Chapter 498: Before I Knew It, Autumn Had Arrived
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 498: Before I Knew It, Autumn Had Arrived
The journey back was much like the journey there.
They spent their nights camping by the crackling fire, with occasional sparring matches against Rem. Encrid focused on repeating what he had learned and reflecting on his recent realizations.
Did a realization immediately translate into mastery? No, it did not.
'How can I use Will at every moment, even in my sleep?'
It required deep thought. He had to ponder, scheme, and experiment. Nothing ever went exactly as planned, but there was no need to be impatient.
During one of those nights spent under the stars, against a backdrop of the bright moon and a warm campfire, the companions sat together, their faces bathed in the orange glow as they chatted quietly.
"In three or four days at most, the Sky God will shed some water," Rem said.
In the continental tongue, it meant it was going to rain. The seasons were turning. It was the time when the scorching heat faded and the seasonal rains began to pour. For a few days, light showers would likely come and go before a sudden, heavy downpour unleashed itself. The true deluge, however, was still a little way off.
"Ugh, rain."
Dunchabel hated the rain. It wasn't that she had rabies; she simply disliked water. It was a personal preference. While most beastmen tended to avoid washing, Dunchabel was an extreme case.
They had already finished their sparring for the day. Having come across a stream along the way, they had washed their dishes and taken a quick bath. They could have stopped by Thousand Bricks, but since it would deviate from their path, they chose to camp instead.
There was nothing uncomfortable about it. Luagarne procured her own meals, while Dunchabel diligently hunted wild beasts. Sometimes she even caught a large deer, allowing them to feast. Since Rem or Encrid took charge of the cooking, the meals were excellent for field rations.
"I heard you sent someone to the west?" Rem asked across the campfire, moving on from the topic of rain.
"They said they were short on food," Encrid replied, slicing off a piece of the roasted venison thigh—which they had caught yesterday and were still eating today—and putting it in his mouth.
Thanks to a pinch of salt and spices obtained from the west, the roasted meat was savory and rich with umami. Reflecting on it, Rem realized this fellow was surprisingly meticulous. He had been that way since his days as a squad leader. He was the kind of person who not only took on troublesome chores himself but always approached everything with respect for others.
'He was a good listener, too.'
Had everyone accepted him as their squad leader simply because he was a survivor? No, that wasn't it. Encrid knew how to listen to others with care—whether it was Rem’s own words, or the stories of the directionally challenged bastard, the stray cat, or the bear-like religious fanatic.
It was the same now.
Under the night sky with its stars and two moons, they sat clean and relaxed. It had been a peaceful day without a single monster encounter. They sat in silence until Rem asked about the west, to which Encrid replied that he had ordered a massive shipment of food to be sent there.
It would have arrived by now. Was the chief crying, perhaps? He had been a man easily moved to tears since childhood.
And then.
"I'm thinking of heading back first," Dunchabel said abruptly.
Encrid did not brush her words aside, listening intently. Rem reflected on how he had beaten the beastman yesterday under the pretext of sparring.
'Is it because she wants to stop getting thrashed?'
He wanted to scoff, but Encrid spoke first.
"Is that so?" His attitude was casual, as if it were no big deal.
White hair, golden eyes. The campfire cast reddish shadows across the bridge of his nose, illuminating the beastman's face. One light was the red glow of the fire, and the other was the moonlight, shining exceptionally bright tonight. With no wind, the embers of the campfire rose straight into the sky.
Crackle, crackle.
It was a night where the sound of burning wood felt cozy.
"I'm going to the East," Dunchabel continued.
"Why the East?" Encrid asked, turning the spit with the venison thigh propped up by the fire.
Dunchabel was not a fluent speaker, but she did not mince her words. "I think I'll have something to learn if I go under the King of the East."
She wanted to learn more. Who here could understand those words better than Encrid?
Was it necessary? Staying here would be more than enough, wouldn't it? There were plenty of objections to raise, but it was clear she had been agonizing over this for a while. Had she been thinking about this during those moments she stared blankly into space? He had seen her like that a few times.
"Go ahead." Encrid locked eyes with Dunchabel for a moment, then nodded.
"Do you think there won't be anyone nagging you over there?" Rem chimed in.
"I'm not leaving because of the nagging. And I will return."
Atop the days of running, fleeing, and denying herself just to survive, she had built something. Proof. She wanted to show the world that she was not a mistake—that she had been born, had lived, and had every right to keep living.
Fighting was the only thing Dunchabel knew how to do. Therefore, she had to be good at it. But simply being good wasn't the end. The catalyst, the motivation—all of it had come from the man named Encrid.
The reason she, as a beastman, had viewed him as an object of desire? She had once thought it was because she wanted to leave offspring, but that wasn't it. It was because she wanted to be respected for something other than her raw strength.
