Chapter 832: Analyzing the Pattern
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 832: Analyzing the Pattern
A faint yellow glow gathered on the dragonkin's white longsword. Though there was not a breath of wind, his lemon-colored hair, seemingly imbued with its own light, fluttered.
He swung his sword, cleaving a flame monster larger than his own body.
Fwoosh.
The split flames instantly transformed into snakes and lunged at him. The dragonkin uttered a Word of Power.
“Disappear.”
At that single word, the two fire snakes dissolved. They had been closer to him than the length of his longsword, yet the fire snakes that had penetrated his guard were pushed outward as if struck by an invisible hand. They crumbled into red dust, scattering like sand in the wind before vanishing entirely.
The source of the flames was an extension of will. He had pierced that will and snuffed it out.
However, since the opponent was not one that could be defeated by Words of Power alone, he mixed in sword strikes. This was the very swordsmanship that Temares had originally specialized in—a perfect harmony of Words of Power and martial skill.
As he fought, he recalled his techniques one by one. Just as Encrid had guessed, he was undergoing a sort of rehabilitation. Through this process, he was realizing just how formidable a combat race he was, born with the blood of the dragonkin.
And while he was taking down a single flame demonic beast—
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
“Bring out some more!”
The human, who was ceaselessly launching projectiles while forming two discs in his hands, beat down six flame heteromorphs.
“Haha, this won't be enough.”
The man who appeared to be a half-breed of a bear and a human unleashed divine power, repeatedly blasting away the Salamander's forepaws.
To the dragonkin's eyes, the true form of the Salamander was faintly visible. From his perspective, it looked as though the bear-kin named Audin was meeting the lunging paws of the flame phantom beast with his bare fists. Though the difference in their fist sizes was like that of an adult and a seven-year-old child, that child possessed unprecedented, monstrous strength.
Boom!
The phantom beast's forepaws exploded and scattered again and again. Sparks flew, and the fireballs hurtling through the air dispersed in all directions. Caught in the fireballs that burst with the explosions, burning stone fragments shot out like shrapnel.
It was a situation where anyone could have easily been severely injured, yet the group was perfectly fine. Not a single person had even a scratch. They all reacted as if this level of danger was trivial.
The dragonkin began to wonder if the continent's military power had risen exponentially during the time he had been bound by his duty.
* * *
Encrid had not forgotten Luagarne's teachings.
“In the future, you won't just encounter ordinary swordsmen. This is to prepare you for that.”
While Esther had taught him how to deal with spells, Luagarne had taken charge of the overall aspects of his personal tactics. Encrid had always remained focused, listening with utmost attentiveness. Even though subduing Frok would not have been difficult in terms of sheer martial power, he never stopped his race to learn.
‘There is something to learn from everyone.’
Ever since realizing his own lack of talent, Encrid had sought to absorb and learn everything he could. He had done so by spending the silver coins he earned at the risk of his life, and he had done so for his beliefs—to protect those standing behind him.
It wasn't easy. It truly wasn't easy. Even after being trapped repeating a single day for over a year all by himself, he couldn't surpass a genius's talent in a single bound. Before being trapped in the loop, it had been even worse.
Had he spent those times of hardship and suffering without thinking? Even an ordinary person wouldn't have. Much less Encrid, who was no fool and was actually quite sharp. He found what he needed to do from where he stood. He groped for a way forward, desperately craving it.
‘Can I catch up simply by swinging a sword?’
Effort alone would never be enough. That was reality. The blade of reality always grazed his neck sharply, aiming for his heart.
‘Reflect on every battle, replay it repeatedly. Make review my weapon.’
And so he did.
‘Even if they are feeble steps, let's move forward. Let's at least build physical strength. Let's not fall behind in stamina.’
And so he did.
Enduring all those days, he moved forward even if he had to crawl. Encrid realized that to properly review a battle after it ended, he had to observe it well. It was a lesson from before he had even joined the troublemaker squad. He had not forgotten.
“To fight properly is to see properly.”
What Luagarne said aligned with what he had learned back then. To see was not merely to confirm with one's eyes. It was to grasp the opponent's intention, to understand the process behind the result, and thereby thoroughly dissect what lay within.
This very attitude was likely the strength that had allowed Encrid to survive back when his skills were mediocre.
