Chapter 454: Teach Me
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 454: Teach Me
“Give up,” the Ferryman said.
He didn't seem to care whether his advice was actually practical.
“Is your current ‘today’ really that painful? Another ‘today’ is waiting for you. All you have to do is go there and settle in.”
It was a persuasion—a half-hearted attempt that lacked any real passion or sincerity. Naturally, it didn't stand a chance. The Ferryman knew it wouldn't work, which was why his attitude was so detached. He spoke as if he were merely going through the motions, saying what had to be said.
The Ferryman had no reason to put effort into it. The crazy bastard in front of him had long since thrown frustration and despair to the dogs; he was looking only forward.
Told to remain trapped in today, he looked only toward tomorrow.
“Do as you wish, then. What can you possibly achieve? I tried to grant a mortal the blessing of escaping death, yet you repeat nothing but foolishness. Stop, and immerse yourself in pleasure rather than pain. That is the path you should walk.”
Even so, the Ferryman said his piece. That was his duty. Encrid did his duty as well.
“See you next time, then.”
A farewell. It meant he was leaving. It almost sounded like a request to be sent back quickly.
Within the archaic-speaking Ferryman, a new ego briefly awakened. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on his oar. An urge welled up to smash the man's head with his lamp and then beat him with the oar, but his ancient persona would not permit it.
“Then writhe in agony once more,” he spat through clenched teeth.
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
Having thoroughly annoyed the Ferryman to the very end, Encrid welcomed a new today.
Screeeech!
The shriek of a Screaming Spider woke him. Today—the loop spanning from midnight to dawn—had begun.
“Good morning.”
With a cheerful greeting, Encrid tensed his abs, sat straight up in one motion, and swung his legs off the cot. Was it because he was so used to barracks life that he had cleared out the parlor to use as makeshift lodgings? Perhaps. At any rate, Encrid preferred it this way. After all, what could be better than having a training ground right outside your door?
“Explain to me how, exactly, this qualifies as a ‘good’ morning,” Rem grumbled.
“Any morning you open your eyes is a good morning.”
Even though it was technically night and they had been jolted awake by a shriek, Encrid insisted on his logic as he gathered his gear. As he moved, he reviewed the thoughts he had organized.
A review.
Reviews weren't only necessary for battles. Organizing what needed to be done while repeating the same day was no different. To be precise, it was a review of everything, from his mindset to his tasks.
Knight Oara had vowed to protect the place of her birth. That was her dream. Her goal. Her conviction as a knight. Her responsibility and duty. Her vow. Her covenant. Through the repeated loops, he had learned the weight of Oara's vow.
I shall not be shaken by anything, and I shall greet even death with a smile.
That was Oara's vow. That was why she was "Smiling Oara."
If she lost her smile, her sword would lose its power. What had to be done to prevent that? To end the repetition of today, the city had to be protected. He had to protect the smile on her face. That, in turn, meant protecting her dream.
“If you smile, you don't lose.”
Oara had no intention of losing to anyone.
If she could just fight in perfect physical condition, she might actually pull it off.
Nothing was certain, but he would try. He just had to do what he always did. Encrid grasped the entire situation, instinctively categorizing and prioritizing his tasks. He missed Krais for a moment, but it didn't matter if he wasn't here. If he was absent, Encrid would simply make do without him.
“Let's go,” Encrid said, now fully armed.
A natural resolve to step forward, fight, and protect welled up within him. Encrid had aspired to become a knight to protect everything behind his back, and this was no different. Just because Oara was a knight, and just because she fought better than him, did that mean she wasn't someone to be protected?
No.
In this regard, Encrid was arrogant and proud.
I will protect her.
He would do so out of respect for her wishes.
“Everyone, run away.”
There was the Oara who had told everyone to retreat because she couldn't protect them. There was the Oara who held her ground, even biting down on the arm of that monster, the Fragment of Balrog. There was the Oara who fought monsters with her bare fists and feet even after her smile had shattered and faded.
At the very least, he would make sure she could fight to her heart's content. Encrid set a new goal.
“Do you think that's possible?”
It was as if the Ferryman were asking. He hadn't actually spoken, but his words had constantly carried that same underlying doubt. It was an irrelevant question. An irrelevant persuasion. A meaningless echo.
He didn't need permission. He had never had permission anyway. The reason he had consulted the Ferryman was merely to speak his thoughts aloud and organize them.
His thoughts were organized.
Leaving the lodging, they became part of the noisy city landscape. As they walked, Encrid spoke.
“Rem.”
“Yeah?”
“Is it possible to fight like a knight in a short period of time?”
Rem looked into the eyes of the madman. As always, those eyes were dead serious. This bastard went completely off the deep end from time to time, and this was no different. Rem didn't know what kind of change of heart he'd had, but he was definitely cooking up another insane idea.
