Chapter 658: The Sermon
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 658: The Sermon
What Encrid had just displayed was akin to a form of Absolute Defense. Through sheer reaction speed, masterful swordsmanship, and a bird’s-eye perspective, he had constructed a perfect, impenetrable barrier.
His cognitive abilities, in particular, were extraordinary. He didn't just see points; he saw lines. Beyond lines, he saw planes. He looked at the forest rather than the trees, taking in his opponent’s entire body to dictate his reactions. At the same time, his split-second judgment was hardly inferior to Rem’s own.
If they were to enter a true life-or-death battle, the outcome might differ, but there was no way of knowing that now.
‘He’s blended them all together quite nicely.’
That was how it looked to Rem. Seeing Encrid properly execute everything he had been taught brought a surge of pride. After all, making the most optimal decision in a heartbeat was one of Rem’s own specialties.
Still, that was no reason to let him win.
To determine a true victor in a real fight, one of them would have to die or be gravely wounded. Winning that way was meaningless here.
‘Then that means I’ve lost.’
He had to find a way to win within the confines of a sparring match. Rem began to scheme. He pondered, devised, and yearned for a solution.
‘He already possessed Uske to begin with.’
Rem knew the sheer scale of Encrid’s Will was massive. On top of that, his skills had improved exponentially since his return. That was the reason Encrid was acting so cocky right now.
‘Why does he always change like that whenever he goes somewhere?’
Did he have a hidden honey pot stashed somewhere on the continent? Rem knew that wasn't the case; he had traveled to the West with him, and there had been nothing of the sort.
‘Training every day, spending every single day the exact same way.’
Training to the point of absolute boredom—that was all Encrid had done.
Rem had been doing the same, but lately, he had pushed himself with a near-ferocious intensity. Even when he had first started enjoying physical exertion in the West, he had never worked this hard. Putting enjoyment aside, having a clear goal naturally sparked his enthusiasm.
‘I don't want to lose.’
The fire of his competitive spirit burned far brighter than his pride. Since he had no intention of killing his friend, only the pure desire for victory blazed within him.
‘Only victory.’
Excluding the time spent eating, sleeping, and relieving himself, he had spent a fortnight searching for a way.
‘Whether I win with an axe or win like this...’
He increased his mobility by practicing backward leaps—a method he had recently established while sparring with Ragna. If he had to name it, it would be a form of partial Spirit Possession, though there was no real need for a name. He just had to naturally draw out and use what was needed at the exact moment it was required.
That was exactly what Rem did.
He widened the distance and fired high-speed projectiles in rapid succession. This didn't consume a massive amount of sorcery power. Although he infused the projectiles with energy, it wasn't to an unreasonable degree. He didn't need to fight as if he were burning his entire body. By doing this, Rem employed a tactic similar to what Encrid did with Uske.
However, in Rem's case, it was purely offensive rather than defensive.
The incoming projectiles were a wave. As long as that wave continued, Encrid would have no choice but to block. This alone pinned Encrid in place.
Whirrrr. Bang! Whirrrrrr. Bang!
Even as two slings with different tempos continuously tore through the air, launching projectiles on varying trajectories, Encrid blocked and blocked again.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Explosions erupted with every deflection. Smoke billowed, and the stray projectiles smashed into the quarters located on one side of the training ground. Even the deflected stones possessed enough force to shatter the skull of any decent expert.
Fortunately, there was no one nearby who would die from such a thing.
No, wait—there was one. Anne, the healer and alchemist, had just arrived to receive the leaves of Dryas. The red-haired, freckled girl stepped into the training area. Encrid had intended to give them to her much earlier, but Anne had things to prepare, so she had only now come to collect the elven gifts.
Right at that moment, a stray projectile flew straight toward her chest.
She would have died instantly, but someone intercepted it.
Clang!
Ragna slammed his greatsword into the ground, twisting the blade to deflect the projectile with the flat of the steel. Since the projectile’s force had already been halved by a prior deflection, the sound was quieter than when Encrid blocked them.
Because Ragna had closed the distance in an instant, it felt to Anne as though her vision was suddenly blocked by a massive, iron wall of a back.
"This is a bad time," Ragna said nonchalantly.
