Chapter 756: A Madman of a Different Caliber
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 756: A Madman of a Different Caliber
The Minotaur was a mountain of flesh, its sheer size bolstered by a crushing, intangible pressure.
Most of the Demon Realm’s inhabitants fell to their knees where they stood, chanting the Demon God’s epithet like a mantra: "Black Sun, Black Sun."
Yet, strangely, the human—who was barely half the size of the bull-headed monster—seemed every bit as imposing in their eyes. No, perhaps he loomed even larger than the beast itself.
At a glance, it looked as though he would be swept away at any moment, his body broken and his guts spilled across the dirt. But that was not the case.
Clang!
A deafening roar of metal on metal echoed through the air. The shriek of the collision erupted into a shockwave that rippled outward, kicking up dust.
Encrid knew the truth the moment they exchanged that single blow.
He’s at the level of a Knight.
Why could humanity not eradicate the Demon Realm? The answer was glaringly obvious: a lack of raw power. The realm teemed with monsters that humans could not withstand, even after awakening their Will.
The twin-sword-wielding Minotaur was one of those very beasts.
After the brief clash, the monster and the human recoiled to create distance. The bipedal bull retreated a step, drawing its right hoof back. Encrid held his sword diagonally, shielding his face.
It was a brief, tense standoff. Everyone watching knew they would clash again in the blink of an eye.
The sunlight waned over the violet-stained earth. As the sun sank behind the mountain ridge, darkness prepared to swallow the land. A damp, cloying warmth enveloped the area, as if they had been standing in the middle of a swamp all day. The humidity was stifling. It was summer, and because this was the Demon Realm Borderlands, the air felt unnaturally heavy and oppressive.
"...Do we not need to help him?" Roman asked from behind.
Just looking at the monster gave him goosebumps; the hair on his arms stood on end. This entity felt far superior to the monsters of the Gray Forest they had faced in the City of Oara—it even felt more dangerous than Ghoul Xerxes.
Roman felt as though a single roar from that beast would freeze his blood and rob him of his movement. If it had been him standing there, he would have died the moment their blades crossed. It was an undeniable fact that required no second thought.
It’s a monster.
They had to help him immediately. He shouldn't be left to face it alone. Those were the thoughts that prompted his question, but...
"Leave him be. Interfering will only get in his way," Rem said, his eyes never leaving the combatants.
The others were the same.
The Paladin wielding divine power. The swordsman with the terrifying aura. The one whose presence was so faint it was hard to detect. The elf and the rest of the group simply watched.
Roman quickly realized that the emotion in their eyes was neither worry nor concern.
Why?
Frok, standing right next to him, puffed up his cheeks. It was a sign of anticipation, amusement, and ecstasy, though it was difficult for Roman to read a Frok’s expression. He had no Frok companions or friends; they were a rare race that seldom moved at the behest of others.
Elves were also a mystery to Roman, as they were rarely seen in the City of Oara. The elf woman seemed just as fascinating. As far as Roman knew, elves were notorious for their stoicism, yet a sliver of emotion was visible in her eyes. Without a doubt, it was anticipation.
The same went for Pel and Ropode. Though their palms weren't sweating, the way they clenched their fists or shifted their feet made it seem as if they were projecting themselves into the fight.
Defeat is not an option. Their posture spoke volumes.
If things went south, any one of them would step in. They were fully prepared to intervene if Encrid fell into danger. Yet, what lay deeper within them—even beyond the readiness to help?
It was the burning anticipation for what the man before them would show them next.
That atmosphere naturally seeped into Roman as well.
Just what has he done?
Becoming a Knight was surprising enough, but to command such unwavering trust from these powerful individuals?
Is this also something I should learn from him?
Knight Oara had always shown him her back. Until the very moment of her death, she had demonstrated the weight of her life and the values she protected. She had never once broken her knightly oath. She had departed with a smile.
He remembered Oara’s final battle—the moment she burned away her very life force against the Fragment of Balrog. The Encrid before him now overlapped with that memory.
"Oara..." Roman muttered.
Encrid’s Dawn Forge and the Minotaur’s blade clashed once more.
Boom!
A thunderous roar erupted, sounding like a landslide of massive boulders. Dust billowed from the ground, scattering violet soil in all directions. In Roman’s eyes, Encrid’s sword seemed to tremble.
That trembling soon created a shimmer, drawing out intangible Will and infusing it into the steel. In the heart of the Demon Realm, where the moonlight had yet to reach, light scattered along the blade. It exploded, burst, and painted a masterpiece using the darkness as a canvas.
Even though he couldn't follow the full trajectory of the sword, Roman felt overwhelmed with emotion.
*
I could die at any moment.
