Chapter 715: This Dog
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 715: This Dog
"Do you know the primary requirement for an extraordinary scammer?"
Krais asked the question out of the blue.
It was the kind of thing said back when those with a bit of free time after their daily routines would gather around the bonfire to roast chestnuts and walnuts. In other words, it was just trivial chatter with no particular intent or purpose—an excuse to wag his tongue while waiting for a scorching hot chestnut to cool on the ground.
"Isn't it just having a sharp mind?" Rem suggested, tapping his temple.
Meanwhile, his other hand was busy cracking walnuts with the handle of his axe. Crack, thud. With just the right amount of force and a perfect point of impact, the walnuts split open cleanly instead of shattering into pieces.
At Rem's words, Krais shook his head with exaggerated theater. Finding this incredibly annoying, Rem hurled the axe he was holding.
Of course, Krais didn't die. Encrid, sitting right next to him, caught the axe mid-air.
"Thank you for saving me, Captain," Krais said nonchalantly.
Encrid replied with a calm nod. "Right. That makes sixteen times I've saved your life. Is that any way to treat your savior? Can't you peel those chestnuts with a bit more care?"
"Aye, aye, here it is."
Krais deftly worked his knife and handed over a clean, pale chestnut without a single speck of inner skin left on it. Beside them, Sinar was wrapping walnuts in flower petals to eat, while Esther nibbled on a few pine nuts and watched quietly.
Rem grumbled as he took his axe back. "That bastard isn't even scared anymore."
From the side, Ragna offered some dry advice. "If you actually want to kill him, it's better to swing the axe from up close."
"...Hey, you crazy bastard, do you think I do this because I don't know that?" Rem flared up, but it didn't escalate to actual violence.
Nearby, Sachsen was quietly arranging his chestnuts in neat rows, while Audin babbled about how one couldn't help but be grateful to God for providing such delicious treats. Encrid nodded at the sweetness of the chestnut and listened to the rest of Krais's story.
"Smart scammers ultimately rely too much on their own brains, only to get stabbed in the back and knock on heaven's door. They say one gets hoisted by one's own petard. That's why truly extraordinary scammers don't trust their brains."
Encrid was busy munching on chestnuts and gulping down water, so he simply gave a slight nod.
"The extraordinary ones choose their targets well."
This was the core of Krais's point. A clever scammer does not choose a difficult target. He added that a gambler's strategy was much the same.
"They say the hard part isn't winning—it's getting the mark to sit at the table."
Indeed. Deceiving a clever person is difficult, but deceiving a naive one is incredibly easy. Finding that naive person is the true challenge.
Encrid was currently experiencing the absolute truth of those words.
"Now, did you predict this as well?"
Panito—the man who called Hescal his master and claimed to be his right-hand man—asked. His tone was like freshly ignited firewood. There was a fiery heat in his gaze, in his gesturing hands, and in the words he spat through his teeth—but beneath it all lay a simmering jealousy.
Of course, even if his opponent breathed literal fire, Encrid would simply dodge and say, "Ah, so you breathe fire," acting as if he had known all along. He ignored the man's tone entirely.
As Panito spoke, he raised the sword in his right hand high. A black wave rippled across the blade.
Screeech!
The sword let out a haunting wail. It was a blade possessed by an evil spirit. Infusing an evil spirit into a blade? Could that be considered an Ego Sword? No, it’s more accurate to call it a magic sword.
"Of course," Encrid nodded.
Panito's eyes twitched. Watching this, Encrid continued to thread his thoughts together. If one deduced the circumstances and framed every coincidence as intentional, the answer would reveal itself. Scattered, they were just beads; strung together, they became a necklace.
Who gave him that sword? What kind of power does it hold? By applying multi-angled thinking and attaching evidence to his speculations, the answer emerged.
"Are you relying on the sword Demuil gave you? The one that suppresses Will and restricts bodily freedom with an evil spirit?"
If he spoke in a way that sounded detailed yet vague, he could completely dismantle his opponent. He watched for a reaction.
Panito was visibly startled. His shoulders even trembled slightly. The man had proudly revealed his sword, believing he would win even if he just grazed Encrid.
Pel had possessed a similar sword. What Encrid had gained back then was the Will of Rejection. Pel's Idol Slayer did not work easily against Knights or Associate Knights who knew how to wield Will. Therefore, this weapon had to be more threatening than the Idol Slayer to suit the current situation.
