Chapter 757: Not an Iron Wall, but Salvation
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 757: Not an Iron Wall, but Salvation
Confusion, anxiety, and chaos—all tangled into a single, suffocating knot. Some of the residents had even begun to see hallucinations.
"I will come for you myself."
It was the call of the Demon God.
It was a time when men should have wept and despaired. However, humans were creatures easily swept up in the atmosphere. Throughout history, it was said that a single extraordinary individual could shift the mood of an entire crowd. Such was the hero who ignited fighting spirit on the front lines of a battlefield, or the orator whose passionate speech swayed the masses.
Right now, the nonchalance of the madmen was doing exactly that. The atmosphere was far from despairing. Even though the coming future was incredibly bleak, it felt as if no such tragedy would ever occur.
Why? Because of the sheer indifference reflected in the eyes of those men.
None of the residents dared to step forward; they simply stood by as dumbfounded onlookers. Among them, a few young children began to mumble a song—an old, orally transmitted tune with lyrics about the end of the world and the end of war.
* * *
"I need to train. Train."
Pel muttered to himself, swinging his sword. The madman who had been asleep for a while—the one who constantly babbled about training—had finally awakened from his comatose state.
"Woooah!"
He even let out a battle cry all by himself. He certainly didn't look sane, but he was perfectly composed. Pel's state of mind was simple and clear: monsters were enemies, and these people were targets to protect. That was enough to satisfy him.
With a sharp gleam in his eyes, Pel raised the Idol Slayer and began to dance with it in a corner.
"Making quite a fuss. You're Roman, right? Come over here for a second."
Ropode felt his confidence waver slightly as he watched Encrid's swordplay and the madness unfolding before him. His specialty was observing and assessing his own condition from an objective standpoint. Staring his current state in the face, Ropode found his answer.
What I need right now is the experience of winning.
Hunting down nearby monsters would be one way, but sparring with Roman, who also needed the practice, would yield a similar result. In truth, what he yearned for even more than victory was the sense of accomplishment that came from being useful to someone.
"How do you intend to reach the stage where you can pour your full power into a single strike?" Ropode asked, gently coaxing Roman.
Roman blinked, then walked over. His expression was filled with doubt, as if asking, We're really going to casually swing swords here? But he, too, was swept up in the atmosphere.
Ropode simplified his thoughts. Encrid would find his own answers for what he had done. Therefore, Ropode would focus on what he could do right now: maintain peak condition. This meant keeping both his body and mind in top shape.
Facing Roman, Ropode narrowed his focus. Having fought Pel countless times, he knew the man's strengths and weaknesses. He also knew the common traits of those who tended to bet everything on a single strike. Furthermore, he had accumulated plenty of secrets and tricks while training the unit known as Encrid's personal guard.
He just had to utilize all of it. To settle a fight in a single blow, one had to know how to build the process leading up to it.
Hadn't Encrid said that what Roman needed was a grueling process?
To put it simply, he needs to suffer enough to put his life on the line.
Ropode was more than willing to provide that experience.
*
Although some residents were terrified when they saw Encrid slice the symbol, none fainted from shock. Those with quick wits accepted the changed situation immediately. Their shift in attitude was incredibly swift.
In truth, they had no other choice. What else could they do but bow their heads? The Demon God's cleaner was dead, and while the devil’s reach was still distant, this swordsman stood right before them. If he so much as flicked his wrist, it would be a massacre.
Realizing this simple fact, their survival instincts kicked in. They bowed their heads and revered Encrid.
"Ohhh..."
Of course, they might have had their own reasons beyond that.
Rem watched this, letting out a smirk. "They change their tune faster than a three-day-starved velopter snapping up rat meat."
It was said that velopters were so obsessed with rat meat that it was hard to spot a single rat in the West. Perhaps it was also due to the copycats—monsters that frequently appeared in the West. Cats easily ate rats—or rather, there weren't enough rats to go around.
"Sparring?"
