Chapter 744: Resentment and Despair
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 744: Resentment and Despair
"It is simply my time to die. Everyone dies eventually."
Encrid watched Sachsen, who remained unnervingly calm even in the face of his own end. After Sachsen came Audin.
"May the Apostle of War guide you."
Audin gathered his final, rattling breath to offer a prayer of blessing.
"I believe it was the happiest time of my life."
Teresa, the half-giant, passed away while softly singing a serene melody.
"Fiancé, it is your turn to take an evil spirit as your bride."
Sinar cracked jokes until the very moment the light left her eyes. It was so like her.
Grrrr.
'Why is Esther a panther?'
The only witch Encrid knew died in the form of a black beast. Many others fell alongside them. The book of nightmares was written in the ink of loss.
Though he could not see the exact moment of their passing, the encroaching reality of death became a weight so heavy it made his heart ache.
"Enjoy the show. This is only the beginning."
The Ferryman was determined to erode Encrid's mind. Like a squirrel gnawing through an acorn shell, he slowly sank his venomous mental fangs deeper into Encrid’s psyche.
Waking up, Encrid brushed aside the nightmare, which had featured an even more illustrious cast than the night before. Remembering it wouldn't change anything, and even if he tried to persuade the Ferryman with words, it was unlikely the entity would cease its nightly torment.
Moreover, he had a nagging suspicion.
'He's aiming for something.'
There was a calculated reason behind the Ferryman's actions. Since he couldn't discern the goal immediately, it was difficult to formulate a counter-response. So, he simply did what he had to do.
It was only last night that Pel, after standing vigil for three days, had suddenly collapsed.
"For what purpose did you ask us all to gather, brother?"
Standing on one side of the training ground, Audin spoke as he saw Encrid step forward.
"Don't you know I'm busy?" Rem added, looking as idle as a man could be.
"What is this so early in the morning..."
There was also a lazybones who insisted it was still dawn even though the sun had risen long ago; Sachsen, standing silently with his arms crossed; and Sinar, who sometimes wore a smile that recalled a beautiful portrait of Dorothea, though today her face was its usual expressionless mask.
Esther, transformed into a panther, watched with her chin resting on her front paws, while Teresa sat quietly beside her.
Encrid warmed up as he surveyed them. Starting from his fingertips, he meticulously heated every muscle in his body.
"No, seriously, what are you doing?"
"Step forward, Rem."
Encrid locked eyes with the bickering barbarian.
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted. The only movement Encrid made was a slight slide of his left foot. Watching from the sidelines, Luagarne recognized the stance as part of the Tactical Sword.
'That left foot could be the start of an attack, or it could be the beginning of a deception.'
The Tactical Sword was a method of combat designed to secure the high ground in every possible aspect.
Rem opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. Before anyone realized, his hand was already gripping the handle of his axe. The distance between them was perfect for a lethal exchange.
In truth, both were so seasoned in combat that they could strike regardless of the distance, but they were currently within their most effective killing range. The sounds of the world faded, and Encrid’s vision narrowed until only Rem remained.
'The distance is in my favor.'
Since he had given Samcheol to Eitri, only Penna hung at his waist. Still, it was longer than an axe, granting him a reach advantage.
What about the environment? Rem would likely utilize it better. Optimization of thought was Rem's specialty; he used everything around him through pure instinct and intuition.
Encrid kept his eyes fixed on Rem, calculating the situation, the environment, and every variable. Rem did the same. Neither blinked. Even as dust swirled in the wind, they remained as still as statues.
The early summer sunlight touched the blades of grass growing between the stone slabs of the training ground. It was a day too hot to simply stand still.
Then, Encrid and Rem swung. It was impossible to tell who moved first. They were that fast, reading each other's breathing with terrifying precision.
'He's improved again.'
Rem saw that the sword Encrid thrust out was as fast as his own axe.
Clang!
Metal clashed, sending a shower of sparks flying. Dozens of lines of attack sought to rend flesh, but all were deflected. Encrid moved through cold calculation, while Rem swung his axe and shifted his weight according to raw instinct.
Unable to hold back, Rem immediately channeled sorcery into his body through Descent and spun. It was a level of power that would leave a heavy strain on his body afterward. Encrid matched him, vigorously circulating Will throughout his frame with the Explosion of Lines.