Seeing the skill of this bovine swordsman made that phrase echo vividly in my mind. It was something I had heard even before becoming a Knight: If you resolve to live by the sword, never forget that you can die by a stray blade.
Moo—!
The bull let out a sharp, guttural bellow. Even that roar was an attack—a wild, murderous intent designed to constrict the opponent's body.
I ignored the shout with my boiling Will. The bull twisted its waist and swung its arm simultaneously with its cry. The incoming blade carried a heavy, swift strike—the kind of intense, rapid swordsmanship Ragna always used against me.
Having already calculated the move, I blocked it with Dawn Forge using Wave Shield and spun my body. Pivoting on my left foot, I rotated my waist, deflecting the force of the blade. Using the momentum transferred to my sword, my body slid to the side.
As the blades met, a light, rapid sound echoed.
T-t-t-ting.
Wave Shield was the perfect partner for the Sword of Chance. No, in truth, all swordsmanship styles were bound to complement one another in some way. I had reached that conclusion long ago.
The bull held two swords. The moment its first strike was blocked by Dawn Forge, it swung its second. Even with a Knight’s dynamic visual acuity, enhanced by Will, the bull’s second blade appeared as a blur.
That blurry blade sliced through the space where I had stood just a moment ago. If I hadn't slid to the side while blocking the first attack, parrying it would have been nearly impossible.
The afterimages splitting along the path of the swung sword remained vivid in my eyes. It felt as if I had stepped into a watercolor painting where the ink was bleeding into the paper. The delicate, precise lines were all blurred, smudged, and scattered.
I swung my sword, becoming a blurred line myself. At the same time, my thoughts split. My divided consciousness looked back on my past life.
Do not let your guard down. Do not lose focus. Mobilize your attention. Do not let your body stiffen. Use everything to win. Neither body nor mind must be rigid. Cultivate flexibility. Conscious actions are stiff; unconscious actions are fluid. Repeat and repeat until it becomes second nature. Never forget that today’s training makes who you are tomorrow.
Everything I had learned up to this point swirled in my mind. In an instant, I knew what I was capable of. It was what Oara had shown me, and what Ragna had demonstrated. It was also something I had achieved once before.
Light gathered on the blade. Intangible power was molded into a tangible form.
I struck the bull’s incoming blade using the trick of Vortex. Pivoting on my left foot, my waist twisted, and a waterspout of light erupted, splitting the bull’s head. Holding my breath, I pulled back Dawn Forge—which I had swung upward—with the same violent force as the upswing.
Crrraaaack.
Caught on the blade, the monster’s thick neck bone was dragged by the force, tearing through muscle and skin.
Thud.
Resisting the pulling force, one of the monster’s knees hit the ground first. I stepped back and flicked my sword. Black blood splattered onto the ground. Having lost its head, cervical vertebrae, and part of its spine, the monster swayed like a pendulum before collapsing.
Thud—
The massive carcass made a heavy din as it fell, shattering the silence. Black blood gushed from its split head and torn flesh.
I looked down at the corpse indifferently and thought: If the applied techniques of Will can be systematized, I will be able to teach them. They will be easier to learn.
I began to organize what I had realized while dissecting my thoughts.
Bringing the unconscious Will back into conscious awareness is the start.
Ultimately, the goal is to manifest the Will into a tangible form, projecting it outside the weapon or body. Just as I had done just now.
Though simply being good at controlling Will isn't enough.
Without foundational swordsmanship and years of rigorous training, this path is unreachable. One must never neglect proper techniques and physical conditioning. In the first place, without this level of effort, manifesting Will is nothing but a pipe dream.
I had been a slow learner—a dullard who had to verify every single path, knocking on every door to ascend. Yet, that very lack of talent had brought me something new: Contemplation through observation. And with it, the knowledge to systematize new concepts.
It was a fight that was neither long nor short.
Luagarne went beyond mere excitement; she spread her four fingers and placed them over her breastplate. Her Frok traits throbbed and churned wildly.
Croooak.
Her cheeks puffed up of their own accord, releasing the deep emotion she felt.
Pel unconsciously drew Idol Slayer halfway from its sheath. I want to fight. If anyone asked why, he would ask in return if there even needed to be a reason. He simply wanted to clash. He was filled with the desire to pit his own sword against whatever Encrid had just shown.
"Cut it out. It's a long way before your turn comes."
Pel felt the presence of the barbarian who had stood behind him at some point. Rough and ferocious—it felt like sticking his head into a lion’s mouth. Such was the barbarian’s momentum.
"O Lord Father..."
From the back of Audin, who was quietly murmuring a prayer, a faint silhouette could be seen. His divine power was boiling over, taking shape. Pel wasn't the only one whose desires were surging.
Ragna, holding Sunrise, asked, "Can you use it at will?"
It wasn't a probing question, but a confirming one. He was asking about the manifestation of Will.
