Chapter 467: The Calculating Eye
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 467: The Calculating Eye
Since that day, the road to the West had been peaceful.
Though looking out at the vast, unending plains made him feel exhausted by their sheer scale, it was truly not a bad journey.
"The sky is high today. On days like this, it's nice to walk while looking up."
Rem was a truly excellent guide. Even though it had been a long time since he had last stepped foot in the West, his skills remained sharp.
"Has nothing changed?" Encrid asked.
"Not a chance," Rem replied. "This land is just like that. It never changes."
And so, they walked while watching the drifting clouds. The clouds repeatedly scattered, gathered, and dissolved into nothingness. A "high sky" referred to a day when the heavens seemed remarkably distant—a sky so clear that almost no clouds could be seen.
Today was such a day.
After drinking the Ground Squirrel Fruit, Encrid sensed a strange presence.
It was dawn. While standing watch, he felt an odd gaze fixed on him. It was faint and subtle, yet distinctly perceptible. In fact, it was stealthy enough that he wouldn't have noticed it at all without his Sixth Sense.
Encrid searched for the source of the gaze. A small shadow darted across the uneven ground and vanished. From then on, he couldn't sense a thing.
When Encrid mentioned what he had seen that morning, Rem chuckled and nodded.
"It's about time those pocket spies showed up."
"Pocket spies? Didn't you say they were thieves?"
Encrid spoke as he wiped the blade of Aker and packed his gifted weapons and bow. This morning's meal consisted of dry rations. Since it was difficult to cook proper meals on a long journey, they had been filling their stomachs with nothing but jerky, salted meat, and dried fruit for days.
Rem had said this would only last a few more days, but in the meantime, Encrid had felt that bizarre gaze in a place supposedly known as a quiet route.
"If we steal and eat their fruit, how pissed do you think the owner who ripened it would be?"
"Did it actually have an owner?" Encrid asked. Naturally, he had assumed it just grew wild from the ground.
"Of course it does. Look over there."
Rem raised his hand and pointed to a tree with dry branches, the kind they had occasionally seen in the desolate plains. Encrid had noticed them a few times before. They had thorny branches with elongated leaves that looked similar in texture to hard wood.
"That's the Ground Squirrel Fruit."
"Which part?" Encrid asked. There was nothing that looked like a fruit.
"That."
Rem pointed to an elongated leaf. Following his finger, Encrid saw it.
"That is it?"
"Is that true?"
Dunchabel approached and asked, her curiosity piqued. Since Rem had repeatedly called Dunchabel for sparring after his match with Encrid, dark blue bruises were vivid around her eyes. Despite being beaten like that, Dunchabel still spoke her mind, showing no signs of being discouraged.
"It is," Rem replied.
The same went for Rem, who had delivered the beatings. The two of them held no grudges against each other, nor did they share any particular emotional bond. It was simply a cycle of striking, being struck, training, and tempering.
Watching them, they were a fascinating pair. One might think some affection would develop over such time, but Rem was always strictly professional. To him, the concept of a "woman" didn't seem to exist in a martial context.
"Those ground squirrels take that fruit and bury it in the dirt. Then, the fruit absorbs the vital energy of the earth to grow. Finding land with vital energy—specifically, the kind of soil where that fruit can grow—is something only ground squirrels can do."
The West certainly had many rare and wondrous things. Encrid realized that the faint gaze he felt belonged to a ground squirrel. Besides that, everything he heard and saw was a lesson. And as a result, curiosity reared its head.
This was the third reason he had come to this land.
"How do other Westerners fight?"
His ability to obsess over a single thought—whether sitting, standing, walking, or stopping—was a strength. Conversely, charging forward with only one thing on his mind was also a weakness.
Rem replied as he looked at the sword-obsessed madman. "Some fight like me."
"And?"
"And some fight differently than me."
"Is that all?"
"Do you want to know beforehand?"
Encrid shook his head without much thought. "No, don't tell me."
In the past, back when his skills were terrible, he would have needed to grasp every detail of the situation and know at least a little about his enemies before proceeding. Otherwise, he would have died. But now, he could afford to be a bit reckless.
