Chapter 511: That Was the Kind of Person He Was
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 511: That Was the Kind of Person He Was
It happened the moment he realized how to handle Will.
Keeping Will constantly active at the root of his subconscious left his body in a state of perpetual tremors. At that moment, Encrid knew exactly what he needed: rest.
To be precise, it wasn't just rest he required, but a process of slowly rebuilding himself from the ground up. In the end, it amounted to the same thing. His body would be forced into a period of dormancy regardless.
He had to soothe the rampaging Will and command it to be still.
A dam riddled with cracks and holes could never hope to contain a river swollen by a flood. The dam Encrid had built until now was far too flimsy. Meanwhile, the rushing floodwaters thrashed and surged, pouring down from above and welling up from the depths.
It felt less like a river and more like a tempest.
The scale was immense, but the internal structure was even more daunting.
It’s complicated.
It was as if a tangled skein of thread, rather than a simple, straight line, had taken root inside him. If he simply tried to gather it all at once, his blood flow would twist and his internal organs would rupture.
Yet, that didn't mean anything was wrong. Just as a child learns to take its first steps, he now understood the process by instinct.
Forcing his body to rest was the same. An easy method immediately came to mind: he simply had to cut, reduce, and discard.
But what if he didn't want to do that?
The vow he had made to keep his oath still burned like a fire in Encrid’s heart. He needed another way.
A sense of omnipotence aided him. With the absolute belief that he could achieve anything, various methods naturally surfaced.
Oara had told him to discard complexity, and Ragna had told him to build from the basics. Ragna had even suggested he start by discarding the Valen-style Mercenary Sword. It was because Encrid had accumulated so many disparate things just to struggle his way to this point.
Was having many things a mistake? Surely not.
The formless power filling his body—Will—felt as if it might rupture his organs, muscles, and bones to burst outward at any moment. For now, he was barely holding it in.
He could endure like this; he had learned that much of the knack. But he couldn't use it freely.
If it’s too abundant and cluttered, I just have to organize it. If it’s spread out in a complex mess, I just have to stack it neatly.
He thought of the walls of the Pioneer Village he had seen during the Gnoll Colony crisis, the walls of the city that would soon bear the name Lockfried, and the walls of Thousand Bricks he had seen in between. He pictured the towers rising between those walls—sturdy, solid towers.
Encrid envisioned a tower in his mind. Then, he began to stack the Will contained within his body.
One by one. Slowly. Calmly. Bit by bit.
As he worked, it actually became fun. But beyond the enjoyment, a lingering regret remained.
If only I had more time, I could refine the stones before stacking them.
Instead of roughly piling up unrefined rock, he wanted to shape each one, cutting them into neat squares before laying them down. But to do that, even if he lay dormant for a year instead of a week, time would still be insufficient.
Above all, his intuition told him that wasn't the right path. Refining and carving would have to go hand in hand with training his physical body.
Let’s do it this way for now.
If he felt regret later, he could simply find another way and rework it at his own pace. It wasn't as if he were building a physical tower; it was merely a visualization within his mind.
Once begun, the calm stacking of stones proceeded on its own during the week Encrid slept like the dead. This was how Will was originally meant to be handled. At the very least, to become a Knight, one had to master it this way. It wasn't something to be forced, but rather something to be laid down at the foundation of the subconscious.
Yet, a fragment of his consciousness remained awake in the space between dreams and the deep subconscious.
"I told you to reduce it, but you went and increased it instead, you ignorant fool."
The light-spoken Ferryman appeared occasionally to keep him company. The space between dreams and the subconscious seemed the perfect place for the Ferryman to idle.
His ferryboat drifted slowly—so very slowly—along the river like a leaf on calm waters, the very image of peace. Sitting on small wooden stools aboard the boat, a sense of strange intimacy lingered between them.
"Don't you even feel impatient?" the Ferryman asked, piercing through to Encrid’s inner thoughts.
What Encrid desired could easily be called a delusion wrapped in oaths, stars, and dreams. Wanting to become a Knight with humble talent, wanting to make a living by the sword, wanting to protect everything standing behind him—it could all be dismissed as nonsense.
Yet, he was about to achieve that dream the moment he opened his eyes. Even so, he felt no impatience.
If asked why, it was because he knew there was something more important than simply becoming a Knight. He wanted to be a Knight who protected what was behind him. He had never wanted to be just a Knight.
Thus, there was no reason to rush. The road ahead of him would be much longer.
Encrid shook his head.
"How does it feel to walk a path that requires no one's permission or consent?" the Ferryman asked.
Encrid merely stared back indifferently. The Ferryman spoke again.
