Chapter 479: A Reason for the Dawn Bird to Cry
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 479: A Reason for the Dawn Bird to Cry
Two giants loomed in his vision.
Encrid stepped forward.
Memories of Jiba, Geomnarae, the woman who cracked jokes, Hira, Rem, and Ayul flickered through his mind—the moments they had shared, the kindness the Westerners had shown him, and the laughter they had exchanged.
These thoughts drifted through his consciousness as he walked.
Were they worth protecting? He believed they were.
"I'll devour you all!"
A thunderous roar erupted from the giant's maw.
Encrid did not stop, nor did he take his eyes off the two behemoths. Could one perfectly gauge an opponent's strength just by looking? No. Did he feel like he would lose, then?
No. Absolutely not.
Encrid did not feel even the slightest inkling of defeat.
The tribesmen called the two best fighters among the giants "monsters." Among the Westerners who spoke of the giants, some showed naked fear, while others forced themselves to summon a desperate courage.
Encrid felt their gazes on him. Their eyes, their stares, and their worries pressed against his back. He could feel the weight of it.
The giants still dominated his vision, filling it completely. Because of them, he couldn't properly see the beauty of the West.
"It's too dangerous alone!" shouted a Westerner from behind—the one who had previously shown hostility, or more accurately, the one who harbored feelings for Jiba's mother.
Was it? Was it truly dangerous?
He didn't know. He only knew that he felt he could do it, and that he wanted to do it.
"One is not enough!" the giant said, looking down at Encrid.
He was treating him as mere prey. Did a man walking toward them with a sword at his hip look like prey? They truly had no eye for talent.
Encrid raised his head and looked into the giant's eyes. He saw nothing but appetite and greed. They were no different from beasts. It wouldn't be wrong to call them monsters.
Ting.
With his thumb, he released the scabbard latch and drew Aker. The blade revealed itself amidst the gentle sunlight.
"Don't interfere," Encrid said. He was addressing Rem, who was following behind him.
Rem furrowed his brow and asked in return, "Why bother?"
He was asking why Encrid was stepping forward alone.
"I think it's only right for the stronger, better fighter to step up."
Instead of answering Rem's "why bother," Encrid gave a different response. It was a firm declaration of his will.
"...Bullshit. Seriously," Rem muttered.
After all, it was true that Encrid was currently ahead of Rem.
The two giants had reddish skin. Encrid wondered what color their blood would be.
As he kept advancing, he suddenly came to a halt. He was at the perfect distance to be struck dead by a swinging club.
Encrid had not neglected his training even after the battle in Oara. Rem had been by his side as a sparring partner, and Luagarne had helped as well. Sometimes, Dunchabel would even step up to spar with him.
Encrid was the same as always. He repeated the same routine: training and discipline.
As all of those efforts blended together over time, a small flower bud formed within Encrid. He merged what he had learned from Knight Oara, what she had left behind, and the fruits of his endless repetition into one.
One by one, the petals of the bud began to stretch and bloom.
"Is it just the two of you?" Encrid asked, raising his sword.
There were those who sought joy in peace. And there were those who shattered that peace.
The ones standing before Encrid were the latter. The ones who shattered peace, threatening the West, its people, and their lives.
*
Luagarne unconsciously gripped the hilt of her Loop Sword.
What is this?
Encrid was the same as before. No, he wasn't.
He swung his sword, executing a long downward slash. It seemed to target empty air. But it didn't. The giant's instep appeared exactly where the sword landed.
This was because the giant had suddenly moved his foot to kick Encrid. In other words, he had swung his sword in advance toward the spot where the foot would move. It was a feat made possible only by reading the giant's posture and muscle movements.
Whoosh, shhhk!
Aker's blade smoothly sliced through the giant's instep, carving and shearing as it passed.
The giant slammed his fist down at the dodging Encrid. Encrid moved to the side, utilizing his Frog Step. Feigning a shift of his center of gravity to the left, he threw his body to the right.
Crash!
The fist struck empty ground. The earth shook, dust billowed, and dirt and pebbles sprayed in all directions.
"You little..."
The difference in skill was clear. Giants knew nothing of training, discipline, or effort. They were born different. A giant who had survived this long and boasted so loudly was naturally that strong.