So, he could think like this: Let's just face them and enjoy it.
Facing them without knowing would be more entertaining. It wasn't as if he was walking to his death.
Rem smirked. He had expected as much. Encrid smiled too, because he understood Rem's intention. The two extended their fists and lightly bumped them together. It felt as though the flower of friendship was about to bud.
"It'll be fun when you meet them. Ah, you might get annoyed, though maybe you won't, Boss? That stupid beastman will probably get tricked, and they might not even mess with Frok in the first place."
Rem guided the way, searching his memory. They had to leave the plains, keep a small ridge on their left, and walk slightly above the direction of the setting sun. Then, a small village would appear.
Although monsters popped out occasionally and caused headaches, the people living there were warriors, every last one of them. From the continent's perspective, perhaps they would be called rangers living in the borderlands. Of course, in the West, it was simply called a warriors' village. A village gathered with people who all knew how to fight, and fought well.
Now, it was time for a face Rem knew to appear.
Whew.
Rem quietly caught his breath. He was slightly nervous. Because among the people he would meet along this path, one of them would resent him deeply, and that resentment would be entirely justified.
What should I say? Should I say it's been a while? If I knew it would be like this, I should have picked up a few shiny gems on the way. If Krais had been here, he probably wouldn't have let me go empty-handed, no matter what.
He was in the middle of such idle thoughts when—
Tap.
Encrid raised his arm, blocking Rem's path. Rem glanced down at Encrid's arm resting against his stomach, then looked up.
The village he knew was still a bit further ahead. Yet, standing before them was a race whose faces they had to look up to see.
Three of them, in fact.
The figures, who had been clumsily hiding behind a low hill, crawled out.
"Did someone send us lunchboxes?"
"No, you idiot. We're on the outermost perimeter, who would send anything?"
"Then what are those things?"
The three spoke as they looked at the group. Their voices were as loud and booming as thunder—so deafening that hearing them up close would make one's eardrums scream in agony.
Wire-like beards, steel-like fingers, and thick torsos came into view. They were giants.
The three giants stopped talking to each other and blinked. All three held thick, dark-brown wooden clubs studded with sharp thorns.
"Do giants appear quite often in the West?" Luagarne asked.
To her eyes—specifically, through her Talent-Reading Eye—those three giants were formidable opponents.
While the group hesitated for a moment, the three giants quickly sized them up and reached a conclusion.
"Don't know."
"Just snacks, probably."
"Let's eat."
The three giants turned toward them.
Encrid had faced giants before. But he had never encountered giants like these.
What are they doing? Eating? What? Us? Do they prey on humans?
"Froks taste terrible, so scram!" the one standing in the center of the three giants shouted.
The rough roar swept across the desolate field. A heavy pressure weighed down on them. Inside Encrid's body, the Will of Rejection naturally activated.
"Grrr!" Dunchabel's pupils slit vertically.
Swish, thud.
Even in this absurd situation, Rem spun his axe in his hand and gripped it.
Crack!
Luagarne pulled out her whip and lashed the ground. A light cloud of dust rose with the sound of the whip striking the earth.
The three giants strode forward.
"Froks are tough."
"Spit them out after chewing."
"The beastman is mine!"
Cannibalism—no, since they didn't just eat humans, perhaps they should be called omnivorous giants?
The three giants closed the distance. At a glance, they seemed slow, but that was only due to their massive size; they were by no means slow. Moreover, one of the three who had strode up suddenly burst with speed.
With a sudden acceleration, he thrust his club straight forward. It was an unexpected move. He looked like he would swing it down mindlessly, but then he suddenly thrust it? Above all, to deliver such a strike after running forward so clumsily?
Surprise was one thing, but Encrid reacted instantly. His Sixth Sense, integrated through Sensory Technique, paved the way. The blade of concentration, born from Single-Point Focus, revealed itself with a sharp, blue gleam.
After that, he only had to execute the picture he drew in his mind, backed by his physical strength.
Boom!
As Aker was drawn and struck the giant's club, an explosive sound erupted. Blade and club met and parted. Both weapons were pushed back simultaneously. Aker's sharp edge split a portion of the dark-brown club. Splinters of the shattered wood flew to the side.