"Yes," Encrid replied simply, beginning to wipe the blade of Dawn Forge.
Sinar approached his side. "You're incomparable to when I first saw you." Her voice, too, was laced with admiration.
"Someday..." Ropode muttered. While Pel was swept up in desire, Ropode realized that he was currently no match for Encrid. Even so, he would not be consumed by frustration.
Most of the people here knew the path Encrid had trodden. They knew his journey began at the lowest rank of the soldier grading system. The path he had walked was, by any standard, a thorny one.
Encrid had exerted himself fully. He had broken a decent sweat. Looking around with a clear mind, he saw the corrupted inhabitants staring with wide, startled eyes.
The Ferryman had asked: Whether protecting them was truly the right thing to do, or if he would slaughter them all.
These were people slowly transforming under the demon’s sphere of influence. However, the transformation wasn't complete. If they were freed from the demon’s influence, perhaps their violet skin would return to normal.
If it was a matter of curing those who had become corrupted...
Anne would absolutely love this.
Her dream was to create an Elixir that would eradicate every disease in the world. Whenever she saw a new illness, her eyes blazed with passion. Watching her, one couldn't help but think that Anne, too, deserved to be called a madwoman.
Furthermore, Encrid did not expect repentance from them. He believed that those bound to this place due to the choices of their ancestors could not be held guilty.
Various thoughts flashed through his mind, but only one remained clear.
Can I save them?
He was simply trying to answer that question. He wouldn't fall into despair even if he failed; he would just try whatever he could. An attempt that could be called a desperate struggle against fate—that was what he would do.
At a crossroads where only two paths were forced upon him, Encrid chose a third.
He walked steadily toward the center of the village. There, a symbol shaped like the Black Sun stood prominently. Everyone’s eyes turned to him. He was the man who had just slain the Demon God’s cleaner. No one could say a word, nor could they step forward to block him. They only stared in sheer shock.
Encrid gazed indifferently at the symbol of the Demon God.
If their minds and bodies are changing because of the entity they worship... then shouldn't we just change that underlying condition?
With a swift whoosh, Dawn Forge sliced through the symbol of the Demon God. The round wooden board depicting the Black Sun fell to the ground. After all, this was merely a carving.
"Ah..."
A few startled villagers let out cries akin to screams, but they could not undo what had been done. Encrid had severed the symbol of the Demon God.
"Audin, let's deal with the buried artifact."
"...As you wish."
Next, they would burn away the artifact planted by the demon using divine power. Now, this village was cast into jeopardy. Confronted with this terrifying reality, the inhabitants of the Demon Realm stared at Encrid with dumbfounded expressions.
"What are you planning?" Pel asked casually. The consequences of cutting that down were obvious, and he wondered if Encrid was using the monsters to do his dirty work because he felt uncomfortable killing the villagers himself.
The Shepherd of the Wilderness was a group that loathed monsters. Scheming by utilizing them? If that was his intention, Pel would leave immediately. A group that used monsters to kill people was unacceptable.
And then, Encrid uttered words that no one could have anticipated.
"From now on, this land is mine. I shall claim this place as Border Guard territory."
He meant to change the entity providing protection. If worshiping the Demon God was the problem, then he would simply become the symbol of this land himself.
Indeed, this was something no ordinary human could ever conceive.
Rem tilted his head. Although he had grown accustomed to Encrid’s antics, this was on an entirely different scale.
"Hmm, so... worship the Captain instead of the Demon God?" Rem muttered.
Encrid blinked. Did he really have to interpret it that way?
"That wasn't my intention..."
He tried to clarify, but Audin’s voice rang out, enveloping the surroundings.
"May the Lord protect us." He respected the will of the leader who guided him, speaking with a serene smile. "Since you shall become the center of this place instead of the Lord Father."
No, I didn't mean it to that extent.
Encrid couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. All the panicked villagers were staring at him. Hundreds of eyes were locked onto his.
Ragna didn't care. Whether these people lived or died was of no concern to him. To him, what Encrid had shown moments ago was far more important.
The representative of the villagers trembled violently, horrified by the severed symbol. But the deed was done. The symbol of the Demon God had been cut down, and the cleaner was dead.
Zoraslav knelt and bowed his head. It was a move for survival.
If Krais had seen this, he would have demanded to know what on earth Encrid was thinking. If Krang had seen it, he would have shaken his head in disbelief—or perhaps offered to hand over his own throne if Encrid wanted to play king so badly.
In any case, Encrid completely ignored the Ferryman’s intentions and declared himself the ruler of this village. The core truth remained unchanged: If protecting them was the problem, then he would simply eliminate the problem.
"Indeed, my fiancé is a madman of a different caliber."
Sinar’s admiration was precisely what everyone else was thinking.