Chapter 367: A Solid Stone with a Sharp Mind
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 367: A Solid Stone with a Sharp Mind
The moonlight illuminated the city with a cold brilliance.
Despite the fact that the Moonlight Beast could manifest at any moment, Encrid did not run. He simply maintained a steady pace, his boots making a rhythmic clack-clack against the cobblestones.
As he walked, his eyes occasionally scanning the shadows, several residents out lighting the streetlamps called out to him in greeting.
"Where are you off to at this hour?" one resident asked, his eyes flickering nervously to the space behind Encrid.
"Just a night walk," Encrid replied casually.
"I’m telling you, it’s dangerous out here."
It was a familiar, almost neighborly exchange. Aisia watched them, her eyes darting between the two, wondering when they had become so well-acquainted.
Encrid leaned in and whispered, "He’s a fruit vendor. He’s been complaining about a headache lately because of his daughter’s upcoming marriage. Apparently, she’s fallen for some handsome loafer who spends too much time chasing women."
"...How do you even know that?"
"It just came up in conversation."
While being friendly and unreserved was one of Aisia’s own specialties, she couldn't help but think, Even I couldn't pull it off like that.
As they continued forward, Encrid spoke up. "Sachsen."
"If a commotion breaks out, I’ll be able to pinpoint it immediately," the man replied.
Aisia glanced at Sachsen. He was exactly her type—with his heavy-lidded eyes and thin, neat lips, his looks alone were enough to make women weep. She also had a fair idea of what he was capable of.
His senses are extraordinary.
For three days, they had done nothing but eat, sleep, drink, and spar. It had been a period of intense, exhilarating growth for Aisia.
Had Luagarne mentioned it? That monsters seemed to swarm around Encrid.
Since that observation had come through Frok’s eyes, it had to be true. She had known it intellectually, but experiencing it firsthand made the reality sink in. They were all monsters.
If she had to sum up Sachsen’s fighting style in a single word, it would be Calculation.
Sachsen, who had initially claimed he wouldn't get involved, had ended up drawing his sword a few times. They weren't life-or-death duels like his first clash with Encrid, but they had traded blows. Because they had crossed blades, she had felt the depth of his skill.
He fought by observing, calculating, and predicting. He kept the entire battlefield inside his head, always looking three steps ahead. What made this possible were his razor-sharp senses; his sight and hearing were on an entirely different plane.
Becoming an Associate Knight meant training one's five senses to their limit. Nothing on the path to knighthood was easy, and as a member of the order, Aisia had undergone rigorous training herself. Yet, Sachsen’s senses possessed a unique, supernatural quality.
"If you want to stay one step ahead, you must first know how your opponent’s feet will move."
Her master’s words echoed in her mind. Sachsen did exactly that. He predicted the trajectory of her sword and moved before she did. She hadn't even been able to properly initiate her specialty, Sword Tip Aiming. Without fail, his blade would fly in to intercept her before she could even start the technique—either on a trajectory calculated to disrupt her stance or by striking the flat of her blade to deflect it.
His talent is exceptional.
Of course, if they fought in earnest, Aisia believed she would win. While his ability to perceive and predict was outstanding, the raw momentum behind his longsword wasn't overwhelming. Not that a lack of momentum made his blade any less lethal, but she felt she could handle him.
If Sachsen was calculation... Ragna was a mass of pure instinct.
The problem with this instinct-driven monster was that whatever his heart desired always turned out to be the correct move.
This bastard...
His sword reminded her of the man who had handed her a bitter defeat, forcing her to confront her own past. In other words, Ragna was a monster forged entirely out of raw talent.
A calculating monster and a monster of pure talent. Aisia had never been able to secure a win against Ragna.
"What is this?" she had asked him out of the blue during a session.
"A fast and heavy sword," was his only answer.
A fast and heavy sword. What absolute nonsense. Talk was cheap, but making it a reality was the exclusive domain of the gifted. It was a height Aisia could not hope to reach. It would have been easy to succumb to jealousy, but if she had let that green-eyed monster consume her, she never would have reached her current level.
"Does someone else’s bread look bigger to you? There are plenty of bastards with better techniques than you. They’re everywhere."
Her master’s teachings returned to her once more. That was how much she had realized during these sparring sessions.
