Chapter 728: Intoxicated by Twilight
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 728: Intoxicated by Twilight
After sparring with the crowd that had rushed him, Encrid ate well and rested comfortably.
Over the next few days, visitors continued to drop by, and their messages generally followed the same patterns.
"It’s really fun training together. Can't you just stay in Zaun?"
Some expressed their affection without hesitation.
"Thank you. And... I suppose I should apologize as well."
Others spoke with deep sincerity.
The former came from the younger generation, while the latter came from the elders. Both groups were remarkably pure, their words and actions devoid of pretense.
The youths who wanted him to stay pestered him repeatedly, asking why he had to leave. Meanwhile, those offering thanks and apologies bowed their heads low, going so far as to say that while they might not become his slaves, he should call on them whenever he needed a hand.
Occasionally, some admitted they felt ashamed of their past behavior.
"How about me instead of Riley?" a few asked in all seriousness.
He even received a proposal more unique than the rest.
"Since Riley offered to be your slave, I was thinking of becoming your wife."
She was a woman of House Zaun whose name he didn't even know. Grida had mentioned that although the woman possessed outstanding talent, her dream was to be a "wise mother." However, her fatal flaw was truly fatal.
Did she say she had a temper?
He had heard she had dated several men within Zaun, but whenever things went slightly wrong, she would beat them senseless, leading to a breakup every single time. Despite her dream of being a good wife, she had earned the nickname "The Walking Gallows" during her pilgrimage across the continent for decapitating any man she saw mistreating women.
He also heard that several promising hunters who had chased her to Zaun for her bounty had either died or ended up settling in the Hunter Village. Some of them had even died in this recent battle.
Encrid had mostly kept to himself, but thanks to the people around him sharing stories, he ended up learning all sorts of things.
"I'll pass," Encrid said.
"Tch."
At least she wasn't clingy like a certain someone.
*
"If you go to the Empire, there's gold."
"If you go to the Empire, there are beauties."
"If you go to the Empire, there are fine swords."
"If you go to the Empire, there are dwarf blacksmiths."
"If you go to the Empire, there are incredibly strong knights."
"If you go to the Empire..."
Had Schmidt always been this talkative? Hadn't he carried himself with immense gravity when they first met at the Border Guard? It had been so long that Encrid wondered if he had romanticized his memories.
Of course, that wasn't the case. Schmidt was simply an excellent recruiting officer doing his absolute best to fulfill his duty.
"Does that fellow come by every day?"
Hearing Ragna speak, it seemed Encrid's memory wasn't wrong after all.
"Are you sick of me? But I'm in no condition to leave for the Empire right away. Look at this. I ended up like this while fighting."
Schmidt had seemed perfectly fine when rambling about the Forbidden Scripture, but now that the adrenaline had faded, he was nursing a deep stab wound on his upper thigh.
"If it had hit just a little higher... whew."
He wouldn't have been able to function as a man for the rest of his life.
Schmidt shook his head. "Well, even if a demonic beast's claw pierced me up there, there's a reason why it's somewhat fine."
"What is it?" Ragna asked.
Encrid didn't ask; he already knew the answer.
"The Empire will recognize me as a disabled veteran and award me a medal. I'll become a decorated hero."
He meant that would happen even though he hadn't fought directly for the Empire. To Schmidt, the recruiting officer's duty itself was a service to the throne. Encrid wondered if there was a book titled Tales of the Omnipotent Empire that Schmidt had memorized cover to cover.
And then there was the one who visited even more frequently than Schmidt. He was practically the first face Encrid saw upon waking at dawn.
"Are you awake?"
"...Why are you here every single day?"
"To express my gratitude. Thank you for saving Zaun."
A deep bow.
Every dawn during training, the Head of House Zaun would visit, bow his head, and leave. He did this even though he hadn't recovered yet, his physical balance visibly in shambles whenever he walked.
Dawn wasn't the end of it. He would return when the sun reached its zenith. Arriving just as Encrid finished his meal, the Head of House Zaun would speak again.
"Have you eaten?"
"Didn't you say you only went blind in one eye? You can see perfectly well, so why are you asking?"
The Head of House Zaun had indeed lost an eye. Still, with his remaining one, it shouldn't have been difficult to see the remnants of a finished meal.
"Thank you for saving Zaun."
And he would bow his head again.
If that were the end, it would be fine, but Encrid had to see him again before going to sleep.
"Not asleep yet?"
"Can't you tell by looking?"
