Chapter 736: That Someone
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 736: That Someone
When gripping the spear shaft wide and thrusting, how should one's stride be?
Brunhild knew the answer without even asking.
“Why did you shift your footing?”
Encrid would ask this every time, and Brunhild would lean on her spear like a staff, lost in thought.
In a way, it was a rather comical sight. One swung the spear however she pleased, while the other questioned why she did so. Could this really be called teaching?
Yet, it worked.
Her aptitude is extraordinary.
Moreover, she wasn't lazy at all. If diligence could be called a talent, then she certainly possessed it. It was a talent separate from her innate gifts—the ability to enjoy herself even when exhausted. Brunhild's eyes still sparkled, even though she was merely swinging a spear.
“How many times did you say to repeat this?”
“A hundred times a day.”
Even though he only told her to practice simple thrusts and basic shaft movements, she smiled happily, delighted.
Although Encrid primarily used a sword, he had held a spear before. He guided her through the basics he knew, focusing on passing down the insights he had realized through their questions and answers.
The important thing is how to apply force.
It shouldn't make a difference what weapon was held in one's hand.
She will figure out the basics on her own.
What this child needed was the knack for it. To put it simply, Encrid was planting signposts along the path Brunhild would eventually walk.
When Encrid snapped off a tree branch, trimmed the twigs, and swung it like a wooden sword, Brunhild excitedly mirrored him with her spear. Encrid spent half the day like this.
Still, something is missing.
Brunhild possessed outstanding talent, but she kept skipping the intermediate steps. While it didn't seem to be a problem right now, it was better to understand the process properly before moving on. He would have to give this some thought.
It wasn't as if he could write a manual on martial techniques right here and now. If he did, he would have to stay in this village for at least half a year.
That would be difficult.
His original plan was merely to resolve the immediate threat. No matter how formidable the demonic beasts were, as long as they showed themselves, there would be no problem. He was just waiting for that moment.
I can just cull their numbers.
This was something worth trying now that he was a knight. If those demonic beasts showed their faces, he could chase them down for two sleepless nights, slashing and thrusting until they were all dead. Although there were no signs of them at the moment, if he set his mind to searching, he would surely find them. It wouldn't take long.
Encrid was no master hunter, but he wasn't blind either. It was easy to lose one's way in the mountains, but with such a clear base of operations, he wouldn't get lost as long as he didn't venture too far.
It's not like I'm Ragna.
The demonic beast problem plaguing Harkvent was of little consequence to Encrid.
Before long, the sun began to dip below the horizon. Days are short in the mountains; that was only natural, unless one lived on a high plateau like Zaun. The surrounding mountain ranges quickly blocked the sunlight, casting long shadows and stretching Brunhild's silhouette across the dirt.
“Heh.”
The sunset glowed behind the child, who was still smiling as she swung her spear. A touch of orange swept over her, brushed past him, and caressed the entire village. A sentimentalist might have called it a warm and gentle light—a touch that embraced those who had endured day after day, holding on to reach the present.
In the midst of this, illusions appeared. The faces of those he had ultimately failed to protect rose vividly before his eyes. No matter how many times he repeated today, this shadow would never disappear. Some stains could never be washed away. Some scars, though faded, retained their distinct shapes.
Please help us.
He had risked his life for that single plea, and he had failed. Encrid had been unable to save anyone.
Anyone... someone has to save us. It shouldn't be like this. It's not fair.
They called it a village of sinners. There was a father whose daughter was taken, who had tried to kill the lord, failed, and became a fugitive. There were those whose assets were seized because they couldn't pay the registration tax required to stay in the city.
Amidst the orange sunset, chaotic memories scrambled through his mind. For countless days, he had imagined it: if only someone had helped at that moment, would things have been different?
Someone.
Pride did not swell in his chest, but the fine hairs on his arms stood on end, and a faint tremor ran through his entire body. Encrid had finally become that someone from the moments he had imagined across countless stretches of time.
From among the illusions, a woman wearing an apron with her hair neatly braided stepped forward and spoke.
“Why would we ever resent you? If not for you, no one would have even stepped forward. So, please... lay down your burden now. It's alright. You've done enough.”
A stinging emotion welled up, vibrating in his heart and rising to his face. Since there was no need to hold it back, Encrid let his tears fall. It held no grand significance; he was simply letting his emotions flow.
“Yah!”
Right beside Encrid, the genius girl swung her spear. He thought that if she grew up like this, she too might one day become that someone for others.
* * *
Due to the attacks of the wild dog demonic beasts, Harkvent had been unable to sleep to the point where dark circles formed under his eyes. Anxiety and worry gnawed at him.