My own path is excellent, too.
The opponent’s style might look better, but she simply had to crush it with her own. To blame talent, hit a limit, and back down—Aisia possessed far too much pride and skill for that.
"If the mind crumbles, the will crumbles; if the will crumbles, the sword crumbles as well."
By repeating this like a mantra, she used her jealousy as a mere stimulant. That was Aisia’s secret to self-improvement.
Then there was Rem. Looking at him, she didn't know what to think. Is he a crazy bastard, or a crazy genius?
He was both.
If Sachsen was calculation and Ragna was instinct, Rem was...
"How’s that? Can’t block it, can you?"
Amusement. He was a man who lived for the thrill. His techniques were never consistent; most were improvised on the spot. He was unpredictable and violent, charging in while completely ignoring minor wounds. Ragna was also spontaneous, but Rem was in a different category entirely. He fought purely for the fun of it.
What made this possible was, of course, talent. Rem layered years of experience on top of that natural gift. He made nonsensical movements make sense—a barbarian who fought for the sheer joy of the chaos.
"How about this?"
The most impressive technique he had shown was while neutralizing her Sword Tip Aiming. What should she call it? Axe Blade Aiming? Axe Blade Shielding?
He had caught the tip of her sword with the flat of his axe blade, killing its momentum instantly. It was a bold, bizarre move. And when he closed the distance after that...
It was terrifying.
A madman is always scarier than a violent one. The "Crazy Barbarian" looked as though he would gladly take a blade to his own vitals if it meant he could enjoy the fight a moment longer.
But was Rem the most fascinating of them all? No. There was still Encrid.
Fascinating, and endlessly unique.
Aisia could not shake that thought as she watched him.
He is like a stone that has been meticulously packed, compressed, and trampled over and over again.
His basics went beyond solid; they were rock-hard. Yet, he didn't lack flexibility. His swordsmanship felt as though he had repeated the fundamentals tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times until they were perfectly fused to his soul. It was as if he had rebuilt the very beginning over and over to forge an unbreakable earthenware vessel.
It was mesmerizing. Normally, people play to their strengths and develop based on their natural aptitude. Most polish their swordsmanship that way—learning arts, expanding techniques, and making them their own through talent.
But Encrid was the exact opposite. He couldn't move forward unless he understood every single detail perfectly. This wasn't a path traversed through talent; it was a sword that had forced its way through by constantly reflecting on, dissecting, and drilling into the basics. He was a human who had crashed against his limits again and again, yet ultimately shattered them to forge ahead.
Limits usually eat away at a person. They erode the will and breed despair, making one think of surrender.
He overcame all of that?
Surely not. It had to be her imagination. Then how on earth did he rise to his current level? She found it utterly baffling. She didn't know much else, but she knew one thing for sure: A relentless desire for self-improvement, a drive to move forward no matter the cost, is his foundation.
Just looking at him made the word "relentless" spring to mind. A quiet madness that would make him smile even on the brink of death. Even while sparring with her, he never stopped training. When she saw him having the beastwoman, Dunchabel, throw heavy stones at his ribs so he could practice absorbing the impact, she could only shake her head in disbelief.
These were methods not even found in the training of the holy orders. She had once seen a priest breaking stones with his palm as a form of spiritual discipline, and Encrid felt just like that. Every time he trained, that quiet madness was visible.
Dunchabel’s skills and talent were also out of the ordinary, but Aisia wasn't sure yet if she was "exceptional." Regardless, she was curious. How on earth did Encrid gather a group like this?
If she had known that this group had started because the former Border Guard Battalion Commander—who was currently walking a political tightrope in the royal palace—had thrown them together to sink or swim, Aisia would have been dumbfounded.
In any case, they were a fascinating bunch. As she sorted through her thoughts, they reached a junction where several alleyways branched out.
"Let's split up here," Encrid said.
They were in a place where darkness clung to every corner—an area adjacent to the slums, where criminal guilds coiled like serpents.
"Here?" Aisia asked.
"Here," Encrid confirmed.
"Why?"
"I'll explain as we go. Aisia, you come with me. Ragna, go with Dunchabel. Sachsen and Rem, split up."
