Chapter 719: Just Two Swordsmen
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 719: Just Two Swordsmen
Encrid had managed to conserve his Will through rigid self-control, but the mental toll was heavy. It felt as if a fog of impurities had settled over his mind.
Restraining an overflowing pool of Will consumed far more mental strength than simply letting it run wild. It was only natural—moving a massive boulder required significantly more effort than letting it roll down a hill. This was exactly the case for Encrid.
Fatigue had seeped into both his mind and body. He had fought continuously while drenched in the freezing rain, all while forcing his Will into a tight leash. He was far from peak condition.
Still, it wasn't a problem.
Skreik!
A few monsters blocked their path; he swung Penna and split their skulls open in one fluid motion.
Beside him, Ragna swung his greatsword without a moment's hesitation.
The massive blade moved with eerie silence, cutting through the air to pierce straight into an owlbear’s torso. It was a surgical thrust. Quite apart from his mastery of heavy swordsmanship, Ragna’s innate talent was enough to shock even a master of the Orthodox Sword Forms.
‘No matter how many times I see it, he never ceases to amaze me.’
To Encrid, it looked as if Ragna swung his sword purely on instinct and intuition. Yet, that raw talent always led him to the most lethal path.
‘It is talent, in the truest sense of the word.’
The owlbear that had just attacked had actually been anticipating a slash. Its movements gave it away—it was a rare, peculiar specimen that possessed extraordinary combat instincts rather than supernatural abilities.
‘Just as there are exceptional individuals among humans, there are such outliers among monsters.’
The owlbear had openly revealed its presence, bracing itself for the impact of a wide swing. When pressed for time, with only a split second to act, most people habitually fall back on their most familiar movements. Therefore, Ragna should have slashed. Encrid had expected it, and the owlbear had banked on it—but Ragna had thrust instead. He hadn't hesitated for a single heartbeat.
This meant he hadn't changed his mind mid-swing; he had intended to attack this way from the very beginning. With that one choice, the owlbear’s instincts were rendered useless. Normally, even if its torso were severed by a slash, it would have tried to gouge Ragna with its claws or aim for an eye.
The way the beast’s arms flailed as the greatsword impaled it was striking. If Ragna had slashed, those extended claws might have reached him.
‘Well, even if they had, he wouldn't have been taken down.’
Still, the result spoke for itself. The owlbear stumbled back and collapsed, a gaping hole in its stomach. Ragna didn't give it a second chance, slamming his greatsword down until its head was crushed.
"Why the thrust?" Encrid asked.
"Felt like it," Ragna replied.
The answer was typical of him.
‘No wonder Hescal was defeated.’
Hescal acted as if his deceptive sword was his main strength, but that was a ruse. His true strength lay in the Orthodox Sword Forms—his personal tactics for cornering an opponent. With his vast experience and sharp mind, Hescal created layers of deception to form a veil, using it as a weapon.
A double deception. He used even his deceptive sword as a tactical tool. Once caught in his calculations, an opponent would struggle like a butterfly in a spiderweb before dying.
But Ragna was a different breed. Ragna always pushed his opponent toward a dead end first; the heavy sword was simply the tool he used to finish them. That was how his sword worked.
Thinking about it now, the foundation of Encrid's own wave-blocking sword was derived from Ragna’s style. The process was different, but the result was the same. Encrid blocked through calculation; Ragna blocked through innate talent. Even without instruction, Ragna knew the path his sword should take. It was as if he were finding a path he had never walked before, yet knew by heart.
He was a heaven-sent genius. It was a form of talent completely different from Rem’s spontaneous judgment.
"You monster," Encrid muttered.
Yet, he did not stop walking. Ragna kept his head half-bowed. Since they couldn't afford to waste Will, they had to avoid Medusa’s gaze. However, hearing Encrid’s comment, Ragna raised his head. It was a waste of Will, but he couldn't let that slide.
