Chapter 688: A Familiar Face
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 688: A Familiar Face
Encrid was no stranger to the life of a pathfinder or a bounty hunter. Those were the days when he would do anything just to earn a few krona.
He hadn't learned those trades half-heartedly. Tracking their direction by reading footprints in the dirt or spotting snapped branches was child’s play to him. What’s more, branches deliberately bent upward guided his way—a trail Grida had likely left in her wake.
Running naturally wouldn't result in branches bent like that; normally, they would snap downward or forward. But here, at regular intervals—exactly thirty paces for an adult male—the bent branches marked the path. It was a professional courtesy left by an excellent pathfinder for whoever followed behind.
Tracking them was easy. It was only natural that the three ahead were slower than him; Ragna was carrying Anne on his back, which undoubtedly restricted his mobility.
However, a flicker of doubt crossed Encrid's mind.
Did they prepare another trap?
He wondered if the enemy mage had predicted their route change. If so, a large-scale spell designed to distort their sense of direction might be waiting for them. Had they blocked the path with a double layer of defenses?
He didn't know. He would have to see for himself.
As his feet pounded the earth, a corner of his mind—completely detached from the present—repeatedly reviewed his recent battles, driven by sheer curiosity and enjoyment.
Swordsmanship.
This was something Encrid simply couldn't help but obsess over. He had just formulated the concept of calculated swordsmanship. If that existed, then conceptually, there had to be an instinctive swordsmanship as well.
How exciting.
A thrill of joy washed over him. Knowing that a new height was within reach made him feel so ecstatic he could die.
If I end up regressing today just because I died of happiness, I wonder what the Ferryman would say?
The Ferryman hadn't actually appeared, but Encrid could almost hear the auditory hallucination.
“...Are you seriously asking that?”
He could practically see the Ferryman looking utterly dumbfounded.
In any case, dividing his perspective into calculation and instinct made the distinct specialties of his squad members stand out with newfound clarity.
Audin and Sachsen are calculators.
Those two always weighed the situation and variables, keeping every detail in mind.
On the other hand, Ragna and Rem rely more on instinct.
Ragna and Rem didn't overthink. Instead, they twisted and accepted everything in a way that favored their momentum.
Then there was Sinar. The elf was different. Her combat style achieved a unique harmony, turning an opponent's strength against them.
If I had to classify her, she's an all-rounder.
Sinar compensated for the inherent weaknesses of an all-rounder by utilizing her opponent's own power.
Winter Breeze.
Her sword lay at the perfect intersection of calculation and instinct. The swordsmanship Sinar had shown him after the relocation of the elven village remained vivid in his memory. He hadn't fully grasped it back then, but now he did.
She read part of my movements and filled the rest with instinct.
Looking at it that way, Sinar seemed the most outstanding, but...
"There are no 'perfect' people in this world. It's just a matter of who is sharper."
Sachsen's words came to mind, and he agreed. In the end, the sharper blade wins. Sinar and Sachsen's perspectives could wait for later. For now, Encrid knew his immediate goal.
Instinctive swordsmanship.
He would master it after calculation. He wouldn't just refine his specialty; he would acquire two distinct specialties altogether. This internal monologue was his final answer to the question that had surfaced during his sparring session with Audin before they set off.
*
"He'll be fine, right?" Magrun asked, adjusting his pace. He was referring to Encrid, who had stayed behind.
The night was still long. Magrun suspected this ambush wouldn't be the last—whether it was sorcery, magic, or monsters, something else would surely block their path. It was an obvious prediction.
While he didn't truly believe anything bad could happen to Encrid, the question stemmed from an uneasy feeling. He couldn't even guess the identity of the culprit behind these attacks.
Ragna answered without looking back. "It's better than me staying behind. He looked like he was having the time of his life."
Encrid fought twice as well when he was excited. Besides, he wasn't the type to forget his duty just because he was enjoying a fight.
Magrun had observed Encrid for two months now. Yeah, that's true, he thought. Even in that short time, Encrid had proven himself to be the kind of man who inspired that level of confidence.