Ragna approached Encrid, who had just finished his battle. Seeing this, Rem furrowed his brow. What was this lazy lunatic talking about?
"Are you out of your mind?"
This was a level of anger Rem rarely showed. It was as if he had heard an insult directed at his parents. Westerners were notoriously prickly about insults to their kin. Rem drew his axe without hesitation, voicing the reason for his rage.
Encrid thought Ragna had insulted Rem as he approached, but that wasn't the case.
"I'm sparring with him first."
...Was that really something to get this angry about?
"Brother, the Lord did not tell us to endure injustice. Why must you always step forward first?" Audin chimed in.
"He is my fiancé. Naturally, I go first," Sinar added.
But Sinar couldn't unleash her full power here. In a place lacking vital energy, an elf could not use their strength properly. That was why, ever since they arrived, Sinar had been constantly teasing Encrid, saying she felt dizzy and that she would feel better if they hugged for a night. The basis of her jokes was her current state, which was much weaker than usual.
"Do you even know how to imbue it?" Ragna asked them all.
Could they imbue their swords with Will? Could they make their blades glow? If they couldn't do that, how could they even call it a spar? In other words, Ragna was telling the weaklings to back off because they were about to have a high-level duel.
"Hey, you just insulted Western sorcery."
Rem maintained his anger. His manifested rage began to take physical shape—his own unique way of using Intimidation. Defying the moonlight, Rem's shadow grew larger, then attempted to stand up entirely. If they fought now, it felt as though that shadow would swing an axe as well.
"The Lord said there is nothing that cannot be achieved through divine power," Audin interjected again.
Meanwhile, Encrid detected a sneak attack aimed at his back. It felt as if someone were shaking a willow branch five paces away, yet his sixth sense caught the vibration instantly. His senses had been honed to a razor's edge from the battle just moments ago. Encrid's body reacted on instinct.
Clang!
As he spun around and raised Dawn Forge, a thrusting dagger blade clashed against it. It was Sachsen's strike. The moment sparks flew, Sachsen retreated more than three paces and stared blankly at Encrid. In terms of striking and retreating, his footwork was faster than Rem's.
"You wildcat bastard!" Rem's anger flared, but Sachsen ignored him.
"I'm good," Sachsen said.
With that single strike, he had gauged Encrid's reaction speed and heightened sensitivity. That was enough for him.
It's going to be hard to take his back now.
A simple sneak attack wouldn't work. That was certain.
Then?
Whoosh.
Sachsen dodged a flying hand axe as he organized his thoughts.
I'll have to pull out everything I've got, too.
Only then would he be able to face him. And even then, only after securing an advantageous position. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to kill him. This was the assessment of the Dagger of Geor, the legendary head of the continent's assassin guild. It meant that killing Encrid through assassination was now out of the question.
"Enough."
For the first time in a long while, Encrid placated them and called Rem forward first. He was suggesting they lightly test each other's moves—a spar.
"As expected."
Rem nodded, drawing his axe. An unusually thick, black smoke seemed to gather around the weapon. Encrid had consumed his Will to kill the sword-wielding bullhead earlier, but his unyielding Will and his body, tempered by the Isolation Technique, were not so fragile as to complain about this level of exertion.
"Muscles are indeed beautiful," Audin remarked, seeing right through it.
Teresa quietly took in the entire scene, along with the people standing beside her.
Should I call this lighthearted?
Or perhaps unrestrained.
The moment she saw those who deserved to be called the Eroded, veins bulged on the back of Teresa's hands. Her grip tightened instinctively. She wanted to swing her greatsword right this instant, to cleave and crush them. It was unsettling and unpleasant—a discomfort like thousands of ants crawling over her body. She felt she must tear them apart and purify this land.
Teresa heard the call of her entire body. But then, a hand grabbed her arm. It was large, warm, and capable of radiating a white light if desired.
"Will you kill everyone just because the Lord tells you to? The Lord's will is righteous, but we who receive it are imperfect."