"Right back at you, Captain. Hearing that from you is as unpleasant as being compared to a bastard like Rem."
Having made his point, the lazy fellow lowered his head again.
"Are you picking a fight?"
"I am entirely serious."
Encrid chuckled, keeping his head lowered while maintaining his cognitive domain.
Along the way, some coward from the hunter’s village fired a few arrows at them before immediately fleeing. Encrid caught them out of midair. They weren't infused with Will, so they posed no threat. When Leona Lockfried had first arrived in the city, Encrid had to use Single-Point Focus just to dodge a throwing dagger. Now, he could catch arrows with ease. His dynamic visual acuity, physical strength, and reflexes were on a completely different level.
As they closed the distance to Medusa, a crushing pressure began to weigh down on them. Countless monsters inhabited the Demon Realm, but only the most prominent were given names. The Balrog was one; Medusa was another.
Sssssssss!
The sorcery snakes floating above its head let out a collective hiss, identical to a Scaler’s cry.
‘This is bad.’
They had fought well so far, but if the battle dragged on, Zaun would fall. No matter how outstanding the leaders were, if the remaining monsters rushed the stronghold, they wouldn't be able to stop them all.
‘If the people die, does the house of Zaun even exist? Surely not.’
They had to eliminate the primary threat influencing the entire battlefield. Encrid estimated the distance to Medusa and recalled the demons he had slain before.
‘One-Killer was a lethal type that killed with a single scratch, but...’
Medusa was different. Even as the two swordsmen approached, the monster did nothing but spread its Curse of Petrification.
‘A battle of endurance.’
That was Medusa’s specialty. Its scales looked incredibly hard, and its dark green lips, cracked like parched earth, would surely spew poison. A tail lay hidden behind its massive body, waiting for the right moment.
‘An attrition-type monster.’
It was a knight’s natural enemy. Its intimidation suppressed the battlefield, and its stamina was likely bottomless. It possessed the tools to devour anyone who tried to end the fight quickly.
Of course, Encrid was capable of matching that style. He could engage in a war of attrition.
‘If I take my time, it’s an easy victory.’
If he adopted a tactic of diligent, repetitive strikes, he would win in about two days. Medusa’s body would regenerate, but not infinitely. He could endure the occasional curse and dodge the tail. Then, when an opening appeared, he would wear it down until it died.
It was a future his insight revealed clearly. At most, the battle would be decided in three days. It was a tactic no one but Encrid could even attempt, requiring an inexhaustible supply of Will and the mental fortitude to endure seventy-two hours of high-stakes combat.
But if he fought like that, they would lose the war. In those three days, Riley, Anahera, and Kato would all die. The side gate would fall, and the city would be flanked. Even if they won the duel, they would protect nothing.
"Ragna."
"Yes."
"We end this in a single strike."
Explaining tactics was useless now. They would move according to the flow of the moment, but their roles had to be set.
"You open the path."
He couldn't leave the finishing blow to Ragna, who still had a hole in his shoulder. Instead of answering, Ragna raised his greatsword, the tip pointing toward the dark sky.
Crash!
Right on cue, lightning split the heavens. A white flash illuminated the basin. Watching this, Encrid sheathed Samcheol, caught his breath, and spoke.
"Just two swordsmen. Charge."
Ragna repeated the order, his will aligning perfectly with Encrid’s.
"Just two swordsmen. Charge."
They would slay the Demon Realm monster in a single strike. This wasn't like the fight against One-Killer. If they failed here, they died. Was it a gamble? Perhaps. But without this risk, everyone else would die.
Perhaps that was why Encrid felt a grin tugging at his lips.
‘This is fun.’
He was enjoying himself. The exhilaration rising from deep within burned away the impurities. The residue that had made his head dull and his limbs heavy was swept away by a rising heat. In its place was a blazing fire—a flame capable of vaporizing every raindrop before it touched his skin.