If we go into the city like this...
They would have to live in the slums. Was that the right choice?
Maybe it is, rather than everyone dying.
What was the correct answer? Harkvent knew there were no correct answers in life. It was one of the things he had learned after living past his forties.
But is such a life truly right? Should one live for fifty years as a slave? Or should one live for five years as a human?
If they died while defending the village, they would die with hope. But if they headed down to the city just to survive, they would live in despair. It would be no different from living as a slave once more. Even making their way down through the mountain range was no simple task. Could they even save half of their people?
“Ugh.”
The mental pressure gripped his mind, affecting his body and making him gag. Having eaten nothing, only sour gastric juice trickled out. His throat burned. His eyes, ears, and nose all felt hot. He felt like a piece of meat trapped in a steamer.
“Whew.”
Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and looked up at the sunset. Watching it brought to mind the outsider with black hair—a man with an unforgettable appearance. He had killed the demonic beast in a single blow. Was that swordsman the savior of their village?
But what if he wasn't? What if he wanted something? If he killed the demonic beasts and demanded something in return, could they even give it to him?
What if he demands my daughter?
Would he have to give her up? If giving up one could save everyone, was that what he had to do? It was agonizing. He knew he should, but he couldn't.
No, that couldn't be. Harkvent knew one of the absolute truths of the world: salvation must be achieved by one's own hands. No one can save another in their stead.
“Don't shoulder it all on your own, Harkvent.”
An elder over sixty years old approached. His back was bent, and cataracts clouded his eyes.
“Everyone will choose and decide their own lives. Haven't we always lived that way?”
“...I know.”
“If that swordsman demands something absurd, we will fight until the very last of us remains.”
He spoke as if he had read Harkvent's worries.
“We must stop the demonic beasts first.”
That was indeed the case. That was the order of things. The night sky, now devoid of the sunset, was pitch black. As if displeased with the darkness, two moons and a sea of stars shone as if in competition. It was just that Harkvent lacked the peace of mind to enjoy such beauty; the light did not register in his eyes. His mind was filled with anxiety over this untimely crisis.
And then, a sound rang out, striking the bell of his anxiety with full force. It was not a pleasant sound.
Thud! Craaaack!
Harkvent's village was a small basin surrounded by ancient trees. If someone were to look down from above, they would see a tightly clustered circle, cleverly hidden deep within the mountains. The sound of one of those ancient trees—their natural barrier—snapping was as loud as a clap of thunder.
“A bear!”
Someone shouted. Harkvent recognized the voice as Jerry's. He was a capable man with sharp eyes and ears who knew how to craft bows and arrows. Because the recent movements of the demonic beasts had been unusual, they had set up several traps along the perimeter and were keeping watch. Jerry was one of the many who, like Harkvent, had been losing sleep.
Harkvent grabbed the spear he had leaned against his semi-basement house and rushed out.
“If it's a bear demonic beast, you'll die even if you go! Everyone, hide!” the elder shrieked with a force unbefitting his age.
Hiding was not the solution. Harkvent knew this by instinct.
Running headlong toward the source, he witnessed the reality behind the thunderous noise. Standing on two legs, its majesty was extraordinary. People often used the expression "as big as a house," and it was literally true. Its bulk was three times larger than a human's.
And that massive bulk was currently spraying black blood in all directions.
To be precise, what met his eyes was a demonic beast with its neck half-severed, wildly swinging its claws. Then, the man standing before it deflected the bear's paw with his bare hands.
Did he need to rub his eyes? Was he seeing things correctly?
It was only natural to question his own senses. Harkvent had never seen a knight. In fact, it was common for people to go their entire lives without ever seeing one. With the changing state of the continent, several armed groups that had hidden their power were rising, making the presence of knights suddenly tangible on the battlefields. However, this was a village of hermits. Most of its members were ignorant of continental affairs.
Thus, it was a scene he could never have imagined. He had been astonished by the invisible movements when the man dispatched the wild dog demonic beasts, but this was far beyond that. After all, they could somehow manage to fight wild dogs.
But a bear demonic beast? Especially one as massive as a house?
* * *
It was before anyone could even shout “bear,” and before the tree had even fallen.
The moment Encrid opened his eyes to an ominous premonition, he bolted upright and stepped lightly out of bed. Aside from his clothes, the only gear he had to wear was a pair of cloth gauntlets. Encrid didn't even have time to put them on, so he stepped out holding only Samcheol.