Still, one might think they should worry at least a little. But no matter how formidable a pack of Scalers was, they couldn't do much against a knight of his caliber. Even in Magrun's eyes, Encrid was no ordinary knight.
"I think it was the best decision for the situation," Grida added.
As she spoke, she found it secretly intriguing. If one looked closely, Encrid seemed to make the absolute best decision every single time, even in split-second moments when time was scarce.
It's as if he's been through similar situations countless times before.
Her guess was closer to the truth than she knew. He had navigated countless decision-making processes within his repeating "today." On certain loops, he had been forced to make rapid-fire choices within extremely tight windows. That sharp judgment was a weapon forged in the fires of endless regressions.
Since Grida didn't know this, she simply viewed it as Encrid's natural talent.
In any case, if the whole group had stayed to fight, it would have only delayed them further.
And even if the monsters had split their forces to pursue us, we could have handled them.
They still had plenty of strength left. There was Grida herself, and there was Magrun. It would be troublesome if Magrun had another fit due to his illness, but there was no sign of that happening yet.
By choosing to stay behind without a moment's hesitation, Encrid had prevented a delay and forced the monsters to make a choice. Since there was no Colony Leader to guide them, the pack of Scalers couldn't execute any complex tactical maneuvers.
Though it's still a mystery why a unique variant popped up here.
Now was not the time to dwell on it.
Everything will be resolved once we reach Zaun.
Most of these questions would be answered there. There was no way the clan would be completely clueless about such events happening in their own backyard. Besides, Odinkar must have arrived ahead of them to deliver the news.
While she was lost in thought, Encrid caught up. He wasn't overly agitated, but he spoke with a distinct, thrilled expression.
"Next up: mastering instinct."
"...What?" Grida, who had been about to praise him, blinked in confusion. She wondered what on earth this bastard was talking about.
"I have a rough idea of the path now. The wall isn't that high," Encrid repeated. He quickened his pace to run alongside Ragna.
Ragna must have heard him, but he gave no reaction.
"What are you even talking about, you crazy bastard?" Grida muttered. She was so dumbfounded that she failed to notice a protruding tree root and tripped. She immediately applied force, snapping the root with a sharp crack and continuing her stride without losing momentum.
The shattered root sprayed sap and splinters into the air.
"Did he get poisoned?" Magrun asked, looking back as his pace slowed.
"No, that's just normal for him," Ragna replied.
Although Magrun and Grida had observed him for two months, this was the first time they had witnessed this particular brand of madness.
"Strike with instinct. Not by judgment, but by instinct," Encrid continued, seemingly talking to himself. Then, as if he hadn't been intentionally ignoring them, he spoke normally. "I took care of all the Scalers."
"You're only telling us that now?"
"There were four black ones. Do those kinds of things appear often around here?"
"And you're only asking that now?"
If they did, it would be a massive headache for the Border Guard and Martai. It meant there was a colony just a ten-day ride away—and a colony containing unique variants, at that.
They had already dealt with the Ghoul Xerxes in the City of Oara; they knew that monsters capable of training and evolving existed. They knew exactly how dangerous that was.
"Some used telekinesis, and others had hardened bodies," Encrid noted. "To be precise, two used telekinesis, and two had iron-like armor."
"No, I've never seen them before either," Magrun replied, giving up on getting a straight answer about Encrid's "instinct" talk. His complexion was darker than when they had set off. He was worried about Zaun, and his chest felt tight, as if a fit from his curse was about to flare up.
"How unusual. There will be more ambushes," Encrid said. Normally, this wasn't a situation one could just brush off, but Encrid had experienced so many extraordinary things that he could simply categorize it and move on.
If there was nothing they could do until they investigated, then moving forward was the only right approach. Everyone present was smart enough to understand that. The only thing that mattered was whether another attack was coming.
"We expect the same," Grida agreed.
"Even at this pace, it will take over ten days," Magrun added.
"Once we return to Zaun, we'll find out what's happening. Odinkar should be there already."
