.
"I think I'd get caught."
"Then why bring it up?"
"If that man dies, I have no reason to be here."
It was quite fascinating how she spoke of this so openly. She was essentially saying she had only stayed for Encrid. Rem thought to himself as he swept a low kick at Dunchabel's calf. Since her training hadn't been in vain, Dunchabel instinctively lifted and turned her leg to block Rem's foot.
Thwack!
There was an impact, but little pain. She had been exposed to enough brutal violence by now to block a strike like this.
"Not bad, beastman brat. Now put your worries away. Are you really in a position to be worrying about him?"
Rem then proceeded to ruthlessly tear down Dunchabel's skills.
"A beast who can't even protect her own hide is worrying about who? The captain? Huh? You're worrying about the captain who recently awakened his Will? Do you even have the confidence to beat that pervert with the weird sword if you go back there? Oh, you don't? But you'd still jump in? Is your brain broken, or did you leave it somewhere? Why do you even carry around a head that can't even serve as a decent helmet stand?"
From "beast" to "helmet stand," it wasn't a perfect rhyme, but it was a wonderfully fitting piece of poetry.
"Four and a half stars," Krais rated the work of the poet named Rem.
Though he worried, Krais believed. He felt the burden of this happening because of him, but he believed in his leader. If he had noticed sooner, he should have prepared tighter defenses. It was a regret, but a moment of regret was enough. Reality was right before his eyes, and he had to face it.
Since it had already happened, Krais decided to trust. After all, it was the captain himself who had stepped forward. Krais still hadn't forgotten the back of the man who had saved him.
Because he is that kind of captain.
Moreover, Encrid's skills had recently improved to an unbelievable degree. He had grown. He was moving upward. So, he believed.
Above all, the moment before they retreated, looking at the black-haired man standing under the blue sky, Krais had unconsciously thought of a single word.
Knight.
What kind of person was a knight? It surely wasn't a title meant only for those with superior martial might.
A knight is one who protects.
The words Encrid had once spoken—just as he said he would protect them, he would.
"What a load of bullshit," Rem grumbled and stopped walking.
Worrying and watching were two different things. It was a real shame they had gone too far to see the fight properly. This seemed especially true for the lazy bastard next to him.
It was a rare display of motivation from Ragna lately. A truly uncommon sight for that crazy slacker. As soon as Ragna stopped, he turned around and prepared. To Rem's eyes, it was a clear stance of readiness. Though he merely stood blankly, head turned toward Encrid without even drawing his sword, he was coiled like a spring.
That's definitely a preparation.
If things went south, Ragna would bolt forward immediately. That was how it looked, though it didn't seem like things would go wrong.
"The Father will protect him," Audin murmured beside him.
It was his usual prayer. Sachsen had long since vanished; the moment they went out of sight, that guy had turned into a stray cat. Esther hadn't even followed them. As the mage who had turned into a human today put it:
"I'm busy. Don't bother me."
That was it. Those were the words of a blue-eyed beauty who didn't have a single worry. A person whose face held a distinct mystique, making it clear she was a mage. Yet, she was a sly one, still pretending to be a panther to the outside world.
Pretending not to care, even though she wouldn't leave the captain's arms.
As Rem chuckled to himself thinking about that, he saw someone approaching in a hurry from the opposite direction.
"Is that true? They took hostages?"
It was Battalion Commander Marcus and a group of swift-footed soldiers. Most of them were archers. The Vengeance Platoon Leader was also visible. As soon as trouble broke out, only a few, including Rem, had moved first. Marcus, having received the report afterward, had brought the archers.
"Yes, but you don't need to worry. They said they'd kill the hostages if we approach, so you must wait here," Krais stepped forward and answered.
But to think the battalion commander would come in person for something like this. Well, I suppose once you awaken 'Will,' you become high-value personnel, Rem thought, staring at the back of Krais's head.
Just then—
"What utter nonsense! Are you planning to trade the commander for a few hostages?!"
Edin Molsen, who had followed behind Marcus, stepped forward. He had faded blonde hair, almost yellow. He stepped up and shouted rebukingly.
"Lead the way immediately! I will personally go and punish them!"
Since when did he worry about the captain so much? Edin Molsen snorted in excitement. His huffing and puffing was no different from usual, except this time, he was doing it out of "concern" for Encrid, which was incredibly bizarre.
"Leave him be," Rem had no choice but to step in.
"What?"
Edin Molsen's eyebrows shot up. The guy had a real talent for expressing anger with his face. He was a nuisance, but they couldn't go killing the noble's son again. That would be a real disaster.
Rem exercised his patience and spoke. "I said, leave him be. Nothing is going to happen."
His tone was near-certain. What kind of bullshit is that? Edin's face practically screamed the question.
Rem summoned his patience once more. "Ah, he's fine."
Rem had been Encrid's last sparring partner. He had lost an axe fighting him, and at the same time, he had realized: They aren't a threat.
The Half-Giant's skills weren't bad, but Swallow Blade was no match. And with the current Encrid... taking off that sneaky bastard's head while fighting the Half-Giant would be child's play.
Besides, hadn't that sly stray cat already made his move?
"We just need to watch from a distance and then go enjoy the show."
Even though Rem said it again, Edin had no reason to back down. "Move, insolent barbarian."
Edin spat out the sharp words and was about to take a step when a chilling wave of killing intent slashed across his neck. Edin thought he had died. No, he had come right to the brink of death.
It was Edin's guard who stopped it. "You go too far."
"I told you to listen. Keep crossing the line like that, and see what happens, huh?" Rem grumbled.
What was that just now? Edin stroked his neck. Intimidation? Or something similar?
"Did you always know how to use that?" the guard asked.
It was a question only Rem would understand. No, Audin understood it too. Ragna seemed completely uninterested; he remained turned toward Encrid, not caring in the slightest who came up behind him.
"I saw it recently and tried copying it."
Was Intimidation something you could just copy after seeing it once? The guard felt he was being mocked, but he did not easily draw his sword. Now was not the time to cause infighting.
"The captain said he would protect and rescue them himself. So wait—that's what I'm saying," Rem said once more.
Faced with that savage momentum, Marcus did not open his mouth. He judged it better to keep quiet rather than bring up his status as battalion commander and end up embarrassed. Truly, a politician's way of handling things.
"We will wait," Marcus settled the matter.
Edin Molsen threw a few more tantrums, but that was the end of it. They stopped and waited.
They didn't have to wait long for news from the front. Though they were out of normal sight, that didn't apply to Rem. He could roughly grasp the situation just by watching the distant movements.
"Let's go," Rem said shortly after.
He could see the situation was drawing to a close.