As the heavy fist struck the ground, the terrain shifted. Beyond the crater, a thin line was drawn through the rising dust.
Luagarne narrowed her eyes.
The line is curving?
A curved line was drawn like a thread. Her Frok eyes guessed the true nature of that line.
It was Aker. It was Encrid. It was the sword he swung. It was also something that contained Oara's swordsmanship. The line drawn by his continuous, long-breathed swordplay sliced through the giant's forearm, shin, and waist.
Spurt!
The giant's waist was deeply slashed, and blood erupted. He wore animal hides, but they were useless. Aker was sharp, and the one wielding it commanded Will.
The dust still lingered, but finding Encrid's presence within it was easy. Two blue lights shone. The owner of those indigo eyes stepped directly onto the giant's instep, kicked off his knee, and soared upward.
"Aaargh!"
The giant flailed his hands in front of him with a scream-like grunt. He had even dropped the club in his hand.
"I'll help!"
The other giant rushed in, swinging with an open palm. The giant with the slashed waist clapped his palms together, aiming for Encrid, who had climbed up to his chest.
Crack!
Naturally, he missed. The palms he swung as if catching a flying insect clapped together loudly, while the palm of the other giant who had rushed in to help slammed into his ally's chest with a heavy thud.
"Argh!" the giant shrieked.
Before anyone knew it, Encrid had stepped on the giant's shoulder and vaulted behind him. He didn't just vault over. As he scaled and crossed the giant, he drew his Gladius and dragged it across the giant's back as if scoring a wall.
Rrrrrrip.
"Aaaaaargh!"
Screams erupted from the giant in rapid succession. Purple blood poured from his waist, legs, forearms, and back. Dropping to one knee, the giant flailed his hands blindly.
The one trying to help gripped his club with both hands and swung diagonally at his ally's back.
Whoosh!
The wind pressure blew away the dust. Encrid had already vanished from the spot.
The club struck empty air once more, and with a wet squelch, the kneeling giant gained a new, protruding nose right in the middle of his nasal bone.
The name of that nose was Aker.
Encrid pulled out the sword that had pierced through the face, starting from the jaw. Blood gushed along with the sword as it tore out with a bone-crushing crack.
Purple blood erupted from his face, and the giant's body tilted forward.
Thud.
One of them collapsed, face-planting into the dirt. He fell forehead-first. It was the same posture as Jiba's mother, but while one had done it to express gratitude, the other was now merely a corpse.
"What are you?!" the remaining giant screamed.
Was this an opponent who required conversation? No.
Encrid swung his sword once more.
Luagarne, being a Frok, did not sweat. Instead, she kept clicking her tongue and rolling her eyes.
A Knight?
No, that wasn't it. Yet, even after searching through everything she had ever seen or heard, this was entirely new.
He is not a Knight.
If she had to classify him, he was somewhere between a Knight and an Associate Knight. Or perhaps, the strongest Associate Knight on the continent.
He wasn't an Associate Knight, but he wasn't a Knight either. Though he couldn't wield Will at his beck and call, a strike forged from sheer willpower erupted without fail whenever the moment demanded it.
It had been the same just now. The speed of his steps when evading the giant's club was different. The speed of the thrust he unleashed afterward was different. It was a thrust similar to the one he had used to kill the ghoul before, so the giant died without even daring to dodge.
The remaining giant grew terrified. Rolling his eyes, he said, "Actually, humans taste bad to me!"
The three giants they had encountered before knew how to use their heads, but this one did not. He only babbled nonsense.
"I won't eat you. I'm leaving! I'm leaving just like this!"
Though rumors occasionally circulated across the continent that giants were stupid, they would never have survived this long if they were truly dim-witted. It wasn't that the giant race was stupid; this particular bastard was just exceptionally low-intelligence.
Encrid lowered his arms as he looked at the giant, whose wrist was half-severed. To Luagarne's eyes, it looked like he was preparing a final blow, but to the giant, it merely seemed like he had let his guard down.
"You believe me? Thank you. I have many treasures. I will give you treasures."