“Do you think that's possible?” Rem asked, even though he knew the answer. Yet, Encrid’s eyes remained fixed. Two blue flames flickered within them.
“The concept of a knight here is...”
“It's a wave!”
Just as Rem was about to speak, a passing unit commander shouted. Encrid gave a brief nod of acknowledgment. He walked as if he knew exactly where he was going. His pace was fast—slower than a run, but a very brisk walk. He was walking ahead of the unit that had warned of the wave.
Rem matched his pace and finished his thought. “I'm talking about using Will. Even I know how to use that thing called Will.”
Will was willpower. Rem knew that. But he was of a breed that walked a different path.
“But I'm on a slightly different side. Even if you try to go down that path, the bottom line is that what can't be done simply can't be done.”
That was that. There was no way to mimic a knight's martial prowess in a short time. Encrid's gaze shifted to the side. The next target of those blue flames was Frok.
“Lua.”
“There is no way,” Luagarne replied, her answer even shorter. To her, Encrid didn't seem impatient, merely focused.
“Why are you asking that?”
“Just because.”
Encrid's answer was simple. Even if he explained, there was nothing he could say that would make sense to them. Should he say he had a plan because he knew exactly what was going to happen? That he wanted to make sure Oara could fight properly, and to do that, he had to fight as well as a knight in a short span of time?
As if they would believe that. As if they would accept it.
Gather those with outstanding talent and weed them out. Weed out those who remain. And from those, select the rarest few. That was what a knight was. There were no shortcuts. Naturally, it was impossible.
But what if it was just for a single strike? Could a single strike change the tide of battle?
“Let's run,” Encrid said, picking up the pace.
Naturally, there were things he had heard, seen, and learned through his repeated todays.
“Roman!”
Arriving at the city gate, Encrid searched for the Associate Knight with the greatsword club.
“...What?”
Roman, who had just smashed a spider monster's head with his pommel and kicked it away, looked back. The black fluid of the monster pooled heavily before him. It had splattered across Roman's face and clothes, making him look utterly terrifying. His fierce appearance made him look like Rem's brother, but Encrid saw hope in Roman.
“That strike from back then—how do you do it?”
Roman blinked a few times, wondering what kind of nonsense he was hearing. Soon, realizing what Encrid meant, Roman spoke.
“You're asking me that now? In this situation?”
Roman asked with his mouth, and asked again with his eyes: Are you seriously out of your mind?
Encrid nodded. “Yes. I want to know.”
“Master, I think this guy is crazy!” Roman shouted.
From atop the wall, Oara burst into a loud laugh. “Why not? Just teach him!”
“Why should I give away my trade secrets?!”
Meanwhile, Encrid thrust Spark into a charging spider demonic beast. The blade, extending far forward with his left foot, was a literal flash of light. In an instant, Spark pierced the spider's head and slipped back out.
Having fought them so many times, their patterns were engraved in his mind. They were creatures that enjoyed surrounding a smaller force with superior numbers. Before they could do so, there were a few key individuals that acted as the core.
Encrid punched a hole in one's head and threw all three of his remaining Whistle Daggers. The repeated todays brought mastery of his skills. This time was no different. Encrid did not waste a single second. Contemplation was contemplation, but training went on as usual. He combined his training with the practical experience of killing monsters.
The daggers, flying with even greater ferocity than before, blew holes through the heads of the spider demonic beasts. When he followed up by throwing a javelin, the flow of the attacking beasts was disrupted. The creatures, which usually moved in annoying, tricky patterns, began to charge blindly in a straight line.
“Hmph!”
The Short-Haired Blonde began to thrust with a relatively thin, long spear. The spear shaft flexed pliantly, and the spearhead multiplied into dozens in an instant, piercing the bodies and heads of the approaching spiders indiscriminately.
A silent scream echoed. Black blood poured from mouthparts that looked like six pieces of iron joined together, gaping open. It was the effect of the poisoned spearhead.
Encrid's eyes observed her spear, her technique. A threatening technique against multiple opponents. She, too, was an Associate Knight who displayed overwhelming power against weaker foes. Since he already knew this, he merely swept his gaze over it.
“Looks like we have some time to spare now?” Encrid spoke after clearing out a swarm of spiders.
“Are you really asking me to just lay bare my trade secrets?”
“Do you not want to?”
“This guy is seriously out of his mind,” Roman said, shaking his head.
“Just teach me.”
Encrid was tireless. If he had time, he would have asked slowly, once or twice a day. But the situation was different now. Beyond his desire to learn and master it, this seemed to be the way to help Oara in her fight. At least, that was how it appeared to him. There was no better way.
So he pestered him.
“Tell me,” he asked, even as he killed spiders.
“Someone take this bastard away!” Roman fumed.
“He's not the type to leave just because you tell him to,” Rem chuckled. It felt like it had been a while since he'd seen Encrid act truly crazy.
