Chapter 515: Everything Has Changed
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 515: Everything Has Changed
Rem watched Encrid during their spar, a single thought echoing in his mind.
Too crude.
Having mentored Encrid in the past, Rem knew the Captain wasn't a man who changed easily. To be more precise, every time one looked at him, he gave off the impression of someone who had already reached his absolute limit.
It was no different now, even after he had finally become a knight.
It was as if he had consumed and exhausted every resource available to him, coming to a complete standstill.
Reaching this point was an incredible feat in itself. But would a man like him stop here? Surely not.
But can he even change anymore?
Though Rem had risen through the ranks of sorcery, he understood the essence of a knight. To his eyes, the Will Encrid currently possessed was extremely dull.
Could that blunt edge ever become sharp again?
It won't be easy.
It wasn't that Encrid was the type to give up, but something else nagged at Rem’s mind.
Is he satisfied?
Encrid’s attitude had shifted, if only slightly. He had always been a man defined by his yearning, but did that same hunger still drive him? Was the flame of his desire still burning as fiercely and beautifully as before?
His eyes were always fixed forward, yes. But was that yearning truly the same?
Rem didn't think so.
It was impressive that Encrid hadn't become intoxicated by his new power. His Will, welling up like an inexhaustible spring, was also remarkable. But that wasn't everything.
Being a knight didn't end with awakening one's Will; it began with learning how to master it.
Rem didn't bother saying this aloud. It wasn't a lesson that could be taught with words. Instead, he showed him through the weight of his axe, facing him time and time again.
The next step was up to Encrid alone.
*
Ragna saw the same thing Rem did, though he didn't dwell on it quite as deeply.
He’s dull.
Encrid looked like a man walking when he should be running. It was just a feeling, but as the intuition of a genius and a knight, it carried weight.
But what words could he offer? What does a lost person need? Only the will to find the way.
If the will is there, one eventually reaches the destination. But if that will cools? They remain lost forever. To Ragna, the current Encrid looked like a lost child.
Sachsen noticed it as well.
"Are you satisfied, by any chance?" he asked.
Encrid only blinked his blue eyes in confusion. "With what?"
Did he not realize that becoming a knight wasn't the finish line? No, he knew. His diligence in his daily training, which hadn't wavered for a single day since his awakening, proved that.
And yet, why?
Is it just my imagination, or is his concentration wavering? Sachsen wondered. Or were his expectations simply too high?
"Never mind," Sachsen muttered.
"If you're asking if I'm satisfied with becoming a knight," Encrid said, "the answer is no."
By becoming a knight, he had finally reached equal footing with his squad members. He had achieved the dream he had chased for so long. But satisfaction? Encrid claimed he felt none.
"Is that so?"
Sachsen let the matter drop. The path he had walked was different from that of an ordinary knight. What others achieved easily might be difficult for Encrid, and conversely, Encrid might accomplish what they could not.
Simply put, if they fought a head-on spar right now, Sachsen would lose. However, in a life-or-death struggle...
I could kill him.
Strictly in terms of technique, it was possible. It meant Encrid was still fundamentally different from ordinary knights.
Hasty advice wasn't necessary, but Sachsen still had a bad feeling. Normally, he wouldn't ignore such an instinct, but this was Encrid. He would manage. He would find a way to surprise them all again.
It was trust. His past experiences gave Sachsen faith, so he left the man to his own devices.
Audin looked at Encrid and offered a silent prayer.
Father, have You set a limit for Brother Captain? I believe in Your word that no one's fate is set in stone.
Audin thought of his own body, bound by restrictions that prevented him from stepping forward. Since he couldn't explain the sensation with words, he needed to show it through action, but his current condition made that impossible.
For these reasons, Audin remained silent as well. He, too, trusted Encrid.
"He isn't unfocused, yet something is strange," Luagarne commented, his talent-reading eyes narrowed.
Even though Encrid’s training routine remained unchanged, the way the others looked at him had shifted. Yet, no one spoke up. They knew that words wouldn't change anything.
If he seemed on the verge of stopping completely, they would intervene by any means necessary. But for now, it was time to watch.
*
Aker was a sword containing the thoughtform of a knight.
—The reason a thoughtform like me was created? Even I don't know. I simply awaken when the conditions are met.
Whenever the sword vibrated, its intent transmitted directly into Encrid’s mind. It was fascinating every time, but that was where the fascination ended. There was nothing practical to learn.
It was a sword so devoid of utility that it made him wonder why an ego had been placed within it at all. It would be one thing if the ego could cast magic, but instead, the awakening of the ego signaled the final stage before the Will imbued in the blade dispersed forever.
For a sword with such strict conditions, it doesn't seem to know much. Was there really a reason to create this?
There were three conditions for Aker to awaken:
1. Master the swordsmanship created by the knight Aker.
2. Awaken one's Will.
3. Firmly possess the sword.
Who judges those conditions? Encrid wondered.
—If you hold me and use me, it is recognized, the sword replied. As for awakening your Will, the very maintenance of this sword requires a constant influx of it. You felt the blade chip and its power drain recently? That was inevitable. When I sleep, I don't consume Will, but because I was half-awake, I had to feed on the Will stored in the blade. For now, I’ll survive on what you supply, but you should consider the sword's lifespan to be at its end.
A month at most—that was all the time the thoughtform named Aker had left. Yet, it expressed no regret. A thoughtform was merely a mass of thoughts; it did not fear fading away. It accepted its end as the natural order.