Preparation was complete. Ragna took the lead, acting as Encrid’s shield, and began to run.
*
With every step, Ragna felt the intimidation radiating from the Medusa. It felt like wading through a swamp. Moreover, the monster wasn't alone. Two Scalers lunged at him from the flanks like the wind.
Ragna swung his greatsword in a wide semi-circle, cleaving both their torsos. Black blood sprayed the mud as he accelerated.
Thud!
As he surged forward, Encrid followed in his shadow. Ragna found it absurd that the captain had called him a monster. Who was he to say that to whom?
‘Neither Father nor Mother, nor anyone else knows.’
He remembered the sparring match in the bathhouse. The winner and loser had been clear. It had been a match with half-serious intent, the most realistic sparring Encrid had engaged in since coming to Zaun. A captain in actual combat and a captain focused on sparring were two different entities. Ragna knew this better than anyone.
‘The captain at full strength...’
...would surpass his current self. Since the Elven Forest, Ragna had forced himself to keep up, making it look like they were equals. But if they fought seriously now, he would lose.
Ragna found that incredibly thrilling. Whether the rain poured or Medusa loomed, a vibration of pure excitement ran through his body. Desire reared its head. He wanted to see it. He wanted to see what Encrid had become. The pathetic fellow from his days as a troublemaking squad leader had surpassed him. Genius? Talent? Laughable. The man who had transcended all of that was right here, and even now, he never stopped moving forward.
‘Have you taken another step?’ he asked inwardly.
No answer was needed. Encrid was an artisan who molded the clay of yesterday, tempered it in the fires of today, and forged the masterpiece of tomorrow. Ragna was curious to see what kind of vessel he had baked.
Ragna’s sword was calm. He struck down everything in their path as if he already knew the answers to a test.
Whoosh!
Once they crossed a certain threshold, Medusa’s tail finally swept across the ground, lunging at them.
Rumble!
The earth tore up, shaking violently. As the scales covering the tail bristled, it looked like a massive pillar of blades charging at them.
‘I must not dodge.’
It wasn't a calculated decision. It was instinct. If he jumped, the tail would follow and swat him out of the air. He had to block it. But if he blocked it, he would be forced onto the defensive. Ragna didn't need to think it through; he just knew.
He raised his greatsword and drove it into the ground.
Boom!
It felt as if a palace pillar had crashed into him. The blade-like scales ground against the back of his hand. The leather of his gauntlet was gouged, drawing blood, but his wrist held firm.
Then, the tip of Medusa’s tail curved upward, revealing a sharp stinger—like a hidden blade finally unsheathed. If he pulled his greatsword out now, the momentum of the tail would blow him back. If he stayed still, the stinger would punch a hole through his skull.
Where was the answer?
Once again, Ragna found it through instinct. He reached his hand back. His fingers brushed the hilt of the captain’s sidearm—the sword called Penna. He grabbed it and swung. In that one motion, he condensed and infused his Will.
‘Will conversion.’
It was a technique he only succeeded in sixty percent of the time during practice. But here, the Will condensed in Penna burst with a brilliant blue-white light.
Slaaaash!
Following the trajectory of Ragna’s swing, the tip of Medusa’s tail was severed, spinning into the air. The threat was cast aside.
And then.
‘Now.’
Medusa’s head was high above—higher than three men standing on each other's shoulders. However, because the tail had lunged and been pinned, it had created a makeshift staircase leading straight to the monster's throat.
Ragna saw the path. He knew the captain saw it too. Just as Penna had been placed in his hand without a word, no further communication was needed.
Ragna dropped into a deep crouch, and Encrid, stepping onto Ragna’s shoulders, leaped.
It was a light step, yet Encrid’s body shot upward faster than a bolt from a crossbow.
Crash!
A bolt of lightning struck right beside them, the deafening roar paralyzing the world for a heartbeat as Encrid soared toward the monster's head.