"Open your mouth now, you stubborn bastard."
"It’s just... alright," Encrid replied casually, as if he had intended to speak even without the prompting.
Regardless, his words were sincere. Encrid believed that nothing had truly changed.
"I bless your sheer tenacity. At least for today, I shall do so."
The Ferryman spoke, and Encrid opened his eyes. The Ferryman rowed. As the boat moved faster than before, Encrid felt his consciousness drift away.
It was time to wake up. Watching the ferryboat, the river, the Ferryman, and the purple light fade away below, various thoughts crossed Encrid’s mind.
Was his calculation correct? He had estimated it would take about a week. It had merely been an intuition that struck like lightning just before he closed his eyes.
When he finally opened his eyes and returned to reality...
"You sure sleep like the dead."
A pair of gray eyes stared blankly back at him. It was Rem, the barbarian, sitting with his legs wide apart, resting his chin on one hand while casually tapping his axe with the other.
"Now that you’re awake, listen closely. You probably feel like you can do absolutely anything right now, but you can’t. Got it?"
"How long has it been?" Encrid asked instead of answering. Confirmation came first.
"A week. Honestly, I wondered if anyone actually sleeps this much at a time like this."
"A time like this" referred to his awakening as a Knight. Rem had watched Encrid sleep and figured it was indeed possible. Couldn't someone pass out for a few days during such a transition?
In truth, the moment of awakening wasn't the same for everyone. Rem himself hadn't experienced anything so dramatic. As he learned sorcery and repeatedly underwent spirit possession, the concept had naturally opened up to him. It was as if he had already smashed the fence of limitations before even feeling them.
The directionally challenged bastard, however, was different. He clearly looked like he was drunk on omnipotence and trying to control it.
"If you’ve caught the laziness disease, that’s a serious problem," Rem said, not shifting from his posture.
Behind him, Sachsen stood with his arms crossed, looking down at Encrid.
"Suppress your senses. That is the priority."
Encrid stared blankly at Sachsen. Sachsen shook his head.
"Take it to heart." He was not a man who often repeated himself for emphasis. "You might feel like you can do anything, but you cannot. For instance, you might feel like you can reach the East in a single stride right now, but that is not how it works. Arrival only comes at the end of finding the path and walking it. You must not forget that there are things to be done before reaching the conclusion."
Encrid turned his head to look at Ragna. Ragna was poking only his head out from inside his bed. Having just woken up, his hair was a matted bird's nest.
"Yawn."
Seeing him add a yawn after finishing his speech, it was unmistakable. Honestly, since Ragna had spoken better than ever before, Encrid wanted to applaud him. Though, since the example he chose happened to be about finding a path, it didn't resonate very deeply coming from him.
"In his childhood, a water-carrying child asked, 'Father God, why must I carry water?' God replied, 'Must you not fetch water to drink and wash?' Brother Squad Leader, one must fetch water to wash and drink."
Audin stood blocking the entrance of the barracks, delivering his sermon. He looked perfectly in place as a priest in some countryside temple. Of course, regardless of its size, that village would be a terrifying place where any bandits who dared to invade would end up returning as "good ghouls." Since the only good ghoul was a dead ghoul, and the place they would return to would be by God’s side, it would indeed be a village that struck fear into the hearts of many.
Only Sachsen had spoken intuitively; Encrid wondered what on earth the rest of them were talking about. Even so, Encrid understood them perfectly. He was still an excellent listener.
"I’m fine, though."
Regardless of the title—whether Knight or Hero—everyone felt a similar sensation at the moment of awakening. It was a sense of omnipotence. The feeling that they could do absolutely anything. Distinguishing between what one could and could not do was the very first task.
Had they all been waiting for him to wake up just to tell him that? Or had they simply gathered here by chance?
"Are you awake? Do not overexert yourself, Fiancé."
Even Sinar was there. Feeling a faint warmth beside him, he looked down to see Esther, who had transformed into a panther, brushing against the back of his hand.
"I am fine," Encrid repeated.
"Just because you say you are fine does not mean you truly are."
Teresa stood beside Audin, and it was Luagarne, standing right next to her, who spoke.
It wasn't an illusion; everyone had been waiting for him to wake up. They had been waiting for him, the one who had collapsed.
The faces of everyone briefly flashed through his memory. An aged Rem, Sachsen with a distorted expression, Audin spitting blood, Sinar with parts of her body turning faint, Esther who had lost both eyes, and Pel who had stabbed his own stomach. Such faces had existed in the "todays" that had passed.