Panito is at best an Associate Knight, yet he stepped forward like that. He didn't even look scared. And to think Encrid had only spat this out as a rough guess.
"How...?" Panito gasped. Rainwater poured into his open mouth, but he didn't even think to close it.
"Didn't I say it was all according to plan?"
As Encrid spoke, he realized that the man standing before him had spent most of his life within the Zaun territory. He had likely never wandered the continent, never been scammed, and never sat at a gambling table. In other words, he was naive.
"Bring out what you've prepared behind you as well."
This time, it was just a casual throwaway line, but...
"No, how did you...?" Panito was shocked once again.
"It is according to plan."
By repeating the same words, Encrid achieved a massive victory in the psychological warfare. At that, two swordsmen who hadn't even been caught in Encrid's Black and White World appeared behind Panito.
To be precise, they were bastards who erased their presence, making people ignore them even if they were seen—until they were actively perceived. They wore hooded cloaks, Spell Objects that manifested a veil spell. Though they were called swordsmen, their eyes were pitch black. Their forms were human, but they were not intelligent beings. One was large, and the other was small.
Honestly, he was a little surprised, but Encrid had always possessed a talent for deceiving his opponents. That was also why he favored the Valen-style Mercenary Sword.
"...It is all indeed according to plan."
Since he had decided to frame even bad luck as intentional, Encrid stayed consistent. He took it a step further.
"Without even moving from my seat, I know what happens a thousand paces away."
In other words, he was talking out of his ass.
"Ah, so that's why!" Panito's mouth stretched even wider. A fist could have fit inside.
"I can also foresee what will happen tomorrow."
At this latest bluff...
"There's no way. That makes no sense." Panito’s eyes grew twice as large. Even as he claimed it made no sense, he seemed to believe it completely.
"I see it. The future."
Panito's cheek trembled. Finally, he shut his mouth and narrowed his eyes. Even if he was easy to tease, this man was still a skilled swordsman with a Will that wouldn't easily break.
"Even so, nothing will change."
Panito waved his hand. The realization that he would have no hope if he kept being dragged along prompted him to act. Following his signal, over fifty arrows came flying.
This wasn't something Encrid could dodge by just tilting his head. They intended to turn him into a hedgehog. Simultaneously, an invisible hand formed in the air, repelling the raindrops. A telekinetic grasp appeared within arm's reach, ready to seize his body.
By the time Panito lowered his hand, Encrid was already gone.
If he had gained an advantage by digging into his opponent's psychology, he had to utilize it. The Luagarne-style Tactical Sword utilizes every aspect of the environment. And the very first lesson of the Valen-style Mercenary Sword was to deceive even the heavens if one could.
"Panito, watch out!"
Encrid, who had leaped to the side, shouted while keeping his eyes closed. His voice and momentum were towering. He unleashed the shout as he dodged the arrows and the telekinetic grasp.
Just as the head of the house, Tempest Zaun, manifested his intimidation as a greatsword, Encrid did the same. The momentum he spread became a physical form of pressure, bearing down on Panito.
A straight, square castle wall.
It was a momentum that offered a glimpse of an honest, upright, and unyielding Will. In Panito's vision, he saw Encrid beginning to put weight on his back foot—a gesture predicting a violent charge.
Panito's thoughts accelerated. Death felt imminent. The momentum Encrid displayed was just that intense. Within his accelerated thoughts, Panito mobilized everything he had.
I will block it.
His armor was enchanted to deflect most attacks. He could withstand a few strikes. In the meantime, if he slashed with the sword he received from Demuil, the evil spirit would plant a seed of chaos in Encrid's mind. That seed would cause illusions and voices, making him run wild.
There were more tricks. The moment the evil spirit tore through Encrid's mind, the two swordsmen behind him would pounce. In truth, the most lethal blades here weren't the evil spirit sword, but the two mindless humanoid golems—Flesh Golems painstakingly crafted by an alchemist of the previous generation.
Now, come.
The preparations were complete. Panito steeled his resolve.
"...You dog."
Panito shut his mouth, which had been about to spit an insult.
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
Fifty arrows slammed into the empty ground. The telekinesis lost its target and vanished, swept away by the wind and rain. It was the moment the two golems took their stances, ready to spring. It was when Panito was bracing for the attack of Encrid, the "upright and honest" swordsman.
Boom!
Encrid leaped backward. The ground he kicked off from gouged open. He retreated—no, charged—backward with monstrous force. Because it was the movement of a Knight utilizing Strong Legs, he seemed to vanish for an instant.
