Chapter 753: Hospitality
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 753: Hospitality
Roman naturally ended up joining the group.
"People actually live in the Demon Realm?" Encrid asked.
It was a shocking claim. Monsters and demonic beasts were creatures that existed only to slaughter humans. The Demon Realm was teeming with them, including unique variants that defied logic.
For humans to survive in such a land was a distant dream. Even the hermit village prioritized concealment above all else, utilizing their surroundings to the utmost just to endure. Yet this place was immediately visible to passing travelers?
"Yeah, I was surprised too," Roman replied nonchalantly.
He mentioned it hadn't even been ten days since he was caught by the parasitic beast. Calculating the time, that seemed about right. Audin had also subtly mentioned that if Roman's Will had wavered even slightly, he would never have woken up.
Of course, Audin had spoken loudly enough for everyone present to hear. It was half-compliment, but to Roman, it didn't sound like one.
"Fine, let's just say I'm an idiot."
Roman gave up, realizing it was impossible to convince them with either words or strength. Seeing Rem snicker at his words, it was obvious the barbarian was just trying to tease him.
Roman shifted the focus back to the strange village he had seen. It was an excellent attempt at changing the subject, and a successful one at that.
As they walked, Encrid considered Roman's words.
The continent was vast. How much of it was truly occupied by intelligent races? A scholar who once held a title akin to a sage had once said:
"In truth, this world might be surrounded by powerful entities beyond our knowledge."
The basis for this argument was the existence of the Demon Realm. The Great Demon Realm had been invaded before, but it had never fallen. Within it lived the Six Devils, entities humanity could not hope to match.
Furthermore, looking across the continent, there were simply too many monsters. And where there were monsters, there were demonic beasts. How many of those creatures had evolved into unique variants?
Even within the nation's territory, before the Safe Road was established around the Border Guard and up to the former Count Molsen's fief, monsters and bandits had run rampant.
‘And even those bandits would have died if they didn't band together to survive.’
Thus, the mere existence of such a village was nothing short of a mystery.
"You were caught by a parasitic beast and woke up. Is your memory intact?" the half-giant female warrior kept approaching and asking, her intentions unclear.
Roman nodded, replying that he was fine. Perhaps finding his bearings wasn't easy, as Roman groaned while searching for the path. Still, he seemed to have a good sense of direction, having come this far without a guide. Spotting a jagged, reddish-black mountain rising in the distance, he oriented himself.
Of course, whether it was truly the right way remained to be seen. Watching Roman, Encrid spoke up.
"Shall we have a spar?"
Looking at his gait, Roman's physical strength had not yet fully returned. His balance was subtly off, like someone who had stayed up for two nights straight. Still, as Rem had said, he was tough.
‘He's holding up well.’
His head must be spinning, and his breathing was likely labored. Although Audin had treated him with divine power, he had still been victimized by a parasitic beast. It would be stranger if he were in good condition.
‘But his fundamental skills haven't changed.’
Just because his condition was poor didn't mean his skill level would drop drastically. That was the standard expected of an Associate Knight. After all, one couldn't always fight in peak condition. It was their ability to display their skills even in such circumstances that earned them the title of Associate Knight.
"Now?" Roman asked. He didn't seem to dislike the idea.
Encrid drew his sword. Genesis, Sky, Dawn Forge. The sword, known by a mix of three names, shed a faint blue light.
"An imprinted weapon," Roman muttered.
The present was so different from the past he once knew. He had resolved to be the first to rise, but now he had been left behind. Dark, turbulent emotions threatened to surge within him. Roman gripped his sword and pointed the blade of his greatsword forward.
Though it lacked sharpness due to poor maintenance, a greatsword of this size was a deadly weapon even with a dull edge.
"What are you doing, stopping in the middle of the road?" Rem grumbled.
He was right. They weren't at a campsite; they had been walking since dawn. Still, he didn't say anything more. The others remained silent as well. Watching would be entertaining, and they seemed to understand why Encrid was doing this.
‘It really is quite mysterious.’