"If not for you, Zaun would have lost many people."
"Hescal deserves credit as well."
"I have not forgotten his contribution either. Regardless, thank you for saving Zaun."
"I feel like I'm growing calluses on my ears."
The Head of House Zaun visited morning, noon, and night for three consecutive days. Having heard that he would never be able to display his former prowess again, one might expect him to be wallowing in a sense of loss, yet he never failed to seek Encrid out, even while dripping with sweat from the effort of walking.
"Ragna."
"Yes?"
"Why is your father acting like that?"
Encrid asked despite half-knowing the answer. Still, there was no harm in asking; Ragna might tell him something he didn't know.
Ragna recalled his father's habit, which he had temporarily forgotten. Ever since Ragna was young, Tempest Zaun had spoken and acted with his whole heart. Because he struggled to convey emotion through his words, he increased the frequency of his actions to ensure his sincerity got across.
"It's because he's grateful."
"Yes, I know that much."
He just thought it was a bit excessive.
*
Thus, Encrid stayed in Zaun for a short while.
"Give me just a week. I still have a few things to touch up," Anne had said, and Encrid himself was satisfied with the brief stay. It was a pleasant, restorative time.
They say you learn by teaching.
He had experienced this before, but Zaun was overflowing with exceptionally talented individuals. They, too, enjoyed learning from Encrid. It was a perfect match, proving highly beneficial for everyone involved.
"There's no one in Zaun who explains things like you do, Enki."
Among them was a child who, after slamming their head on the ground a few times in greeting, approached him with mock familiarity.
"You're really good at explaining. How about tonight?"
There was also a giant who repeatedly targeted the spot next to Encrid's bed. He later heard that Anahera enjoyed making such jokes, but the fact that it sounded half-serious made him wonder if his intuition was malfunctioning.
"If Anahera says she's coming along, will you take her?"
Considering Ragna was the one asking, perhaps his intuition wasn't broken after all.
"That is her own choice."
There was no reason to refuse.
"Sinar will be absolutely thrilled. I wonder if Esther will be happy too."
There was a subtle edge to Ragna's words.
"Whatever."
Encrid brushed off Ragna's joke and simply swung his sword. In any case, teaching so many people naturally led him to look back on the path he had walked.
And that is what helps.
The path he had walked, and the path he hadn't walked but could now see. The path seen by those brimming with talent. The path seen by those who had talent but lacked confidence.
He pondered and reflected on those paths. If you only look forward while walking, you cannot see what lies behind. Therefore, one needs the wisdom to stop and look back. Encrid absorbed that wisdom, and in doing so, he learned yet another lesson.
*
It was a day when twilight was falling. The lingering sunlight faded, casting a mysterious glow over the basin. Personally, it was his favorite time of day.
The hour between dog and wolf, as they called it. A phrase coined because one could not distinguish a dog from a wolf by its silhouette approaching from afar. The sky was neither completely dark nor bright, wearing a bluish and yellow hue at the same time, and the air was comfortably cool.
On days like this, things were bound to happen. If a man and a woman were together, they might fall in love; or perhaps some good fortune would arrive, or one might unexpectedly find peace of mind. A child abandoned by their parents might step out of their shadow and stand on their own. A man who grew up unloved, spitting only thorny words, might awaken to love. For if he realized that love was not just about receiving but also about giving, he could begin a new life.
Everyone has a magical moment like this—a single moment that could change everything. And even if it didn't change everything, it might serve as a gentle push on the back, urging one toward what seemed utterly impossible.
It was a twilight permeated by such magic. Dozens of colors bled from the intersection of orange and blue. Somewhere, insects chirped, and today, fewer visitors had come since midday. For the time being, no one else would be coming. The Head of House Zaun's greeting wouldn't be until much later, and Schmidt had already visited during the day. Ragna had gone to the cliff behind the basin with Anne to check the habitat of some rare herbs.
There was no one to visit, and save for the chirping of the insects, the world was quiet. Intoxicated by the mysterious light, Encrid explored his inner world.
Was it because he had witnessed such an impressive sight recently? Hescal’s image appeared in his mind, dropping down from a large tree.
“Look at things with multifaceted thinking. A person doesn't live with just one face. And if you want to know someone deeply, find out what they truly desire.”
Everything Hescal had done could not be understood if viewed through a simple lens.
What Hescal desired was the survival of Zaun.
That must have been why he had laughed and brushed it off when asked about his dream before everything began. Usurping divinity was merely a tool.