Anne, having quickly assessed the situation, replied, "...So it seems."
Her eyes were wide with shock. Aside from her, the only ones present were Luagarne, Teresa, Ropode, and Pel, all of whom easily dodged or blocked the stray debris. Only the innocent quarters and the structures around the training ground were being demolished.
A fairly high wall collapsed with a rumble after taking three hits from the stray projectiles. As the wall—built of earth, stone, and mortar—crumbled, a thick cloud of dust billowed into the air.
Through the rising dust, Encrid’s eyes gleamed with a sharp blue light.
He was glaring, concentrating his Will. If Rem showed even a sliver of an opening, Encrid would close the distance. For Encrid to win, he had to turn this mid-to-long-range battle into a close-quarters fight where sword and axe could reach. That was the only way to neutralize the sling.
Rem, of course, knew dozens of ways to detonate or fire projectiles even at close range, but those could only be used if he was prepared to kill his opponent.
There was a reason sparring between knights was generally forbidden once they achieved their titles. As they fought, their Wills would clash, and unless there was a massive disparity in skill, it was nearly impossible to end the fight without killing the opponent. Even with a skill gap, severe injuries were common.
Rem’s gray eyes also cast a faint glow. Sorcery power swirled throughout his body, and a portion of that light seemed to cling to the high-speed projectile held in his hand.
This was a technique he had prepared with the resolve to half-kill that directionally challenged bastard if things went south—simply because Encrid had pissed him off so much.
There was no need to name the technique. However, if one opened a new path that had never existed before, a fitting name was usually required. There was no need to name the act of keeping the Descent technique confined to his hands and arms, channeling a giant’s strength with just a slight flick of his wrist. That was merely a derivative of an existing technique.
But what he was showing now was different.
‘Remain.’
Sorcery power condensed within the projectile he was about to throw. Within it, he wove a new spell. This was not the creation of a talisman, nor could it be called a standard Descent technique.
In the past, the knight named Aker specialized in making his Will dwell within his weapon, but Rem achieved this through sorcery. Furthermore, he didn't leave it in a weapon held in his hand, but in a projectile that had already left his grasp.
‘Remaining.’
‘Dwell and remain. Do not leave.’
‘Explode upon impact.’
It was a projectile imbued with a spell that triggered a delayed explosion.
Within the domain of his sixth sense, Encrid saw a fiercely raging beast flying toward him. If the projectiles he had blocked so far resembled hail, what was flying toward him now was something imbued with a predatory will. It was as if a living beast had been compressed and hurled at him.
Encrid did not ignore that intuition.
He instantly lowered his stance and shifted his center of gravity. It was not a posture for advancing, but one for deflecting. Shifting the direction of the force from below to behind him, he swung Penna, held in his right hand, diagonally upward.
The beast, shaped like a round boulder, clashed with Penna. Their battle up to this point had already been enough to show why a knight’s violence was called a disaster, but this strike surpassed even that.
A flash of light erupted, followed by a deafening roar.
KABOOM!
A terrifying shockwave swept outward. Looking annoyed, Ragna grabbed Anne’s shoulder to pull her behind him, and with his other hand, he slashed his greatsword downward three times.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
The three slashes severed the shockwave before it could reach them.
Even for a knight, it was an impressive feat, but no one had the leisure to be amazed. With that bastard Rem seemingly losing his mind and potentially killing their captain, who had time to watch?
"Have you actually gone mad?" Sachsen’s voice rang out.
Rem felt the presence of a wildcat approaching behind his back, but he ignored it. He felt a hint of killing intent, but it was only about as much as Sachsen usually showed when he was slightly irritated.
Ragna merely stared indifferently at the center of the explosion.
"Lord Father, has the time come for our barbarian brother to go to Your side?" Audin murmured quietly, as if in prayer.
"Is he dead?" Ropode muttered in shock.
Pel shook his head. They had wandered through the elven city and the labyrinth together, watched him slay demons, and seen him cut down cultists on the way back. That crazy captain of theirs would not die easily now.
It was a statement one couldn't easily make if they knew how many times he had died just to kill the demon One-Killer, but Pel’s prediction was correct.
"You call this sparring?" Encrid’s dry voice drifted out.