Though he grumbled out of habit, Rem's inner thoughts were different. This man, Encrid, had elevated Pel and Ropode to the rank of knight. Of course, those two possessed ample talent and an unyielding desire to improve. But if everyone with those qualities became a knight, there would be ten times more knights on the continent than there were now.
‘Even though their numbers have clearly increased compared to the past.’
They were still extremely rare. Thus, what Encrid did was nothing short of miraculous.
Ragna calmly observed the two, his hand resting on the hilt of Sunrise.
The swordsmanship of the man called Roman was riddled with bad habits. If they actually clashed, far more problems would be exposed than what was visible on the surface. These were things one could tell at a glance.
‘How are you going to fix those habits?’
It wouldn't be easy.
Luagarne watched with anticipation, while Sinar and Sachsen showed no interest. Pel, Ropode, and Teresa focused, believing that observing the exchange would be a valuable lesson.
Then, Roman's greatsword moved. It fell diagonally, tracing a graceful line.
‘Fast and strong, but he prepares too much for the next move.’
That was Pel's impression.
‘His speed of thought is slow.’
This was Ropode's impression. Encrid saw it similarly.
Well, then, what to do now?
He stepped forward with his left foot. Taking a stance, he swung his sword. The movement itself was the same as when he cut down monsters, but...
‘Force control.’
He had watched Sachsen remove the parasitic beast attached to Roman's head. It would be a lie to say he hadn't felt a thrill watching that swordplay.
‘The pinnacle of precision, transcending mere delicacy.’
After seeing it once, he had practiced it with hand gestures alone, and last night, he had trained it even in his dreams.
"Hey, are you listening to me?" the ferryman had called out several times, but Encrid had been completely captivated, utterly absorbed in Sachsen's swordplay. Now, after watching it, he could mimic it with just a few attempts. For Encrid, this entire process was immensely enjoyable.
Clang!
A Vortex—more precisely, a strike carrying a restricted rotation. It was a powerful blow delivered compactly, using the shoulder as an axis. Roman's sword was deflected backward in a single blow.
"Again. Let's do it while walking."
Encrid repeated the action. Roman had to swing his sword without receiving any actual instruction. He wished Encrid would say something, but there was nothing. Encrid simply deflected the blindly swung sword with a single strike every time.
Was he trying to show off? His expression was far too nonchalant for that. Even the onlookers had similar expressions.
Roman tried to read his intentions. There had to be a reason for this. Was this not a spar, but some form of harassment?
Then, Encrid smiled.
Hey, is this all? Just this?
At the same time, he heard a voice. It had to be an auditory hallucination, but the voice sounded so real it gouged at his heart.
By the time they had sparred about fifty times, Roman's shoulders and elbows ached. Frankly, there wasn't a single part of his body that didn't hurt. His head had been spinning ever since the parasitic beast attacked. Yet, along with Encrid's smile, the words Just this, just this, just this echoed repeatedly in his mind.
Grit.
Roman bit his tongue.
Fine, I know you're amazing, but the time I've spent isn't nothing either. I, too, have ground my bones and risked my life to train.
To serve Knight Oara and keep her words.
Malice coalesced. Blood welled up from his bitten tongue. The pain jolted his entire body awake. Roman's eyes became bloodshot.
‘In a single strike.’
Pivoting on his left foot, he drew upon the swordplay he had trained so hard in the past. It was the method he used to mimic a knight's strike. It was also something that had become part of Encrid's experience when he created Vortex.
To swing a sword like a knight at the level of an Associate Knight, one had to tighten and release the muscles of the entire body, pouring one's entire being into the Will. Once, Roman had been the one to teach this.
‘Hit him.’
A desperate wish guided his Will. Roman swung his sword. It felt as though a dam blocking his chest had burst. Feeling a sense of relief and liberation, he swung his sword with all his might for the first time in a very long while.
Boom!
Tearing through the air, Roman's sword plunged down, and Encrid deflected it using the Sword of Chance.
Ting, drrrr, thud.
Roman's greatsword failed to achieve its purpose. The tip of the blade struck the ground, completely devoid of strength. The sound was incredibly faint. It ended with a soft thud.
Then, with a sharp crack, a fissure ran down the middle of the greatsword, and the blade split apart.