He pushed past the demonic beast hide serving as the entrance with a sharp snap, and a faint, pungent stench hit his nose. Once he caught the scent, pinpointing the direction was child's play. As he honed his senses, he heard the loud cracking of breaking branches.
It was the sound of something massive moving closer.
Its presence was distinct. As Encrid took a step toward it, a heavy thud echoed, and someone who had spotted the silhouette by the moonlight cried out, “A bear!”
Just looking at that massive body suddenly looming out of the pitch-black darkness would make anyone's knees buckle. That is, if they were an ordinary person.
Encrid leaped forward and grabbed the scruff of the man facing the bear. The man had frozen mid-shout. Wild beasts are predators, and when a beast becomes a demonic beast, simply looking at it can paralyze a person. This was the basic principle of the intimidation possessed by monsters—the prey's fear paralyzing their body.
The beginning of the Will of Rejection... was shaking off fear.
It was a thought that occurred to him as he ran. It was fine to have such stray thoughts. Though he had rushed out in a hurry, he found himself composed once he arrived and assessed the situation. This composure was likely thanks to his prompt reaction.
As Encrid grabbed the man by the scruff and threw him backward, the man's legs went airborne.
“Ugh, ah, ugh.”
Just as the fellow, unable to even scream properly, fell flat on his backside, the bear demonic beast lunged and swung its claws. Despite its size, it was incredibly fast. Seeing how it redirected its claws—which had originally been aimed at tearing the man apart—toward him, its judgment was also sharp.
Encrid raised the sword in his hand at an angle. The blade of Samcheol looked like a child's forearm trying to block a giant's axe, but that forearm was more than capable of repelling the giant's blow.
Clang!
Its claws are thick.
The moonlight was bright. It wasn't difficult to see ahead. While not as clear as broad daylight, it was enough to distinguish the features of the lunging demonic beast.
It's missing an eye.
The scar covering one of its eyes was old, and a crescent-shaped patch of differently colored fur stood out on its chest.
Upon becoming a demonic beast, its strength has multiplied, and its claws have become as hard as steel.
A few other characteristics of the demonic beast registered in his mind, but he brushed them aside. Since he was still in the process of adapting to Luagarne-style Tactical Thinking, he tended to process everything he perceived as information, but it was also necessary to ignore what was useless. Otherwise, he would suffer from cognitive overload.
So, Encrid did just that. He ignored the excess details.
Deflecting the descending claws with Samcheol's ink-gold blade, he immediately slashed at its neck. The blade traced two trajectories in the air: one to parry, and the second to sever the neck.
Thwack!
Black blood sprayed everywhere as the beast let out a deafening roar. In truth, it was less of a roar and more of a pain-filled shriek. Even in that state, it reached out with its other paw.
This is necessary information.
Having become a demonic beast, it possessed a tenacious vitality. Blood vessels were already tangling together at its severed neck, beginning to regenerate. Furthermore, it was hostile enough to attack even while writhing in pain.
He deliberately deflected the bear's other descending paw with his bare hand. Thanks to this, his hand holding Samcheol gained some freedom. The bear demonic beast resisted until the very end. Opening its maw wide, it tried to bite off Encrid's head, completely ignoring its dangling neck. It was a level of savagery that defied rational insight.
Well, that's a surprise.
Encrid thought for a brief moment and activated the Sword of Chance, moving as if even this had been planned. Samcheol, which had been drawing a straight vertical line, curved its trajectory and pierced horizontally through the bear's cheek, halting its movement.
Thud! Crunch!
The beast bit down on Samcheol, and Encrid pulled back the hand that had deflected the bear's face while stepping forward with his right foot. In an instant, he shifted into a left-handed stance.
From this adjusted stance, he pulled back his right hand holding Samcheol and swung his left fist. Just as the beast's head, biting the blade, came into the perfect position to be struck, Encrid's ankle and waist rotated.
His extending left hand delivered a blow that combined the principles of Valaf-style Martial Arts with the Heavy Sword Style strike he had learned from watching Ragna. His fist, imbued with Will, struck the bear's head.
Splat!
The bear's head exploded, scattering debris to one side. Encrid shook his hand in the air. Since he wasn't wearing his gauntlets, it felt as though even his fingernails would be stained black.
Encrid looked straight ahead. Even though the bear demonic beast was dead, the pungent stench still assailed his nose. In the darkness, two leopards glared at him. It was a distance he could easily close if he ran.
As his mind moved, his body reacted.
With a sharp thud, dirt erupted from beneath the heels of Encrid's boots. Reflecting the moonlight, the gleam of Samcheol drew a long line as it surged toward the two leopard demonic beasts.