Audin reminded her of the teachings he always shared. The half-giant took three shallow, long breaths, exhaled, and then nodded. Sending them to the side of God might be offering them a resting place, but they surely had their own wishes as well.
In any case, Teresa had reached a conclusion. Or rather, she had already reached one before.
They cannot be saved.
There was no salvation. She believed so because there was no way.
"Admirable, truly admirable!"
Beside her, Luagarne kept exclaiming. Indeed, a madman of a different caliber possessed a different perspective. His train of thought was on a completely different track.
Teresa had watched Encrid slice the symbol and Audin detonate the buried artifact with divine power.
Protect them, no matter what.
And save them, no matter what.
Perhaps the title 'Salvation' suits him better than 'The Iron Wall.'
Until just moments ago, leaving them be felt like a violation of the Lord's teachings, but now it felt different. The God of War she revered brought peace to her heart.
O Lord.
Teresa bowed her head in prayer. In truth, how they would protect this place was none of her business. That was for the one who started this mess to figure out. Would he summon someone like Krais here? But would that Big-Eyes even come if called? No matter how extraordinary Encrid was, that Big-Eyes wouldn't willingly enter the Demon Realm.
Then how?
Such questions briefly crossed her mind, but again, it was none of Teresa's concern. Teresa wasn't the only one aware of the realistic problems. Rem also recognized the issue, and though he knew how difficult a realistic solution would be, he chose to ignore it.
Even now, after the symbol had been sliced, couldn't they feel the presence of nearby monsters and demonic beasts? Thinking about it, it was only natural.
How mouthwatering must this place have looked all this time?
It was like throwing a freshly caught rat to a velopter and telling it not to eat. Of course, a well-trained velopter would endure. It would hold back and resist. But what if the master said it was okay to eat now?
A velopter wouldn't be a velopter if it didn't pounce.
It was pure instinct.
Rem organized his thoughts and lowered his axe. They were in the middle of a spar. If they got any more serious than this, one of them would be gravely injured. The black soot clinging to his axe faded, rising like smoke before vanishing.
"What was that?" Encrid asked.
It was a technique similar to Will, yet different. It was on a completely different path from condensing Will and imbuing it into a sword. It wasn't in the realm of martial arts or physical skill, but something achieved purely through a talent for handling sorcery.
"Possession."
It was a technique one wouldn't even dare to use unless wielding a decent weapon. It allowed one to harbor sorcery power within the axe and manifest it outwardly. It wasn't something easily used; there were dozens of hurdles to overcome to reach this level.
Rem stared blankly at Encrid. There was nothing to ask. The trick to condensing Will like earlier? He didn't need it. Besides, he had already watched and learned everything else, so there was nothing left to ask.
Handling weaponry and handling sorcery are two different things.
To reach the concept called a knight here, or a hero in the West, one had to master both. Physical training and sorcery training were separate, yet connected. The probability of being outstanding in both?
Low. Far too low.
That was why, without talent, one couldn't even dream of reaching this level.
But I know how to teach it now.
This was purely close to copying the system Encrid had built up.
"Well, uh... thanks for the lesson," Rem said reluctantly.
Encrid blinked a couple of times and replied, "Where did Rem go? What kind of evil spirit are you?"
"...You bastard."
Why did this guy have to act like this when someone was actually thanking him?
"Shall I purify him?" Audin reacted. It must be the moment his divine power was needed.
"Has he been possessed by an evil spirit?" Teresa added. Sachsen had already drawn his dagger, looking ready to throw it.
"The sunrise burns away all things," Ragna chimed in, making Rem burst into a laugh.
"You son of a—"
The curse was never finished.
"Time to work, Rem," Encrid cut him off. He had teased him enough.
The gates to the high-quality food storage, which had been protected by the fence, were now wide open. It was time for monsters and demonic beasts to swarm from all directions. Now, they could even be seen. They could be heard, too.