Chapter 694: React
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 694: React
The man with six swords watched Encrid, who had maintained a smile throughout the entire bout, and gave a slow, appreciative nod.
‘His temperament is extraordinary.’
The way he had charged forward, grinning despite the odds, was proof enough. He seemed to thrive under the crushing pressure of the Head of House—a trait rarely seen even in Odinkar or the other children of House Zaun.
It was rare, peculiar, and eye-catching. Since such traits weren't entirely absent within House Zaun, the man might have simply left it at that. But then...
"One more round."
The words Encrid spat out immediately after his defeat changed everything. The raw emotion packed into that request pierced straight to the heart.
The master of the six swords, without even knowing exactly who this opponent was, found himself hoping the Head of House would grant the man's wish.
He saw the sheer desperation in those blue eyes peering through a curtain of black hair.
‘Head of House, isn't that what you emphasize every single day?’
Had he not said it just moments ago? That present desperation is always a step too late, and only the effort forged in the past can answer the needs of the present.
Yet, even now, while being praised as magnificent, this black-haired man poured out such desperate emotion.
I will swing my sword more. It's not over yet. Play with me a little longer.
He wasn't just speaking; he was crying out with his entire soul.
‘Admitting defeat is admirable, and enjoying the path of the sword is admirable, but...’
Nothing was as admirable as possessing true desperation.
This was one of the core teachings of House Zaun. It was the Head of House's personal creed. They had sent Ragna away because a genius who lost their desperation could no longer be considered a genius. Yet, the display shown by the man who had returned with him struck a deep, burning chord.
"...A rare temperament."
House Zaun valued temperament above all else. The middle-aged blonde man standing beside him spoke up. Without even turning his head, the man with six swords scoffed.
"Just rare? It's a precious temperament. Develop an eye for these things, Hescal."
An intuition honed by a lifetime of holding a blade recognized the man's uniqueness. Perhaps it was because his own specialty lay in the concept of waves, but that was exactly what he felt radiating from Encrid right now.
The middle-aged blonde man didn't seem to see it to that extent. Though a hint of surprise flickered in his eyes, his posture remained relatively calm.
"As I always say, hearing you lecture me on discernment is highly unpleasant," Hescal shot back.
The man with six swords didn't bother to reply. Was petty bickering important right now? Not in the slightest.
There were many other eyes fixed on the scene. One pair belonged to Anne. Her heart ached at Encrid's desperation; it captured her gaze, making her wish for the man who had killed her master to stand back up.
Naturally, her eyes drifted toward the one person who could answer Encrid's request.
She thought she saw a faint wisp of black smoke dispersing from the corner of the Head of House's mouth. It was so brief it could have been an illusion, vanishing in an instant. Moreover, she had been too shocked to notice at first, but a scent now lingered in the air—one that only an alchemist who had handled drugs and herbs for years could detect.
Anne shook off the lingering aftereffects of Encrid's emotions. Her alchemical instincts, combined with her own desires, jolted her mind awake.
‘Ah.’
Anne realized something and was about to speak, but the Head of House's wife was faster.
"I will take over now."
Alexandra stepped forward without even asking for her husband's permission. No one objected. In terms of sheer skill, everyone knew Alexandra was second to none—not even the Head of House.
Even Encrid, kneeling on one knee with a fierce, burning gaze, could feel it through her aura.
Though some here knew and others did not, Alexandra was the swordsmanship master of Schmidt, the Imperial recruiting officer. Schmidt's style focused heavily on speed, which was only natural. Even before she took the name Zaun, Alexandra's sword had been incredibly fast.
When the reputation of the Knight of the Gale—the one who swept across the continent on his own two feet—spread, Alexandra had earned a similar moniker.
Blitzklinge. In the Continental tongue, it meant Lightning Blade.
She wielded two swords with blades slightly longer than shortswords. Despite the exceptionally dark day, a cold light seemed to cling only to her steel.
‘The Head of House is heavy.’
‘And his wife is fast.’
Having watched his father's and mother's swords since childhood, it was only natural that Ragna wielded a style that was both heavy and fast.
Just when it seemed she was giving Encrid time to catch his breath, one of Alexandra's dual swords suddenly became a mere dot, thrusting toward the space between his brows.
Zzzzzzt—!
A sound like drawing lightning chased the pinpoint blade. Concentrating with everything he had, Encrid whipped his head to the side.
Slice!