Was it still the same now? No. She no longer saw Encrid as an object of desire. He was an unquenchable light. At least, he was to Dunchabel.
The problem was that her swordsmanship wasn't of much help. If a beastman who only knew how to fight was weak, what use did she have? Did she still want her usefulness, her proof of existence, to be as a 'woman'?
'I don't want that.'
Dunchabel was honest with herself. Proving herself as a woman? At least not right now. Her experiences in the City of Oara had made her grow. That was the reason she was leaving.
In the East, there was a monster who, despite being a beastman, had risen to the rank of a knight. Dunchabel realized it instinctively: the King of the East would serve as her best guidepost. She would learn his techniques by any means necessary. Even if she had to steal them.
By leaving this place, she would climb even higher. The King of the East and that harsh land would provide the perfect stage. To go there, face death, and survive—that was her short-term goal. And then, she would return to stand beside her catalyst and motivation, proving herself.
Though Encrid's dream was vast, grand, and seemingly impossible, even if the final result was failure, she wished to be a sword by his side. That was Dunchabel's long-term goal. That was her path to proving herself.
"As if," Rem said snidely.
"Brain-damaged barbarian," Dunchabel bluntly shot back.
"Oh, is that so? Let's get you beaten then. A sparring match it is." Rem clenched his fists and made to stand up.
"Leave her be," Encrid stopped him. Rem didn't actually intend to beat her up; Dunchabel's grumbling was worth tolerating for once.
"The road to the East is long." Encrid explained the route to the best of his knowledge. Dunchabel had her own plan.
"I'll stop by Martai to replenish my supplies before I go."
"So you do use that thing on your shoulders occasionally," Rem marveled.
"Yeah. Unlike some people."
Dunchabel ended up getting smacked on the head anyway. Encrid chuckled.
"Laughing at someone else getting hit is a bad habit."
Had it been since Oara? At some point, Dunchabel had started blurting out whatever was on her mind.
"If you act like that in the East, there will be plenty of people wanting to kill you," Encrid voiced his genuine concern.
"If I couldn't even speak my mind, I wouldn't have said I was going to the East in the first place." Dunchabel was unwavering.
"Indeed. If one has chosen a path, it is only right to move forward," Luagarne spoke from beside them as she poked at the campfire.
Crackle, crackle. Embers shot up into the sky, only to fade away. Some dreams would be just like those sparks—briefly illuminating the vast, grand night sky before vanishing. But even knowing that, even if the end was in sight, there was no reason to stop.
That was why Encrid rooted for Dunchabel. Whether she went to the East or anywhere else, if it was what she desired, then it was only right for her to do so.
The night deepened. Two humans wrapped in wide cloaks, one beastman, and one Frok lay down by the fire. It was time to sleep. They lay side by side, feeling a sense of warmth and encouragement. The moonlight was exceptionally beautiful and bright tonight. If someone were to capture this scene on canvas, it might look like a lyrical painting.
Amidst that warmth, Rem, who was lying down, spoke. "Hey, brainless beastman, you want to die? It's your turn for watch."
Dunchabel gasped and sat up. "I forgot."
"Proud of it, are you?"
"I'm not proud, but anyone can make a mistake."
"...You're not wrong, but why do I keep wanting to beat you up?"
"That's because you have violent tendencies. You can't be satisfied without beating someone up."
"Rem."
After stopping Rem, whose hand had finally drifted to his axe, Encrid closed his eyes. Despite having just faced a threat to her life, Dunchabel hummed a tune. Her humming drifted through the crackling of the campfire. It made for a fine lullaby.
*
When is the prime of an ordinary human?
They say a Giant's prime is from birth to death. And they say a Frok's prime is when they are most faithful to their desires. It was true. Luagarne had recently felt her own combat style and overall skill improve slightly.
They say a human's prime is short, but their burning flame is intense. While a prime is a meaningless concept to Elves or Dwarves, humans have short lifespans. To be more precise, youth is the absolute prime for humans and beastmen. The period when those who use their bodies shine the brightest is usually between twenty and thirty. At most, before forty.
Then, are there no humans who grow after thirty?
'Of course there are.'
That was why Luagarne believed that everyone's prime was different. And the proof of that was right before her eyes. Even though Encrid was in his mid-thirties, he was still growing, shining more brilliantly than ever. For those who had stepped into the realm of a Knight, a different standard for their prime would be required, and there was no telling how Encrid would develop by then.
That was what still made Luagarne's heart race.
"How delightful," she said as they walked.
"What is?" Encrid asked.
Instead of answering, Luagarne began to teach. Though her combat prowess fell behind the man before her, she still had much to offer.
