Chapter 502: General Store, Inn, Mercenary, Merchant Guild
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 502: General Store, Inn, Mercenary, Merchant Guild
During their sparring session, Audin realized the truth about Encrid’s current state.
‘He is neither a knight nor an associate knight.’
What was certain, however, was that his skills had reached a new level. It wasn't just that; his movements had become more precise, his judgment faster, and his reflexes were on an entirely different plane. But there was something more.
As they traded blows, Audin looked into his eyes.
Normally, Encrid’s eyes burned with a specific heat—a raw resolve to march toward his dream of knighthood. But this time, something else was present.
It was a sense of conviction. The conviction of a lost traveler who had finally found the right signpost.
And the surprises didn't stop there.
Thud, crack, thwack!
As Audin blocked Encrid’s incoming fist with his elbow, Encrid opened his hand mid-swing and lashed out with the back of his palm. Audin deflected it with a sweep of his arm and thrust his right fist forward, only for Encrid to catch the blow squarely in his palm.
He didn't just stop at catching it; he constantly shifted his footwork during the exchange, relentlessly fighting for a dominant position.
Did being strong automatically make someone a good fighter?
If that were the case, the giants would be the undisputed masters of the continent.
Combat was not so simple. It was a complex tapestry of various elements. For instance, understanding precision and the mechanics of force transmission was far more useful than relying on brute strength alone.
Valaf-style martial arts had originally been designed as a system for the weak to overcome the strong. Audin had further refined it with his own personal insights. To execute these techniques properly, one required a deep, intuitive grasp of the point of application.
Had Encrid ever been particularly outstanding in this regard?
No. In fact, he had been far below average. Yet now, he was grasping the very essence of the techniques and even modifying them on the fly.
He drew Audin’s attention with a punch, immediately secured a favorable angle with his footwork, and then subtly tried to twist Audin’s forearm.
Instead of breaking free with raw power, Audin kicked off the ground, launching himself into the air to perform a tight flip. Despite a build comparable to a bear or a giant, his movements were as nimble as a squirrel’s.
Immediately, Encrid unleashed a whip-like kick toward Audin’s descending shin.
Thwack!
Since he couldn't deflect it in mid-air, Audin braced himself and took the hit. His dense muscles acted as armor that couldn't be pierced by a single kick from Encrid, so enduring it wasn't difficult.
What truly stunned Audin was the process that led to that moment—the battle of wits, the understanding of force, and the deep reflection that penetrated the essence of the martial art.
But despite his surprise, Audin didn't say much. He simply observed the man before him and asked, “Are you having fun?”
Since Encrid was attacking with a brighter smile than ever before, it was a natural question.
“Yeah.”
Encrid nodded, sweat dripping from his forehead to the tip of his chin. Audin chuckled and stepped back. If he deliberately closed the distance to use joint locks, he could still handle him, but in a pure striking match, it would be difficult to overwhelm Encrid quickly.
What if Encrid held a sword? What if they fought to the death?
‘I would be pushed back.’
Audin readily admitted it to himself. Of course, the outcome of a life-or-death struggle was never set in stone—no one there was ignorant of that truth—but looking strictly at their current forms, he was falling behind. Audin laughed, finding it both absurd and deeply gratifying.
“Hey, wildcat! Want me to crop your hair close for you?”
On the other side of the grounds, Rem was busy picking a fight with Sachsen. Nearby, Frok trained with a whip and sword, while Teresa watched the sparring while spinning her shield.
She was up next.
“I’ve learned a lot from Brother Audin,” Teresa said, stepping forward with her shield.
Encrid took a long breath to steady his racing heart and nodded. “I’ve improved a bit, too.”
It was far more than just "a bit."
Regardless, they fought and fought again.
While Ropode gasped in admiration from the sidelines, Pel, watching from a corner of the training ground, felt his pupils tremble violently.
‘What is this? What is going on?’
Pel had never once felt frustrated by looking at someone else’s skill before. When it came to pure talent, he believed he was the best. He was a man who gauged the future rather than just the present; Pel believed that as long as he was given time, he would eventually surpass them all.
‘Starting with the Captain.’
He had even made a mental list. ‘Should the grey-haired one be next?’
He had nearly despaired when he saw Ragna become a knight, but he had ultimately overcome it. He had taken a step forward. Pel thought he had escaped the swamp of despair. No—he had been sure of it.
‘I can do it, too.’
He had intended to spar with Encrid once the man returned, planning to smugly tell him, "Let me teach you a thing or two."