His cheek was opened by the blade, a drop of blood splattering into the air. Before that single drop could even hit the ground, at least fifteen clashes of steel had already rung out.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
Before anyone realized it, Encrid had surged up from the ground, holding his sword diagonally in a stance that hid his body behind the blade. Alexandra had backed away to a distance of four and a half paces, her dual swords held firmly.
Rumble...
Dark clouds rolled in from the horizon as thunder groaned. A downpour was imminent.
Drip.
The cut on his cheek was deep; blood trickled down his jaw and pooled at the tip of his chin.
"I'm going to finish this before it rains," Alexandra said.
"Is that so?" Encrid replied, exhaling a ragged breath.
How did I block those strikes? he asked himself. No answer came. Was it just luck?
Alexandra spoke again, as if granting him a final moment of respite.
"Unusual weather. Storms roll in around this time, but I've never seen one of this scale. I don't know which god is playing tricks, but it certainly isn't the Sword God. The Sword God wouldn't care about anything other than the swing of a blade."
"Is that so?"
The corners of Alexandra's mouth curled upward.
"Look at this brat. You're not even listening to me, are you?"
No one is perfect. Ragna knew his mother's flaws well. She was generally gentle, but the moment she crossed a certain line, her polite speech vanished. It was a danger signal.
*
‘What is this?’
Encrid focused on a sensation within him, something hovering just on the edge of his grasp. It was like a mirage in the desert, yet he felt that if he concentrated hard enough, he could actually touch it. Because of this, his desperation leaked out unconsciously.
The yearning he usually kept buried deep in his heart had surfaced. Surpassing mere ecstasy, a boiling desire to possess this power consumed him.
He wanted to swing his sword violently. He didn't know how. He didn't know the path. He just wanted to swing.
To this, he added one more wish.
‘For as long as possible.’
He wanted to swing his sword again and again, maintaining this state. What did he need to do?
‘Endure.’
He wouldn't run out of Will. For now, he put Lady Samcheol forward and hid his body behind her. Leading with his right foot, he drew an imaginary line upward from his big toe and blocked that line with his sword. By doing so, he wedged the blade between himself and his opponent, ensuring only his sword remained in her line of sight.
‘Next?’
From the clash just now, he recognized that her swordsmanship shared similarities with One-Killer's. It fluctuated between instinct and calculation, but at its core lay rationality. What if he twisted that?
It was something he had tried against the demon One-Killer, and something Grida had done to break through his own calculations.
‘No meaningless movements. The goal is disruption.’
His Wave-Blocking Sword was active. His tactical thinking told him what he needed to do. Encrid let his left hand dangle, moving it near Penna. He wouldn't draw it. He wouldn't even grip it. But this single movement alone would cause an error in her calculations—
Sshk!
In an instant, Encrid saw two crescent moons falling before him. Quite literally, two swords descended in the shape of crescents. Thrusting the diagonally held Lady Samcheol upward, he slid his left foot back and tensed every muscle.
In that moment, everything slowed down. It was a strike that could not be blocked otherwise. The moons were falling. A sword, if mishandled, would only harm its wielder. If he was overwhelmed by this crescent slash, he might end up slicing his own body with his own blade.
Clang! Claaang!
The two moons struck Lady Samcheol. Deciding it was too late to deflect them with the blade alone, Encrid used Valaf-style Martial Arts to disperse the force through his body.
Screeech.
The soles of his feet slid outward to the sides. Having delivered the strike, Alexandra widened the distance once more.
"Are you playing with me? I'm faster than you, and you pull a stunt like that? What kind of idiot does that?"
Your daughter, Encrid swallowed the retort. Now was not the time. Alexandra was definitely holding back. His body had just been battered by the Head of House; he was nowhere near peak condition.
Was she holding back because she knew that? No. Ragna knew his mother's bad habit had surfaced.
A cornered rat will bite a cat. But what if the opponent is a tiger? Alexandra Zaun, within the confines of a spar, thoroughly enjoyed driving her opponents into a corner.
The corners of her mouth curled into a twisted smirk. She looked utterly delighted.
"Hey, you're going to die at this rate."
Encrid felt the weight of those words. The killing intent she radiated was no joke. Her Intimidation was taking physical form. If the Head of House's intimidation was a greatsword, hers was an arrowhead drawn fully back on a bowstring, aimed right between his eyes.
The moment the fingers let go, the arrow would fly. The sheer thrill stimulated his mind, heating his brain. His heart stirred, and Will surged through his entire body. His mind accelerated.
‘To repeatedly make movements that disrupt calculations, I have to expose my own openings just as much.’