Encrid moved on to the other conditions.
—Since your Will has reached the level of a knight, you should already know, Aker explained. It means you've reached a state where you can exert willpower even while standing still. It affects the weapon you hold. As for 'possession,' it refers to treating the blade roughly. If the blade is damaged through use, it is recognized as possession.
Aker answered every question faithfully. It was a fragment of the will left behind in a weapon by the hero Aker. That will was originally intended to teach, but...
—It's not enough just to be good at swordplay. What you need is tactics—hey, where did you learn that?
No matter what the sword tried to teach, Encrid had already engraved those lessons into his very bones. Everything he had learned while wandering the continent with Rem, Ragna, Sachsen, and Audin—and more recently, from Luagarne—was already part of him.
The thoughtform had intended to teach him not to lose his essence just because he had become a knight, but Encrid was a man who had crawled up from the absolute bottom. He did not neglect the basics just because he could now wield Will.
—You are diligent, the sword noted.
Every morning, Encrid practiced the Isolation Technique—a method of training individual muscle groups—and the Striking Method, a technique for dealing with iron armor. Afterward, he stretched and retrained his body’s muscles one by one.
He did a bit of everything, from the most basic sword-handling to advanced drills. The days felt too short. Even to a thoughtform, it was a tedious routine, but Encrid performed it with genuine joy.
Between training sessions, he managed the territory’s visitors and handled correspondence. Now, he was heading toward the city’s central market. Specifically, to a blacksmith shop on the outskirts.
The hilt of his gladius had grown loose, and he wanted to see if Aker could be repaired, as well as pick up a few daggers.
Should I get some armor too?
It wasn't a bad idea. Encrid walked with slow, deliberate steps. There was no need to rush.
"Shall I go with you?" Sinar had asked as he was leaving, but he had declined.
He often wondered why the elf stayed. A knight of her caliber could have returned to her village; she had no real reason to fight for Naurilia. Was it loyalty to the country?
No way.
Yet she remained. Very few knew Sinar was an elf knight—only himself and the members of the Mad Platoon. Even Graham, the Castellan of the Border Guard, likely didn't know. She had started as a mercenary but had naturally transitioned into a soldier. Given her connection with Krang, there was likely some promise from the royal family involved.
A reward? Encrid didn't dwell on it. It wasn't his business, and she wouldn't answer even if he asked.
"If you think you'll get lost, I can guide you," Ragna had offered. "It's been a while since you've been back. You might be confused."
Rem had stopped Ragna before he could follow. "This crazy bastard is really testing my patience today."
Rem was always looking for an excuse to fight. Fortunately, the two didn't clash with intent to kill. Now that they were both knights, they knew an earnest battle would likely end in death. A clash of Will was just that lethal unless there was a massive gap in skill.
"Wolf Spirit," Rem muttered, performing a spirit possession. In exchange for the sorcery in his body, the strength of a wolf dwelled in his legs. "Dwell in my legs and crush this fool."
They're quite serious today, Encrid thought, leaving their bickering behind.
Sachsen had left for other business, and Krais was genuinely swamped with work—preparing for war. Though people spoke of conflict, the next few months would likely be a period of tense observation rather than immediate combat.
Encrid set out alone. The sunlight was warm, and a gentle breeze carried the song of birds. It was the same sun and wind as always, yet it felt different—warmer, more refreshing. It felt as if the wind blew right through his chest, and the sunlight filled his entire body.
He had become a knight. Not in the sense of a noble title, but as a realization of martial power. Encrid felt, once again, that everything had changed.
And I, who receive them, have changed.
He could see the path his sword would take; he knew exactly how it would move. Listening to the secrets carried by the wind and the birds, Encrid walked. It was a perfectly clear day. He savored every step, enjoying the present so much that he wished this stroll could last forever.
—You look happy, Aker remarked.
Is that so? Encrid replied casually.
As he walked, several soldiers recognized him and offered sharp military salutes.
"I want to be like you, Captain!" one soldier shouted boldly.
To be an idol to someone—honestly, it would be a lie to say he didn't enjoy it.
"How can I do that?" the soldier asked.
Encrid saw the squad leader’s expression turn fierce. Judging by their disciplined appearance, they were a high-quality unit, yet the soldier had spoken out of turn. Once Encrid passed, that soldier would likely face "disciplinary drills" for his outburst.
Encrid dismissed the thought and looked the soldier in the eye. He gave the only answer he ever had for those who asked "how."
"Find your own motivation. You may have comrades who can do your work for you, but no one can forge a resolve or steel your heart in your stead."
The squad leader’s anger flickered into something else. The eyes of all ten soldiers in the file shone with the same intensity. It wasn't a bad sight.
"The flower of war is..."
"The infantry!" they shouted in unison.
After parting ways with the soldiers, he reached the bustling market. The city had grown, the market had expanded, and even Vanessa’s Pumpkin Soup inn had flourished. Despite the crowds, there was a sense of order. The streets were pedestrian-only, paved with blue flagstones instead of dirt, and stone buildings rose five stories high.
Talk of the war with Azpen was everywhere. Merchants traded rumors as much as goods. No one knew where the talk had started, but everyone understood that blood would soon be spilled. While a few still doubted, most accepted the war as a foregone conclusion.
In the past—only a few years ago—rumors of war would have sent the merchants fleeing, turning the Border Guard into a ghost town.
But now, everything was different.