His right arm hung limply at his side, whether because it was broken or because the muscles were torn. At some point, he had shifted Penna to his left hand. He supposed he should be glad that Penna, at least, was intact. The elven treasure emitted a faint glow, resisting the explosive sorcery.
Rem chuckled as he looked at Encrid. "Got a complaint?"
Naturally, Encrid remained unchanged. He hadn't changed when he became a knight, nor had he changed when he recently held a brief advantage over them.
"One more time?" the crazy captain asked with a broad grin. It was a smile that could only come from someone absolutely thrilled to the point of madness.
"Everyone is crazy. Seriously," Anne muttered as she watched.
But to Encrid, this was only natural. It was incredibly fun. What would have happened if he had failed to deflect that projectile just now? Would he have lost an arm?
But he had blocked it. Rem had done that believing Encrid could block it, and Encrid had met that expectation.
‘This is absolutely thrilling.’
Encrid thought to himself. A rush of adrenaline surged from his toes to his head. The more he replayed the moment in his mind, the more enjoyable it became.
‘What if I had altered the angle of my block? But that projectile just now wasn't a mere stone, was it? Then he probably can't throw many of them. Dodging something flying at that speed is difficult. If I barely dodge it, I'll be hit by the follow-up attack. Rem is exactly the kind of guy to throw two of those in a row. I have to block them one by one and endure. How?’
Right now, he couldn't see a clear answer. However, he had faintly seen something draped over the projectile Rem had fired. Something new—brought back by a man who had reached a place Encrid himself had not yet touched.
How could he not be excited? Would Krais be this happy if he stumbled upon a mountain of gold coins? Encrid believed he was even happier than Krais would be.
They weren't fighting for their lives; they were sparring. Therefore, he could take his time to review and train. To be honest, he couldn't see an answer right away anyway. Inspiration would strike again. He had learned how to wait for it now. Of course, he would do everything he could in the meantime.
"The stars will be very visible tonight, brothers," Audin said, looking at the two of them.
At his words, Encrid temporarily paused his mental review of the fight. He looked at the aftermath of his spar with Rem.
Rumble, crash.
Right on cue, one wall of the quarters collapsed, turning what used to be a wall into a pile of rubble. It was the side with Audin’s room. Half of the quarters had collapsed, and it just so happened to be the exact spot where Audin’s room was located, literally turning it into the prime spot for stargazing.
"Indeed. Your room has become prime real estate," Encrid replied.
Audin merely smiled and murmured, "Oh, Lord." Those two words seemed to carry a myriad of mixed emotions.
Encrid turned his gaze away. He tried to raise his right arm, but gave up. "But I can't use this arm right now. I need to rest a bit."
His arm refused to obey. It was only natural, considering he had blocked a brutal attack in such a brutal manner.
"Are you seriously saying that? If you really want to die, I can give you another shot."
Upon closer inspection, Encrid wasn't the only one injured. Rem had also broken two of his fingers. He had channeled sorcery power akin to Spirit Possession or Descent with his bare hands. In a way, it was an expected outcome. It was a technique that couldn't be called perfect yet, but did a technique absolutely have to be perfect? Probably not. Rem knew this well, which was why he had used it without hesitation. As he used it, he would grow accustomed to it, and the path to improvement would reveal itself.
‘In any case, I need more training too.’
Rem thought this to himself, but he didn't let it show on his face. He packed up his slings, gripped his axe handle to align it properly, and spoke with a newly solemn expression. His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear clearly.
"In the West, there is a word, Urquiora. In the language of that region, it means Dusk, but the meaning it conveys is the dawn before daybreak. Everyone is merely at their dawn. So, all you have to do is try a little harder. Do not be disheartened. It is fine. You just need to make an effort. E-f-f-o-r-t. What does it matter if you can't beat Captain Enki? That is simply your limit. You are the dusk, the dawn. Well, sometimes there are dawns where the sun never rises, but since I am here, it is fine."
It was a sermon. He was so excited that a light even brighter than when he was fighting seemed to stream from his eyes. His gray eyes radiated an unprecedented vitality. He was overflowing with life.
Naturally, the complexions of those listening to his words were turning in the exact opposite direction.