Doing so in front of someone with hands as fast as hers was suicide.
‘That was a stupid move.’
Admitted.
Encrid finished his brief review in an instant. Alexandra's foot kicked off the ground again. Thud!
She closed the distance so fast her body became a blur.
‘React.’
Encrid commanded his body.
The pinpoint thrust, the high-speed consecutive strikes, the crescent slash—he hadn't thought and then deflected them. His body had moved on its own.
Clang!
Lady Samcheol deflected Alexandra's diagonal downward slash, but she held two swords. The sword in her other hand let out a sharp hiss as it thrust toward Encrid's right thigh. It was aimed precisely at the gap in the joint where his armor couldn't protect him.
Encrid used the momentum from the first deflection to spin his body half a turn. Alexandra's blade only grazed his thigh, avoiding a fatal wound. A small amount of blood seeped through his torn clothing, but it was merely a scratch.
"You swing a sword with your entire body, idiot! Build up your core first, make it tighter!"
When was that? Back when he worked as a mercenary, a guide, or a guard, earning Krona and spending it lavishly. One of his instructors had said those words while teaching him the basics.
"You don't swing with just your arms. Use your whole body."
So, he had trained his body accordingly. Madly, every single day, without fail. Later, Audin had taught him how to make his muscles thicker, tougher, and more flexible. He had pushed his body to the limit following Audin's guidance.
‘My body is fully capable of reacting.’
On top of that, he had learned a method where no path he chose would be wrong. Ragna had taught him that. There was no hesitation. Instinct and intuition reared their heads.
Alexandra's sword flew from outside the boundaries of his cognition. His senses opened the floodgates and reacted first. A cold wind brushed past his ears. Every sense was heightened; even the finest hairs on his body strained to read her movements.
Before he knew it, Alexandra's body was shrouded in a faint light, and a similar glow clung to her swords. She hid her left hand behind her back, executing a diagonal downward strike with only her right hand.
‘React.’
Encrid spoke to his body once more. Something hazy was caught in his grasp, taking shape. His senses reacted first, executing the movement before his mind could even perceive it. In the process, Will was naturally consumed.
Even though it was a movement he had performed thousands of times, it felt as if someone had woven threads to move his body for him.
Boom!
With a deafening roar, Encrid was sent flying backward like a puppet with its strings cut. However, he did not roll. Someone caught him by the back, halting his momentum.
Encrid landed in a half-seated position, kneeling on one knee. Ironically, he had ended up in the exact same posture as his spar with the Head of House.
"What did you just do?"
It was Ragna. A look of sheer astonishment was written all over his face. It was a rare sight.
"I don't know," Encrid replied.
"Alex, were you trying to kill him during a spar?" the man with six swords called out.
"Ah, I really almost killed him. Are you okay?" Alexandra asked, having calmed down. "Actually, I think he's fine. He blocked it quite well, didn't he?" She laughed.
"Yes, I blocked it. And it was fun, too," Encrid spoke with absolute sincerity.
Ragna looked at Encrid, replaying the scene in his mind. It was hard to believe.
‘He coated his sword in Will.’
It was only for a brief moment, but that was exactly what it looked like. Will was an intangible power. Ragna had defined his next step as manifesting this intangible power into a tangible form—materialization.
He had demonstrated this when breaking through Encrid's Wave-Blocking Sword, drawing the foundation from his father's sword. He had grasped the concept of materialization using his father's intimidation as a base. That was why it took the form of a greatsword. Now, all he had to do was compress it and unleash a different quality of Will.
‘But the Captain just did it.’
In that split second, Encrid had taken the step on the path Ragna was meant to walk first.
"Try it again."
"Huh? Um, I don't think I can." Encrid shook his head. "Today isn't the only day, after all."
Talent is cruel. For some, a single stroke of luck is enough to manifest it, while for others, that luck must find them dozens of times. Even when faced with such cruelty...
"This is fun."
A person who could smile like that was truly rare.
It was then that Ragna briefly supported his Captain's back with his palm.
"Since when?"
Anne, who had been standing aside like an outsider, stepped close to the Head of House. He stared quietly at her. Anne's expression was deadly serious.
"Tell me."
She spoke boldly, almost commanding him, but to Anne, this was only natural. No matter who the opponent was, if that person was a critically ill patient destined for death, Anne would do whatever it took to save them. That was the conviction of a healer.
"Let's speak inside," the Head of House said.
Alexandra gestured to dismiss the onlookers.
"If the show is over, everyone run along. Now that you've seen something good, make sure to train diligently."