Everyone was fooled.
Having thoroughly deceived that utter fool, Encrid plunged right between the two swordsmen waiting in the rear. Had they known, they would have reacted. But the deception was so perfect they could only blink in disbelief.
It was a stunt. Deceiving with intimidation, leaping backward, and swinging his sword with all his might. His first strike sent the large swordsman's head flying.
Thwack!
The sound of the blade severing the neck was rough; the outer skin was incredibly tough. Since he had swung with full force, there should have been an opening for the small swordsman to counter, but...
Encrid threw the sword in his left hand at the exact same time he swung the sword in his right. The moment the big one's neck was severed, the thrown blade pierced the small swordsman's head, sending him flying backward into the mud.
Thud, splash.
Hescal knew Rynox—his methods, his temperament, and his habits. Even if his techniques were bizarre, Rynox never resorted to cheap tricks in a fight.
But Encrid was not Rynox.
Deceive.
Encrid had realized the core of the Valen-style Mercenary Sword and utilized it flawlessly. With the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword, he observed the environment; with the Valen-style, he used his techniques to lie.
"You scammer bastard!" Panito screamed.
Encrid pretended to pause before charging. To anyone watching, it looked like a brief moment to catch his breath. In other words, it was another setup for an unexpected assault. Though there were over ten Scalers with supernatural abilities...
If I'm not in their line of sight, they can't use telekinesis.
"If you've seen it that much, you should have figured out its weakness."
If Frok of the Order of Madness had seen this, he might have said something like that. The basis of the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword is insight. It wasn't just seeing the future; it was maintaining a razor-sharp observation to turn the tactical situation to one's advantage.
And pull it out at the necessary moment.
It was a deception utilizing the environment. Until now, Encrid had never targeted the Scalers' weakness. He exploited it now for a single strike. Sudden stops and rapid accelerations erased Encrid from their field of vision. No matter how good a monster's dynamic visual acuity was, a living creature's eyes were weak against variations in speed.
Encrid knew this well. Had he not been hit by that very trick by Alexandra?
Using the variation in speed, Encrid arrived right in front of Panito.
"You crazy bastard!"
Startled, Panito swung his sword upward. Since Encrid was taller and Panito felt a downward strike coming, it was a reflexive reaction.
Encrid recognized the nature of the sword Panito held. It was possessed by an evil spirit; he couldn't let it graze him. But he had faced this countless times against the demon One-Killer. This was just a degraded version.
His intuition told him: even if he was cut, he wouldn't die. But his cold mind spoke: There's no need to get cut either.
Samcheol, falling straight down, struck the black blade rising from below. This, too, was tactical. Not only did he have the upper hand in strength, but he also held the advantageous position.
Clang!
A tremendous roar erupted as the blades clashed, like a landslide slamming a massive boulder into the earth. The shockwave pushed away the raindrops. The blades did not separate.
It was a Bind. What Encrid did next was simple: he pushed.
So what if Panito wore enchanted armor and held a magic weapon? What about physical strength? In terms of pure power, Encrid possessed a brute force that even Rem would envy. On top of that, his Will moved to add weight. A Knight who realized Will was an asymmetric force because they transcended human limits.
Panito had gear, but his physical strength was human.
"Ugh!"
As Panito struggled to hold his ground, the sword he held was forced horizontally into his own helmet. The blade he raised to block became a guillotine for its own wielder as Encrid crushed him downward.
Clang, screech!
The evil spirit blade split its master's helmet. Sparks flew through the rain. The blade sliced through the metal, carving a lid into Panito's skull. His elbow bent backward, and broken bones burst through the joints of his armor.
"You... you..."
Naive Panito held on for a moment even with his head split. With no strength left to lift a finger, he could only protest with eyes filled with resentment. Tears of blood streamed down his face.
"Those killed by Hescal must have felt the same way," Encrid said calmly.
Among those Hescal had killed was someone Encrid had happily spent time with for a few days. Even though he had only known them briefly, he was angry. If he felt this way, how must the others have felt?
Screeech!
The evil spirit trapped in the sword shrieked as it soared into the sky, coalescing before flying back over the enemy lines. The light in Panito's eyes faded.
Gasping for his final breath, Panito muttered, "Is... is this... enough...?"
It was unclear who he was asking. With those words, Panito died. All that remained was the horde of monsters.
"Don't run away," Encrid said, his eyes still closed as his sharp senses tracked the remaining Scalers. "It's a pain to chase you down."