The giant faltered and stopped. As that one stopped, the other two giants beside him also spread out and halted. The three giants were now surrounding the group.
Encrid looked down at his feet, holding his sword in an upward slash posture. Was this truly the strength of a giant? Even though he had just unleashed the Heart of Monstrous Strength, his feet had slid backward.
Rem, who was holding his axe nearby, tilted his head and asked, "What are you guys?"
Giants—and man-eating ones at that—why were they popping up here? Rem was genuinely curious.
"Roar! Are you scared, kiddo?" The giant spoke intimidatingly, using a tone as if teasing a small child.
Rem had never been treated like that in his life. He raised his head and thought. As long as one of the three survives, we can get them to talk, right?
Judging by how they had attacked earlier, they weren't low-intelligence beasts; they knew how to exploit their own appearance. In other words, they knew how to use their brains. And knowing how to use their brains meant they would understand fear quite well.
"Keep one of them alive and play with him for a bit, Boss," Rem said, letting his axe hang low.
He tucked his chin and lowered his head slightly, but a ghostly fire blazed in his upturned eyes. Originally, there was someone who was supposed to protect this area. But they were nowhere to be seen, and only these omnivorous giants remained.
What did that imply? It meant something had happened here.
That thought grated on Rem's nerves. He channeled strength into his feet pressing against the ground. The Heart of Monstrous Strength pulsed, transmitting power to his thigh muscles. He bent his knees and tensed his ankles.
Rumble.
The ground shook.
"What's this?" The giant continued to play dumb, trying to lure Rem in.
Rem decided to play along with the bait.
Boom!
He kicked off the ground and surged forward. There were things he absolutely couldn't use while sparring with Encrid. For instance, pushing the Heart of Monstrous Strength to its absolute limit. Of course, that didn't mean he could defeat Encrid, since his boss must have hidden just as much as he had.
Whoosh.
Timed perfectly with his charge, a club came crashing down directly toward Rem's head. Rem kicked the ground with his left foot, launching his body forward like a projectile, and with his momentum built up, he kicked the ground again with his right foot.
It was a step that multiplied his speed, though less explosive than the first. It was a trick called Double Jump.
Pop.
The second step wasn't as explosive as before, but it was perfect for adding speed. Having slipped past the club, Rem's axe slashed across the giant's torso.
Slash!
"Graaaah!"
The giant roared like a beast. Their blood sprayed in all directions. Originally, giants were a species referred to as Red-Blooded Demonic Beasts, but the blood of these ones was slightly different. Their blood was a deep magenta, a color close to purple.
Amidst the spraying blood, the giant roared and swept his foot across the spot where Rem had just been. The fact that he didn't just blindly kick but swept wide was proof that he knew how to fight.
Rem slammed his axe against the sweeping leg, using the recoil to bounce away to the side. Naturally, it was a calculated movement. In the direction Rem was moving, another giant feigned a club swing before reaching out with his hand. Rem kicked off that hand as well, dodging to the side.
While Encrid watched this unfold, another giant had already strode up right behind him.
"You there!"
Swinging the club in his right hand to block Encrid's path of movement beforehand, the giant simultaneously reached out with his left hand to pin Encrid's shoulder down. As he did so, he bellowed, "You there!" so loudly that it literally hurt Encrid's ears. Even that roar likely had the effect of momentarily paralyzing a person's body, but such tricks didn't work on everyone.
Having already read the presence, Encrid spun around, thrusting Spark and slashing upward with Aker. Consequently, Aker struck the club, while Spark left a small wound on the giant's palm. Because the giant had pulled his left hand back mid-reach, he only received a minor scratch instead of a gaping hole.
Drip.
Thanks to Spark, deep magenta blood trickled from his hand as well. It was clearly not red blood.
"Where did a bastard like you crawl out from? I won't forgive you! You!"
The giant roared in anger. Encrid stared intently into his eyes. The eyes of the raging giant were incredibly cold. They were just like Krais's eyes when counting coins before a Krona.
It was a calculating eye.