Sachsen had once simply taught him a Sensory Technique during the second repeated today in the medical tent. Back then, Sachsen had done so because he knew Encrid would never give up. This man was relentless, obsessive, and utterly insane.
“Get lost, will you?” Roman snapped again. He looked ready to swing his weapon at Encrid instead of the spider monsters.
Encrid didn't care. He was like an unyielding boulder. A rock, or steel, or Ink Gold that would never chip even if water droplets fell on the exact same spot tens of thousands of times. It was a spectacle of Will rising and hardening into sheer stubbornness.
“Puhahaha!”
Seeing this, Oara clutched her stomach with laughter, and Rem chuckled as he split a spider's head. Watching them, Dunchabel felt the sense of foreboding lift slightly. That crazy bastard was throwing a tantrum just to learn a single technique, regardless of the wave. He was a madman indeed.
Only after resisting twelve times did Roman finally admit defeat.
“You crazy lunatic, do you think you'll even understand if I tell you?”
“Probably not.”
Damn it, why are you agreeing so readily?
By this point, Oara couldn't even stand. She was rolling around on top of the wall, laughing so hard she was crying. Rem was satisfied. Everyone around them—the watching soldiers, even the archers on the wall—hadn't they all realized by now? That this guy was a lunatic on a completely different level.
“And yet you want me to tell you?”
“Let me hear it first.”
“Do you think I owe you this?”
“No.”
“Don't agree with me! Stop conceding so fast!” Fuming with anger, Roman began his explanation. “Hey. A knight's swordplay basically has Will infused into it.”
Encrid knew that much. Roman went a step further.
Why couldn't he block Oara's sword? He had asked, and Oara had answered: “I swung my Will.”
It was an abstract answer, but Roman didn't know if the Goddess of Fortune had helped him then, or if it was an enlightenment that came after deep contemplation. However, he had found a direction and moved toward it.
“From your fingertips to your toes, you must make your Will dwell throughout your entire body when performing the swinging motion.”
It wasn't an easy explanation.
“Isn't that what you normally do?” Encrid asked. He used Will that way too. When thrusting with all his might, he applied a sudden burst of acceleration. It was the same when he unleashed his white lightning, and the same for the slash he had named the Giant's Strike, executed with every ounce of his strength.
While Roman spoke, he bashed the head of an approaching spider. With a dull thud, the spider's head shattered from a single punch. He wasn't an Associate Knight for nothing.
Starting with that, the expected monsters began to emerge from the Demon Realm. Five trolls, a bipedal spider, and two owlbears. This time, an extra owlbear was added, and trolls appeared as well. Yet, the dizzying sense of crisis from before was significantly less. Funnily enough, the sight of Encrid trying to learn something raised the morale of his allies. It was an unintended effect. Thanks to that, the timing of the monsters' incoming arrows was also delayed.
Oara wiped the corners of her eyes with her finger as she climbed down from the wall. “Whew, I almost died laughing.”
Not exactly the kind of words expected from a knight with the alias "Smiling Oara."
“So, is there anything else?”
Seeing Encrid persist in asking even as the atmosphere shifted, Roman shook his head in disbelief. “Do you use Will even when you use a fork? What about when you draw your sword? Or when you take a stance?”
The meaning of Roman's words was simple: Controlling every single movement, down to the smallest muscle.
For what? Solely for a single strike of the sword.
Only then did Encrid understand Roman's words. Until he welcomed a new today once more, Encrid repeated what Roman had said, but naturally, it wasn't easy. On the contrary, it felt bleak. Even though he had heard it, his body wouldn't move as he wanted. Was Will something that just moved however one wished?
That was the beginning.
When encountering a single ray of light in the bleak darkness, people speak of hope. Encrid had never given up on anything or let go of his thread, so he did not speak of hope. Instead, the realization he had gained through Roman warmed his chest.
What was he doing right now?
Mimicry. A mimicry, much like how he mimicked Ragna's sword. But could he perfectly copy and use a knight's sword? The bottom line was that he couldn't.
Why? Because the paths of knights are all different. Because their swords were all different. It was a fact he knew from experience. The Knight of Azpen, Ragna, the Mercenary King, and Sinar had taught him this. Therefore, he had to find his own path and move forward, rather than merely mimicking others.
This was the beginning.
Encrid researched a strike on the level of a knight. To achieve that, he had to endure another one hundred and sixty-two "todays." Only then did he reach the realm of understanding. Or rather, it was a realm where his body reacted, even if his mind already knew.
“Making Will dwell in every movement of your toes, down to a single finger—that's it, right?”
At the question asked with full understanding, Roman's eyes widened in this newly started today.
“Fucking geniuses.”
And so, he misunderstood. Encrid didn't bother to clear up the misunderstanding.
Now, it was time to put his plan into action.