"Blegh!"
Roman coughed up blood. It was pitch-black.
"Here."
Before anyone knew it, Audin approached and placed his hand on Roman's back, with Teresa standing close behind him.
This was the process of erasing the traces of the monster left by the parasitic beast. Ripping the creature off and waking up wasn't the end of it. The energy wielded by monsters—demonic energy—had remained in Roman's body. That was what had mixed with the black blood he just coughed up.
If they had tried to heal him with divine power right away, the clashing energies would have left him a mindless husk. But now, the timing was perfect. Audin turned his gaze toward Encrid.
"Did you intend this?"
"Halfway."
It had to be said that they were lucky. Roman raised his head, which had been bowed as he coughed. He knew better than anyone what this meant.
At the same time, he understood the meaning behind Encrid's question:
"You saw it, right?"
Roman had taken a wrong turn during his training. He had engraved Knight Oara's swordsmanship—the smoothly connecting sword—into his own body. It was a style that traced graceful lines rather than deciding a match in a single blow. Thanks to that, the man who used to mimic a knight's downward strike had built solid basics.
In Encrid's eyes, Roman had drawn a proper circle, but was that the right path for him? Roman was born with a sturdy body. His disposition leaned toward putting power into a single strike.
‘Will is influenced by one's disposition.’
This was what his experience had taught him.
Ropode had lived a life putting others before himself. He had spent a period observing and thinking alone. That time hadn't been painful because it suited his nature.
Pel was the opposite. He would break out of the mold of a shepherd to chase after what he wanted.
Will is volition; it is influenced by one's disposition. If one goes against it, the path to becoming a knight becomes a distant dream.
"My thanks," Roman said. And then he lost consciousness again.
"We've got more baggage," Rem said.
"What was that earlier?" Encrid asked back.
Rem smirked. "Wasn't it the exact moment it was needed?"
The words Is this all? Just this? that Roman had heard were not an auditory hallucination. Rem had used sorcery to play a trick and whisper them into his ear.
"You're quite resourceful," Encrid said, inwardly impressed. Whispering into Roman's ear was one thing, but the skill to read Roman's state and manipulate it was far more astonishing.
"Don't mention it," Rem said with a smirk, and Ragna nodded.
"You certainly excel at useless tricks."
Was this a compliment or a provocation?
"...Did you eat something bad?"
After their usual bickering, the two fought once in the realm of the mindscape, and then actually clashed sword and axe.
Before they knew it, dawn had broken, and the weather was beautifully clear. Teresa carried Roman on her back. Later, when Roman woke up in the afternoon, he said, "My mind feels clearer."
"Is that so?"
They didn't spar anymore. Luagarne puffed out her cheeks and clung tightly to Encrid's side.
"I'm curious how you acquired the talent for teaching."
Encrid conversed with her to satisfy the curious Frog Kin's desire, while Roman guided them to the village he had seen.
The first impression was perhaps more intense than any place they had seen before.
"Should we just smash everything and kill them all?" Rem asked, caught up in the mood.
Ragna rested his hand on Sunrise. Encrid looked at the sculpture erected right in the center of the village, completely unconcealed. Atop a long pole sat a pitch-black painted circle. It was shaped like a black sun—a Black Sun—one of the symbols of the cultists. It was practically no different from loudly proclaiming that they worshipped the Demon God.
"Didn't you say it was a village?" Sinar was an elf. She was sensitive to the energy emitted by monsters. After all, elves could not display their true abilities in places devoid of the forest's essence.
"It is a village. Though they live in a rather peculiar way," Roman replied.
Once they stepped inside, it was indeed far from ordinary. People could be seen walking to and fro. Though their attire resembled that of slum dwellers, none of them looked as if they were being forced to live there.
One of them blinked and approached. The greatest difference between Encrid's group and the person before them was their skin color. Neither black nor white, their skin had a faint purplish hue.
"You returned alive," the man who approached said, looking at Roman before scanning the rest of the group. "And you've brought plenty of guests."
He gestured behind him. The village welcomed the guests who had arrived after a long time. It felt awkward—and for good reason. This was hospitality from a village that worshipped the Demon God.