Yes, he knew that too. Enjoying swordsmanship and holding a sword to grasp what one desires are two different things.
One thought that struck him anew was that the people of Zaun were different from him. They did not swing their swords to eradicate the Demon Realm or out of some grand, cosmic desire. So, he would not force them. Nothing had changed since he first saw Grida, Odinkar, and Magrun. Did they owe him their lives? Yes. But did that mean he had to force them into a life they didn't want?
I don't want that.
As soon as his thoughts settled, Oara suddenly emerged from the shadows between the houses. The blue light of twilight permeated her body. Oara's steps were light, and her face was bright. Approaching gracefully, she asked, "Have you been well?"
Without waiting for an answer, she began to speak.
"Jeong-Jung-Hwan-Kwae-Yu—you plan to master all five, don't you? Even for a knight, there's usually a primary style they focus on, but you're going to do them all. Right? You won't discard a single one."
Oara. She had died, leaving a deep impression on him. Emerging from his illusion, she left behind many words. Not a single one was to be discarded. Everything was a clue for a beginning.
Yet, Encrid ignored it.
No more illusions.
The moment he made up his mind, Oara vanished.
I learned, and I moved forward.
And he had reached the present. His mind was peaceful, and his head was clear, thanks to his rest and recovery. That peaceful mind provided the answer.
Go beyond learning and mastering. His senses told him: Now.
It was time to redefine and build anew. He had seen and felt many things. He pulled one of them out to serve as his cornerstone.
The Wave-Blocking Sword is the Orthodox Sword style.
He had learned its basics from Ragna. What Ragna did through instinct with his innate talent, Encrid did through calculation. The Orthodox Sword style is trained through the Wave-Blocking Sword. What Encrid was doing now was determining the training method for each style.
His thoughts flowed, and because the magic of twilight had not ended, Encrid roamed freely within it. He flew, ran, and swam. The light of twilight became the sky, the lake, and the earth.
The Heavy Sword through physical training.
The techniques learned from Valaf-style Martial Arts close the distance to put power into a single strike. That was only natural. Not many would repeatedly allow someone who used their fists as weapons to close the distance. On top of that, he had witnessed the Point Explosion, the Head of House's technique for manipulating Will. Since he had learned how to burst Will from Alexandra, he could build his swordsmanship based on that. The Heavy Sword is an explosion.
There was no need to create the full style right away. Since he only needed the cornerstone, there was no need to delve deeper. At least, not yet.
Deception is based on Luagarne-style Tactical Thinking.
He would mix the techniques of the Valen-style Mercenary Sword into it. Tactics are used to gain an advantage, and the Illusion Sword was never a concept of simply swinging a blade in the first place. It was closer to a tactical concept.
The Fast Sword comes from the optimization of thought.
He had learned it from Rem. Rem was someone who could make a judgment and swing his axe in the briefest of openings. Of course, he did so by instinct. Encrid, on the other hand, achieved it through the optimization of thought known as Flash. In terms of speed alone, Rem was the best.
And the Soft Sword.
The Sword of Chance utilizes every single moment. To do that, one would have to exploit every situation with outstanding senses. A flowing sword must focus on sensation from the very beginning. One cannot deflect attacks by calculating every single point of impact. Thus, one must listen with the ears and perceive even the vibrations of the air with the skin.
The Gate of the Sixth Sense, sensory perception.
No matter what it was called, it was the same. He had to master sensory techniques, for it was impossible without a unique sensitivity. On top of that, he had to accumulate experience—experiencing it countless times and embodying it. The Soft Sword was a realm that even a genius could not reach if they were too young. The Sword of Chance was the maximization of such a Soft Sword. Cultivating senses and drawing every moment into one's own luck—that was the direction the Soft Sword pursued.
The established theory became the foundation, built upon solid ground.
Twilight had ended before he knew it. In fact, the night had passed as well.
"Did you sleep well?"
As on any other morning, the Head of House Zaun approached and asked. Encrid, who had stayed up all night standing, replied, "Yes, I slept very well."
It was a path walked on his own, not through teaching. It would be a lie to say he wasn't happy.
"Thank you for saving Zaun."
The Head of House Zaun offered the exact same greeting to convey his sincerity. Encrid simply laughed. In a way, this simple, stubborn integrity seemed to be the very symbol of Zaun.
And that afternoon, a new guest arrived.
It was roughly around the time Anne had mentioned. In other words, it was the moment he was thinking of leaving—and also the point when Ragna had not been seen for two days.