"Are all knights the same just because they are knights?"
As Luagarne posed the question, Encrid's eyes began to gleam. It was an interesting question. He wasn't particularly curious about what she found delightful—he could always ask about that later—but this piqued his interest.
"They must be different," Encrid replied. That was what he had experienced.
"This is what the Knight of Writing established. Would you like to hear it?"
The Knight of Writing was the alias of a historically famous knight who wrote texts and recited poetry. He was an eccentric who had shown more passion for teaching writing than teaching the sword.
"I'm listening."
Encrid slowed his pace slightly. Rem, walking alongside them, also listened intently. He wondered how it differed from sorcery.
"What do you think is the first and greatest difference one feels upon becoming a knight?"
"The eyes," Encrid answered immediately.
The change in what he could see was something he had experienced firsthand. It was different when he was an Associate Knight, and it was different now. It was a part of him that changed as he learned day by day. Though he simply said 'eyes,' he actually meant that his entire perception—encompassing the five senses and even the Sixth Sense—felt different.
Rem nodded.
"Using that as a starting point to classify the standards of a knight, the first is the eyes. It is called Foresight."
It was like the eye that sees an inch ahead. In other words, it referred to the keen perception to read and grasp the opponent's intentions from their movements. Though called 'keen perception,' it fundamentally meant the sense used to understand the opponent. Thus, Foresight and insight were used interchangeably.
"After the eyes comes the body: Iron Armor," Luagarne said, her large eyes shifting to Encrid's flank.
It was the side that had been torn open by Rem's kick. Encrid's body was excessively tough compared to ordinary people. He had beaten his body to a foolish degree to achieve this. It was the method Audin had taught him.
"Iron Armor refers to the hardening of the skin across the entire body as Will dwells within it."
Rem nodded again. Sorcery had something similar.
"Next is Strong Legs, the sturdy limbs."
Several more concepts were brought up after that. Seeing properly through insight, hardening in an instant, and strengthening the leg muscles. Along with Expansion, Transfer, Word of Power, and Time.
Expansion meant spreading Will throughout the entire body without obstruction. Transfer was conveying Will to other objects or places. Word of Power meant imbuing one's words with Will—at which Rem hummed and shook his head slightly. Time was said to be walking in a different flow of time.
Even hearing them, half of it was incomprehensible to Encrid. But Rem understood most of it. Even if a few sounded foreign, he had experienced the majority of them firsthand.
"It's not something you can explain with words. You only know once you do it," Rem added as they walked. The minute sensations gained from feeling omnipotence and then controlling it could not be put into words.
Encrid nodded calmly. Hearing these things made him feel as though a blazing fire was surging within his body. He would become a knight. He had run and run with that single desire, finally arriving here.
"And there were two things even the author of this text wasn't sure of."
"What are those?" Rem asked. Since it sounded reasonably accurate, what he had heard so far didn't seem like nonsense.
"They say there is a stage that never runs dry or ceases, which is called Uske. And they say there is a stage where what one possesses is fundamentally different, which is called Indules. They are ancient words."
Rem let it slide, but Encrid engraved each word into his mind. Having come this far, he had realized something anew: regardless of talent, he had to climb up by taking every single step, one by one. In that regard, he had already begun training in Foresight and Iron Armor.
"You said it was the training method of a squad member obsessed with religion, right? That is a training method passed down through generations to forge the toughness of a Paladin, so I can only wonder where he learned it," Luagarne continued.
Both Encrid and Rem had a rough idea of where Audin had learned it. It was easy to guess his background just by looking at his actions.
"I'm off."
At a fork in the road, Dunchabel departed. She wouldn't end up bitten to death by some passing monster. Though she got thrashed by Rem here, with Dunchabel's skills, she would be treated like a monster in any small city. Her night hearing was sharp, and she was more than capable of traveling alone.
"Go on."
"If you kick the bucket on the way, you won't be coming back."
"Since you walk as you intend, that is your true stride."
To the farewells of Encrid, Rem, and Luagarne, Dunchabel waved her hand, turned, and left.
Encrid and the others continued their steady march until they reached the Border Guard territory. As he set foot on the land granted to him under the title of general, a construction site blocking the way ahead came into view.
A new city was rising from the barren land. Walls were being erected. Chiseled stones and crowds of people from the stonemasons' guild filled the area. Beside them, groups of soldiers stayed in pitched tents.
Pitter-patter.
Rain began to fall, prompting the group to quicken their pace.
"How long has it been since it last rained?" Luagarne was utterly delighted. She was a Frok who loved the rain.
Encrid realized that, before he knew it, autumn had arrived. The cooler temperature and the falling seasonal rain—those were the things that welcomed him back first.