The giant said, stealthily taking two steps forward. A giant's two steps should have been called giant strides, but because he kept his soles flat on the ground and walked while warily reading the room, it looked like a comical creep.
After testing the waters, the giant suddenly swung his club. At the same moment, Encrid swung his sword.
A Connecting Sword, blended with the Heavy Sword Style. As his feet left the ground, Encrid's body glided forward. Of course, Rem was the only one who recognized all of those movements.
It was a strike of that caliber. The advancing body became a line, and the curve drawn by the sword became a blade that severed anything in its path.
Crrrack.
The sword carved through muscle, bone, and nerves as it advanced. Once again, the club struck empty space with a heavy thud.
"Gurgle..."
With most of his internal organs sliced open and a gash over a span deep running from his chest to his abdomen, foaming at the mouth was far more natural than speaking. Yet, the giant's vitality was so immense that he kicked backward with his foot until the very end.
Encrid countered it with the fist holding his sword.
Bam!
Crack.
Bone burst through the skin of the instep. Blood splattered once more. And then, the giant died.
Silence and stillness descended.
Unfazed, Encrid casually wiped his blade on the dead giant's fur clothing. The surroundings were drenched in purple blood.
It was a day with Sun-blocking Clouds, but even such clouds could not block all of the sunlight. Right on cue, as if ordained, the clouds parted. Light poured down.
A sunlight more brilliant than ever before.
Watching this, the chief was on the verge of tears. In truth, the largest tribe in the West had been on the brink of ruin. Despair had approached them under many names: a foreign mage, a curse, and giants.
They had lifted the curse, but they could not breathe a sigh of relief. Because the giants remained.
But now, those giants were dead. They were the boulders that had crushed, devoured, and slaughtered his tribe.
The stonemason who shattered those boulders turned around, bathed in light. No, he turned, then turned back, showing his back. His gaze drifted toward the lands of the West.
"Now I can see it," he said, looking at the horizon.
Beyond the beautiful plains, the continuous line of the horizon was breathtakingly beautiful.
The chief wept. For holding back tears was not the way of a Westerner.
"Welcome the great warrior," the chief said. The words burst forth, soaked in deep emotion. It was the highest praise for the man who had saved his tribe.
"Welcome the warrior!"
Someone echoed the chief's cry.
Hira, who had just woken up and was watching, stood with her mouth agape. She had been shocked when she saw him fight the twins, but what on earth was this?
He had crossed a line. He was a monster. His skill and ability were exactly that. The man Rem had brought had severed the threat to her tribe. That simple fact sent a shiver down Hira's spine.
"Ahhh..."
Hira let out a feverish groan. She felt a thrill similar to when she received a divine possession. Some of the shamans shared her thrill.
The warriors who protected the West clenched their fists. Because Geomnarae knew Rem's strength, he also knew that Rem could never have handled two giants alone. That was why he had dragged his unhealed body into armor and gathered his totems.
Yet, there stood a man who had sliced and diced those two giants all by himself, without even teaming up with Rem.
"He's not just a little better at fighting than that bastard Rem," Geomnarae muttered.
It wasn't a small difference; the gap was vast. Of course, Geomnarae only said this because he didn't know the current Rem.
But Rem shared a similar sentiment.
I'm starting to feel a bit rushed.
He didn't mind losing to Encrid. But this was a bit much. He needed sorcery.
Encrid was stepping into uncharted territory, using his sword as a cane to forge ahead. Rem had no intention of just standing by and watching either.
The hero who had ended the tribe's threat with his blade returned from gazing at the horizon and made a request.
"Some water to wash up, please."
The giant's blood was deeply unpleasant to have on him.
"O Savior!" someone shouted.
A wave of wild enthusiasm and heat swept over the entire tribe. It was burning hot.
"Well, this is certainly a reason for the Dawn Bird to cry," Geomnarae added, watching the scene.
The Dawn Bird does not cry, for it is a bird that moves while guiding the sun. For that Dawn Bird to cry meant something incredibly, wonderfully shocking had occurred.
Geomnarae slumped to the ground. To be honest, he didn't even have the strength to stand. Then, a faint worry crept into his mind.
I did ask him to spar.
He felt like he might have made a mistake asking for that.