Encrid raised his upper body, stepped onto the ground, and stood up. He lowered his head, staring at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them, assessing his physical condition.
It was light. His body felt lighter than ever before.
Even so, he couldn't flap his arms and fly through the sky. That was something he could not do. However, standing up, walking out, and performing the Isolation Technique was something he could do.
"Oh? He really is fine," Rem remarked, raising his head. There was no sign of Encrid doing something crazy, drunk on power. Although there was one other strange thing about him, he did indeed seem fine for the most part.
"I told you I was fine," Encrid said as he walked outside.
He was fine, but he was not the same. The sunlight filtering into the barracks, the wind brushing against his cheek like a thin thread, the burnt smell of firewood that had turned to charcoal overnight, the texture of his shirt against his skin—everything was seen, heard, and felt in far greater detail than before. It felt as if he could grasp the wind in his hand.
Naturally, the wind could not be grasped. But he would be able to walk along with it. He didn't mean he would do it right now; these were simply things he now knew naturally.
Running like the wind. Swinging his sword like the sunlight.
Along with visualization, these were things he could achieve by raising the Will in his body.
Encrid went outside and began to move. He had confirmed he had been out for a week. Now, it was time for the next step.
Has it settled properly in my body?
He was certain. He had felt the sense of omnipotence. Yet, wanting to confirm it was only natural. The time that had passed and his hard-won experience compelled him to do so.
As he warmed up with the Isolation Technique, Will naturally moved with him. He could consciously perceive it, but even without looking, it moved on its own.
That meant...
"A Knight," Luagarne said, having followed him outside. Everyone else filed out behind her.
"Seriously. Without a single clumsy trick," Rem added.
Already, when Encrid had collapsed, Will had erupted outward with him at the center. Sinar, with her elven sensitivity, had been the first to realize that Encrid had crossed the wall, but everyone else had known the moment they laid eyes on him.
Encrid had, at some point, crossed over. Even so, it only truly felt real once they saw him stand, walk, and move before their eyes.
"That actually worked," Rem muttered.
When had it been? Was it when Encrid had asked him to teach him the Beast's Heart? When Encrid said his dream was to become a Knight, Rem had mocked him thoroughly because he thought it was utterly absurd.
Yet, he had done it. Humble talent, an ordinary body. There had been a madman who spoke of dreams, saying those were merely conditions. And that madman had become a Knight.
"Phew."
Encrid took a deep breath and let it out. It was a fine day. The wind was cool, and the sunlight was warm. As the dawn dew dried, the sky seemed to declare that today would be a truly splendid day.
Had the Ferryman not said it was a path that required no one's permission or consent? It was exactly as he had said. In the first place, it was not a path he had set out on to obtain anyone's approval.
"Are you going to go find the bastards who mocked you all this time and give them a good smack on the head?" Rem asked.
What would he do now that he had become a Knight? Since he had suffered in the past, how about paying them back? There were those who had condemned him. Many had cursed and mocked him. Even if he didn't hit them, wouldn't they all be so shocked they'd have fits? Watching that would probably be quite entertaining.
"Why bother?" Encrid asked back, cracking his wrists. A series of pops rang out. His body had stiffened quite a bit over the week.
"It would be quite reasonable," Sachsen spoke. He dropped his usual honorifics, as he occasionally did. The master of Dawn Dew believed that grudges existed to be repaid.
In the past, during the days when Encrid would resort to begging just to learn the sword, everyone had mocked him. Yes, such things had happened. Should he have despaired because of that, wept, and resented even God?
Encrid had not. And because he had not, he stood in this place today.
"Not really," Encrid shook his head. He truly had no such desire. His judgment and his steps were different from those of ordinary people. Setting aside his skill, he was a human being of an entirely different caliber.
"Then what are you going to do?" Ragna asked, having come out late.
"I'm going to train," Encrid replied. He grasped his left fingers with his right hand and pulled them back, stretching his muscles and tendons. As he applied steady pressure, the muscles stretched smoothly and relaxed.
Was it said that when Will dwells within, the body changes as well? It seemed so. No, it was indeed so.
"Train?"
"My body is a bit stiff."
This was who he was now, and this was the path he would walk. That was what he would do. There was nothing special about it. That was all.
Everyone had long since known that he was a person of a different caliber. Even so, they couldn't help but be surprised once more. He had become a Knight—the very Knight he had cried out for. Yet, he did not change.
Then again, that was precisely why everyone followed him.
He's going to be hard to beat, Sachsen thought to himself.
What if he had to stand on the opposite side of Encrid? He had the confidence to kill him, but he would never have the heart to do so.
That was the kind of person he was. Encrid.