If those two were kept together, trouble would surely brew. Aisia knew this well, even after only a few days. And Ragna was the kind of man who would get lost even if you were just taking him for a walk around a mansion.
"The bastard who loses him is a dumbass, a loser, a total idiot," Rem hummed, putting bizarre lyrics to a strange tune before disappearing into an alleyway.
"Well then."
Encrid took a step toward the alley, then suddenly grabbed a wall and pulled himself up. Some roofs were flimsy, made of wood and straw, but others were coated with solid plaster. Due to the density of the city, the residential roofs were connected in a continuous line, making them viable paths for anyone with an exceptional sense of balance.
Encrid positioned himself on a reasonably sturdy roof.
"Why here?" Aisia asked again. She was genuinely curious. This task wasn't part of her official duties to the order, nor was it part of her personal vows, but a job was a job. Succeeding was better than failing, and if left alone, more people would die.
"If you understand their habits, it's easy to know your opponent," Encrid explained. As he spoke, Aisia found herself nodding along. "The fact that it only appears on moonlit nights means it's a madness that cannot be controlled by one's own will."
It made sense. Since it was a form of madness, control was impossible, and where control failed, traces were left behind.
"If they could control it perfectly, they wouldn't have caused such a loud commotion in the first place."
This was also true. If Aisia had to secretly kill someone, she would select a target, map their movements, and finish them in a secluded spot. Even without assassination training, that was the logical path.
Excluding the single priest, the victims so far were all commoners. Encrid had investigated the timing of the incidents thoroughly.
"The rain that fell for days would have worsened the madness. And if they are affected by the moonlight, a full moon will trigger powerful urges within them."
"If I were afflicted by this madness and aware of it," Encrid continued, "I would try to satisfy my urges as far away from my own home as possible."
Those words meant he had already narrowed down the culprit's identity.
The place furthest from the slums and common residential areas?
Aisia’s gaze drifted toward the center of the city, where the inner castle walls stood near the royal palace. The nobles who didn't reside inside the palace lived there.
"Since an uncontrollable urge would cause a commotion, they would need to deflect suspicion."
The explanation was complete. Aisia understood and agreed, but hearing it gave her goosebumps.
"When did you figure all this out?"
"I walked around a few times recently. I just thought it through based on what I heard."
Why is a stone, trampled and compressed until it's rock-hard, also so damn smart? Aisia wondered, her eyes filled with astonishment.
Encrid casually brushed off her gaze. He had simply visited the market and compiled information from the people. The reason Aisia didn't know? Because she hadn't cared to look. It was something she could have figured out if she had actively investigated from the start, but she hadn't bothered to worry about how many commoners had fallen victim. Only because a squire had been targeted did the Associate Knights have a pretext to act.
With the royal palace in chaos due to the civil war, the Moonlight Beast was a secondary issue. It wasn't even the first time such a strange occurrence had happened in the capital. With the Assassin Union roaming in broad daylight, public security was already a mess.
Encrid had assumed no one would conduct a proper investigation, so he did it himself. From the first victim to the most recent, he didn't even need detailed interviews. The rumors had spread so far they were practically ghost stories.
A few words from a fruit vendor. A comment at the blacksmith’s. A tip from a gambling den guard. A woodcutter, a merchant, a bard, a librarian, a waitress, a noble’s guard. He had gathered the pieces and organized them.
The testimony of a monk had been the final piece.
"It was wearing clothes. An expensive-looking coat. With the moonlight at its back, that monster ignored me and lunged straight for the priest."
The fact that it could make rational judgments even while consumed by slaughter meant predicting its appearance was easy. Monsters move on instinct, but humans prioritize reason. If the opponent thinks before they move, one simply needs to look at the foundation of those thoughts.
"Since divinity is a threat, deal with it first. Afterward, cause a commotion far from your own territory to avoid suspicion."
A human turned monster wouldn't have stolen a coat; it must have been what they were already wearing. Since such reports vanished later, they likely stripped naked before the full transformation.
Sachsen’s guess was a Lycanthrope. Encrid had reached the same conclusion.
And then...
Hooooooo.
The cry of a night bird echoed through the air. Encrid judged the sound to be coming from the direction where Ragna had headed.
"Let's go."
Encrid broke into a sprint, and Aisia dashed after him.