Their fight was like a cart accelerating down a steep slope. To stop it, one would need someone capable of absorbing all that momentum. If it were a matter of helping one kill the other, it would be easy. But subduing both without causing injury would be difficult even for the Mercenary King, Anu.
Even if Ragna and Audin rushed in together, could they stop them without a single scratch? It would be no easy task.
Encrid immersed himself deeper into his own mind as he swung his sword.
'Faster.'
He narrowed the intervals of his thoughts even further, matching the instinctive intuition Rem displayed. Encrid's sword suddenly accelerated. It was a flash—no, it was lightning, a chained sequence of flashes.
Rem's axe moved to intercept the sword drawing white light. He became a typhoon, seeking to sever and swallow the lightning. The axe met the blade, tracing the optimal path.
Encrid took it one step further. In an instant, he gathered the Explosion of Lines and condensed it into a Point Explosion.
At the end of the exchange, Penna—rising with the left foot as the pivot—drew a line in the air. Rem's arm was caught in its path.
Slash.
Encrid severed Rem's right arm. Rem heard the sound of tearing flesh ring in his ears. Because he had slammed his axe down at the same time, he managed to strike Encrid's shoulder, but he couldn't cut through. It would only leave a moderately deep wound.
Thus, Rem knew. If time continued to pass like this, he would be the one to lose.
'I lost.'
That was Rem's inner thought. If the fight continued, it was only natural for the one who lost an arm to fall. It wasn't just the limb; the loss of weight would cause a sensory disharmony, requiring time to adjust to a new center of gravity. Against a knight of Encrid's caliber, that delay was fatal.
'Still, he wouldn't go down easily.'
Encrid also murmured to himself, narrowing his eyes. He acknowledged that even with a lost arm, the warrior named Rem was no pushover. He could easily imagine a berserker swinging an axe with his remaining limb—a life-or-death struggle where the man would give up his flesh to strike flesh and sacrifice his bones to crush bones.
He could see it clearly. And there was no need to fight to that extent.
The fight ended there.
"...What did you do?"
The sweat clinging to the tip of Rem's chin dripped onto the stone.
"Fun, isn't it?" Encrid asked.
Rem replied as he rotated his right arm in a circle. It had all been an illusion. To be more precise, because they knew each other's skills so well, they had fought within a virtual domain.
"It is fun."
"I heard that in the Empire, they learn the Manifestation of Intimidation as a basic skill. So I thought something like this might be possible."
When he first saw the Head of House Zaun, the man's greatsword looked ready to cut someone down at any moment without moving. It was the Manifestation of Intimidation. If he controlled it with more precision, it was possible to contest within a virtual domain.
This meant they could fight violently without actually drawing blood, realizing a deeper, denser, and more dangerous form of sparring. Since their levels had grown so high that a real duel would result in serious injury, this was the method he had devised.
Encrid didn't want to learn some superficial sparring swordsmanship. While training was good...
'There is no training as good as real combat.'
This was a truth he had realized while teaching those struggling to survive in a small village. In the end, what Encrid and Rem had done was fight through the momentum they projected, merely twitching their fingers and shifting their feet. It was an acrobatic feat only possible if both possessed outstanding insight and a precise grasp of their own state.
"The servant of the Lord awaits his turn."
"You've created something truly interesting."
Audin and Ragna chimed in one after another. Sinar also raised her momentum, showing her willingness to step forward. Sachsen uncrossed his arms and spoke.
"If it's this way, I can show you something interesting too."
Contesting in the virtual domain, then exchanging a few blows in reality—if this process itself wasn't enjoyable, what else in the world could be? Moving his body was joyful. Swinging a sword was even more fun. Every time he faced an attack that defied common sense, Encrid was flooded with ecstasy.
Before he knew it, the nightmare from the previous night was completely forgotten.
Sinar showed him a summer storm, quite different from her usual winter breeze. Audin demonstrated how powerful his trained body could be by tightening and bursting his physical frame with Will. Once caught in his grip, victory was nearly impossible; Audin's hands, which bent and broke joints, seemed capable of crushing anything.
Ragna casually showed his sword and said, "The sword's name is Sunrise. It has the alias of the rising sun. If it touches you, you burn."