But what was this?
The barbarian named Rem had returned as a monster who could fight on par with a knight. One could write that man off as an anomaly, but the real shock was Encrid.
Encrid was an opponent Pel was certain he would catch up to in no time. If Encrid’s skills had improved simply because of time and effort, then Pel could just do the same. After all, his own talent was superior.
So he had done exactly that.
He had dedicated himself to training, forgetting the difference between day and night. Prepared to lose, he had joined in when Ropode challenged Ragna, and he had rolled in the dirt during the training sessions of that religious fanatic bear, Audin.
It was agonizing. He had never worked this hard since he first picked up a sword. But believing there was pleasure after pain, he endured because he could feel himself growing. Since the patience was so bitter, the fruit would surely be sweet. That was what kept Pel going.
It had to be that way. That was the way of the world—at least, the world as Pel saw it.
But what on earth was this? Looking at Encrid now, any confidence of winning completely vanished. What did it mean to expect defeat from the very start?
Pel had good eyes, and he knew that Encrid’s current skill was exceptionally formidable. The power behind each swing, the tactical depth, the reflexes, and the judgment...
Self-doubt reared its ugly head.
‘Is my talent actually pathetic?’
A crack formed in Pel’s heart. To be precise, the crack that had started when he saw Ragna began to splinter wide open. Without him even realizing it, Pel’s expression stiffened into a mask. He was in a state where he wouldn't be able to laugh even if he heard the funniest joke in the world.
“Fiancé, shouldn't you play with me too?”
Sinar and Encrid stood facing each other. Pel saw the scene, but his eyes were no longer focused on the present. What did some elf matter?
‘If I have no talent, what should I do?’
Should he just quit everything and go back to herding sheep? But was being the Shepherd of the Wilderness something that could be done with such a weak mindset?
No. Then what?
Enlist as a regular soldier? Here? Why? For what? No, military service wasn't the answer.
Then should he work as a clerk in a general store? Didn't they say the inn was short-handed? Being a merchant guild guard wouldn't be bad either...
He sank deep into his own thoughts.
While welcoming Sinar’s challenge, Encrid glanced sideways at Pel, who was drooping alone and radiating an endlessly gloomy aura.
What’s wrong with him now?
Just as Sinar approached, Encrid saw that Pel’s eyes were completely out of focus. Turning back to Sinar, he saw green eyes more beautiful than emeralds and blonde hair cascading down like a gentle breeze. She was in the middle of tying it back.
With a soft rustle, her blonde hair flowed through her hands like silk—a beautiful waterfall of gold. Though she sometimes used her long hair as a distraction in actual combat, she was tying it up now, deeming it unnecessary for sparring. From any perspective, she looked like a masterpiece of a painting.
It was an otherworldly beauty, a transcendent loveliness distinct from humans. A beauty that one would normally gaze at in worship might, if seen often enough, begin to be perceived as an object of romantic interest.
And weren't the Shepherds of the Wilderness originally those who challenged the impossible?
‘Is that it?’
His intuition didn't flare up, but looking at the sequence of events, the flow of things became clear. Encrid’s eyes gleamed.
“It would be best if you were more careful about calling me your fiancé from now on.”
Though he had become a general and would speak informally when in a hurry, he still felt more comfortable using polite speech with Sinar.
Sinar paused with her hands still raised, tilting her head. “Why?”
“It would just be better if you didn't.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then there’s nothing I can do, but...”
If she refused, what could he do? It wasn't as if Sinar would listen to him even if he beat her in a fight. In terms of stubbornness, she was likely the most obstinate person he knew.
“Hey, I told you to go to the temple already,” Rem said, looking at Encrid. He spoke because he realized exactly why Encrid was saying such things.
That guy is barking up the wrong tree again.
Sachsen’s gaze also shifted between Encrid and Pel.
“Hmph.”
It was just a light cough, but the meaning was clear. He had just heard utter nonsense.
“Someone is shedding tears over that single word,” Encrid said to Sinar once more. He was trying to be considerate in his own way. He could at least do this much while training.
Pel still had a vacant look in his eyes. In truth, he couldn't even hear what they were saying. He was merely muttering the words “general store, inn, mercenary, merchant guild” over and over to himself.
“Brother, let’s just get back to sparring,” Audin said with a smile.
Encrid decided to do so. This was as much as he could do for the boy. Instead, he cheered for Pel in his heart. He always respected those who held onto their dreams.