They kept their senses sharp, maintaining a moderated running speed. There was no need to sprint blindly and lose the initiative to a hidden foe. They also stopped talking; conversation was a distraction when trying to distinguish friend from foe in the wilderness.
They ran through the night in silence, but no other attack came. Once dawn broke, Magrun stopped, and Grida spoke up.
"How about we push ourselves and run until evening? Freckles will probably sleep better that way too."
"Agreed," Encrid said.
The group pushed on. They broke a light sweat as they crossed several mountain ridges, but they didn't have the luxury of a wash. Along the way, they found a stream to replenish their water and caught a few wild animals.
Although monsters inhabited the Pen-Hanil Mountains, ordinary wildlife coexisted there as well. Demonic beasts were essentially wild animals contaminated by monster blood. It was said that only demonic beasts lived in the distant Great Forest, but that was because it was practically another Demon Realm.
They roasted the meat roughly over a fire to fill their stomachs. They hadn't brought even a pinch of salt, so the meat reeked of game, but seasoning was a luxury they couldn't afford. They ate, drank, and kept running.
Anne, drifting in and out of consciousness, managed to eat and drink whenever she was awake.
"I can't take any more sleeping medicine. It's too hard on my body," she croaked. During those stretches, she stayed awake, clinging tightly to Ragna's back.
"Ugh, this is absolutely brutal..."
Even though they were moving slower than a horse's gallop, clinging to the back of a knight performing three-dimensional maneuvers over rugged terrain was an ordeal. Encrid was impressed she was holding up at all.
They leaped over boulders and kicked up clouds of dust. By the time three days had passed, everyone was covered in a thick layer of grime.
Strangely, despite their expectations, nothing blocked their path. They crossed mountain ridges, traversed steep slopes, and even waded through a waist-deep waterway. Encrid thought the river crossing would have been the perfect opportunity for an ambush, but once again, nothing happened.
Finally, they arrived.
"This is Rapata Gorge," Magrun said, looking at the dirt path flanked by steep cliffs. His tone was firm, but Encrid now understood his nuances.
He's just disappointed he doesn't have time to explain the history.
Magrun’s words had a sharp edge, but his intent was like a man wanting to describe a famous scenic spot in his hometown to a friend. However, the threat of ambush had robbed him of the luxury.
Passing through the gorge felt unsettling. But because any other route would require a massive detour, they had no choice.
"...Why hasn't anything happened?" Grida muttered.
"Indeed," Ragna chimed in.
Ironically, there was no enemy attack even as they drew right up to Zaun's doorstep. Encrid found it puzzling.
Why?
He seemed to catch a glimpse of the reason the moment they arrived.
Zaun was situated in a basin atop a mountain ridge. At first glance, it looked like a simple, rustic village. Aside from a few antique-style buildings and the fact that every inhabitant carried a sword, it looked like any other rural settlement built where monsters couldn't easily reach.
Then, the man guarding the entrance caught Encrid's eye. Amusingly, he was a familiar face—though Encrid had never met him in reality.
"You're late, Grida."
The village was protected by a pointed wooden palisade that rose well above an adult's height. A man stood there as the double gates swung open.
For a moment, Encrid was reminded of a castle gate that would never fall, or a sword that would never break. He had never seen such things, but the moment he saw the man, those were the images that filled his mind.
His presence was overwhelming. When still, he was like a mountain.
And when he moves, he will be like a tempest.
Encrid could see it clearly now because his discernment had reached a new level. In his dreams, the man's thick eyebrows, hollow cheeks, and robust build had caught his eye first; but facing him in person, his sheer presence spoke louder than his features.
"It's the Clan Head," Magrun whispered, but Encrid already knew.
The Clan Head of Zaun. The leader of the family that produced knights. If not this man, who else could possibly represent Zaun?
"You've brought guests," the Clan Head said.
As the Will of Rejection activated within Encrid, shaking off the subtle pressure of the Clan Head's presence, a sharp question arose in his mind.
He doesn't know we're here?
If Odinkar had arrived first, that would be impossible.