It was an imprinted weapon, created by forcing his Will into a blade passed down through his family. Though it wasn't a newly forged sword, Ragna felt it was a weapon prepared just for him. The blade held intense heat; even a mere brush against a sleeve sparked flames.
Sparring lightly in reality rather than just the virtual domain allowed Encrid to feel the power of Sunrise even more clearly. It was said it could emit heat so intense that sweat would vaporize before it could fall. Sunrise, the rising sun—it wasn't named that for nothing.
With Sachsen, it was a battle of a single strike. His previous Mu-sal Thrust had been a stab that erased all killing intent. What he showed this time was different. He stabbed without regard for his own safety, willing to throw away an arm to take his opponent's life.
"Try and block it," Sachsen spoke with a satisfied smile.
Encrid wasn't the only one bathed in ecstasy. After all, the Order of Madness was a gathering place for exactly these kinds of bastards.
"It is fun, though," Rem's words spoke for all of them.
It was a time of returning to the Border Guard and leading their daily lives. Though he forgot the nightmares while sweating, that night—and the next—the Ferryman redoubled his efforts.
"My child has become fatherless."
It was Ayul, Rem's wife. In her arms, she held a newborn baby. It was Rem and Ayul's child.
"Is this right?" she asked. She was asking if a choice where Rem died was the only option—if this was truly the best he could do.
The Ferryman's nightmares were a series. After loss came resentment.
"My son has died."
Next, the Ragged Saint appeared, looking at Encrid with indifferent, hollow eyes. Leona, who had lost her merchant guild, sat slumped, murmuring that this wasn't what she had wanted.
"It is not over yet," the Ferryman whispered.
Following loss and resentment, he presented his third work. The theme of the third nightmare was despair.
Encrid had a long dream. He lived for more than ten years in that vision. In the end, the Border Guard held out, and by helping Krang, Naurilia grew prosperous and strong. But one day, a pitch-black darkness enveloped the Border Guard. Monsters and demonic beasts filled the entire city. Contact with the outside world was severed. An inevitable catastrophe caused by the Demon Realm had arrived.
"Captain!"
Krais sought him out. It wasn't hard to read the emotion in his eyes.
"We're going to fight to the end, right?" he asked.
The spirit Encrid had shown had rubbed off on Krais. He was not consumed by anxiety or fear, but he knew the end was near.
"We're fighting until the very moment we die, right?"
Everyone accepted their fate. Krais spoke, and everyone gathered. Encrid and the others fought the darkness enveloping the Border Guard for a full year. Stored food ran out, and eventually, even the weeping for the dying ceased.
If you leave alone, you can live. Do you not know this? Leave. Go and live. Walk in search of a comfortable today.
Was it a dream within a dream? Within the despair, the Ferryman whispered his temptations. Encrid did not listen, yet enemies were still everywhere, and they could not be stopped. As he was trapped in a "today" where he died fighting monsters, the Ferryman spoke to him.
"Is this truly what you wished for?"
Loss, resentment, despair. The three pierced and tore at his chest, but they did not break him. In truth, he had already found the answers to the things the Ferryman showed him long ago.
'Waiting and hoping for someone else's help is a fool's errand.'
Furthermore, one cannot do anything alone. Encrid had already realized that truth.
As he shook off the nightmare and woke up, the Ferryman's final words echoed from the edge of his dream.
"You will not be consumed."
Encrid took that to mean the Ferryman had exerted himself for the first time in a long while. It was unavoidable that he had ultimately disappointed the entity, though.
When he woke up and went outside, someone had already come out before dawn. Pel stood with the tip of the Idol Slayer resting on the ground, his eyes showing a detached, cold look. His pupils did not waver, and his momentum was calm. He was like a quiet lake.
"Captain."
"Yeah."
"If I win, do I become the Knight Commander?"
Encrid recognized Pel's state at a glance. An idiot drunk on a sense of omnipotence had taken up his sword.
"Then I guess today is the day I take that spot."
Pel had become a much crazier bastard than when they first met. It was likely Rem's influence. The Order of Madness was a place where people who held onto their sanity like Encrid were rare.
Encrid picked up a blunt practice sword. Unsharpened, it was shaped perfectly to be used as a club.