‘Hang in there, Pel.’
Nothing is impossible in this world.
Rem, Audin, and Sachsen had a rough idea of Pel’s state. He had been consumed by the sense of deprivation that came from seeing someone superior to himself. No one here knew that feeling better than them. They had seen many people around them break down in exactly that way.
Back in the West, there had been several such people around Rem; he had tried to comfort them at first, but eventually gave up. After all, they had to actually listen for it to work. A few had ultimately overcome it, but some disappeared, and others gave up their lives as shamans or warriors.
Sachsen had killed all those who tried to prove their own worth by attempting to kill him, so no such people remained near him. Audin had tried to guide every single one of them, but in the end, the results were similar to Rem’s.
Anyone could fall, but some stood back up while others remained down. That was all there was to it. And the three of them didn't believe Pel would truly break down either.
Falling into self-doubt just by looking at Encrid? Perhaps at first. But what if he watched him for a week? A month? Encrid was simply a madman—a lunatic obsessed with the sword and training. Watching Encrid would naturally make him stand up again. That was the logical progression. Of course, Pel was a guy with an exceptionally strong "serpent's heart," so he might go mad with jealousy and never rise again. But that was none of their business.
Still, looking at Pel, Rem did have one thought: ‘This is unexpected.’
He had thought that as a Shepherd of the Wilderness, Pel would desperately fight to overcome it, but instead, he was just floundering on the ground. It looked as if he were thrashing around, drowning in a puddle barely a span deep.
On the other hand, Ropode, who seemed to have been raised gently, was different.
“Please teach me a thing or two as well!”
Even now, he was shouting just like that. He had charged in like a madman even when Ragna was around and somehow managed to survive. And he hadn't just survived; his skills had improved. He still possessed the desire to grow and never hesitated to move forward.
Rem didn't care what the difference between the two was, so he quickly averted his gaze. They would each have to figure it out on their own.
Instead, he watched the sparring match between Sinar and Encrid. Sinar had previously entered the forest and returned fully imbued with vital energy. Though she hadn't told anyone, it had been a half-suicidal act.
“If you dislike 'fiancé,' how about 'betrothed'?”
“Have your skills improved at all?”
Encrid spoke out of habit, and those words magically brought a faint smile to Sinar’s face.
“You should be careful about smiling, too.”
She didn't know why he was suddenly saying such things. Sinar didn't care and raised her sword. Now was the time to speak with blades.
The leaf-like Naidel covered half her face. It was a fact that everyone, including Sachsen, already knew: Sinar was an elf who had already reached the rank of a knight. In other words, she was an elven knight.
*
The sparring match ended in Encrid’s defeat, but his expression was brighter than ever. It was because he had learned and mastered something new.
He had blocked the sword of vital energy—something he couldn't block before—and had even looked for an opening to apply a wrestling technique afterward. In close quarters, Sinar’s body moved faster than ever. Wasn't it said that an elf’s greatest strength was their light body?
She proved exactly that.
As she began to circle Encrid with light, rapid steps, her afterimages multiplied until there were twelve of her. Luagarne, who was watching, puffed out her cheeks with a croak. Coincidentally, Sinar’s sword slashed Encrid in perfect sync with that sound.
None of the twelve leaf swords were fake. Instead, there was only a difference in sequence—a distinction visible only to those who had reached the rank of a knight.
Encrid had opened the Eye that Sees an Inch Ahead, but he still couldn't block it. To be precise, he saw it, but his body couldn't keep up.
“Your Foresight has awakened,” Sinar noted, seeing this.
Sachsen and Audin looked at Rem, inwardly astonished. Their looks asked: Did this bastard already see this coming back in the West?
“Damn, his skills are just shooting up now,” even Rem looked surprised. Which meant even Rem hadn't known.
Everyone present—or more accurately, everyone except Pel—knew as they watched Encrid that this was the moment he was breaking out of his shell. Encrid was changing by the day.
“Captain!”
And Krais, whom they had expected to return soon, finally arrived.
“You’re late,” said Encrid, remaining seated.
Krais, draped in a cloak and hood, could be seen grinning widely. Behind him were Nurat and eight swordsmen organized like a guard unit. Every single one of them was at least on par with Torres of Martai. In other words, they were highest-grade soldiers. One of them even looked to be a mercenary on par with an associate knight.
The most surprising part was the change in Nurat.
“It has been a while,” she said, bowing her head. The aura radiating from her was completely different from before.