The attacks shown by the phantom beast, the Salamander, were not complex. Once the key points were grasped, they were simple. Encrid categorized the attack patterns accordingly.
‘Thermal Tongue.’
It could pop out from anywhere, and its speed was comparable to Rem's axe. However, it was slower than a bullet fired from a sling. Thus, there was no difficulty in dodging it.
‘Forepaw Fireballs.’
The dragonkin had called them paws. Encrid perceived them as such too. The fireballs, which lunged along thin lines extending from the flame clouds, could split into two or even four at the same time.
‘Not fast, but heavy.’
Beyond simply identifying the patterns, he read the properties contained within them. His eyes and senses, trained after meeting Sachsen, had become even sharper since he became a knight, and now Luagarne-style tactics were layered on top.
‘Do not try to measure the opponent; accept them as they are, and you will see.’
That principle shattered Encrid's limits. His concepts expanded, and his thoughts stretched endlessly.
‘Flame Shaping Spell.’
This was the Salamander's third method. Separate from its forepaws, blazing flames flew in like javelins. To be precise, they weren't spearheads, but they looked like similar rods. And there weren't just one or two of them. If there was even a slight opening, dozens would form and fly in within a single breath.
This wasn't the end. The Salamander possessed more authority.
‘Flame Heteromorphs.’
The fourth was creating things like flame golems. Portions of the lava-like fireballs falling from the flame clouds transformed into the shapes of wolves, golems, bears, or snakes, rushing at the group.
‘And on top of that, a rain of fire.’
Streams of fire as thick as fingers fell continuously from the flame clouds. Each was a streak of fiery rain capable of easily burning and piercing human skin. The mountain path was being gouged out, flattening the terrain. Trees caught fire, and everything turned red. It felt as though they had entered a prison made of flames.
‘And finally, mirages.’
This entire area was filled with heat that induced illusions. If they let their guard down even slightly, the scorching heat threatened to ring in their ears with auditory and visual hallucinations.
Nothing about this was easy. Yet, no one was falling victim to it.
Snap!
Esther snapped her fingers and chanted a spell.
“Demuiller's Space Control.”
Though the hand seals seemed simple and the activation word brief, the spell Esther had just cast was a considerable feat of acrobatics. She had instantly removed the conditions required for the flames to exist. She had created a vacuum in the area where the flame spears, arrows, and rain of fire were descending. In her perception, she had stopped the wind and made the air in the vicinity vanish.
Thus, the projectiles shaped from flame dispersed in midair. Space Control was a volatile spell, not a continuous one. It activated for a single moment and then vanished. An effect that would normally have little significance was working with perfect relevance right now because the necessary spell had been activated at the exact moment it was needed. It was proof of just how outstanding Esther's sense for magic was.
“Easy, so easy,” Rem muttered about ten paces behind Esther as he continuously launched projectiles imbued with sorcery power.
Every single bullet accurately shattered the cores of the flame golems. To the eyes of one who had mastered sorcery, finding the cores of these heteromorphs was incredibly simple. Originally, Rem was far more adept at dealing with formless entities. While the flame heteromorphs were not evil spirits, they were opponents where amorphous fire had taken form. Rem could locate their cores without even expending much sorcery power.
Furthermore, because Encrid had called for a battle of attrition, Rem was moderately conserving his stamina. The same went for the others.
Audin continuously threw punches at the incoming masses of fire, using his shoulders as shields to deflect them.
“O Lord.”
What was impressive was his movement. He half-turned his body, pivoting his shoulders. The moment a fireball grazed past his Holy Light Armor, Audin's palm thrust straight forward.
Boom!
Without fail, the phantom beast's forepaw would explode. He was deflecting the pushing force of the flame forepaw while striking its vulnerable center to disperse it. It sounded easy in theory, but it was a skill that required grueling practice to pull off. Audin had used Valaf-style martial arts as his foundation and had since applied his own methods to transition into a new realm of martial arts. Naturally, this was Encrid's influence. All of that was now bearing fruit.
Portions of the exploded fireball washed over Audin. He lightly stepped to the side, escaping the flames' area of effect. In this manner, he too struck using only the minimum necessary movement and strength.
‘This is much easier than Captain Brother, at least.’
Encrid, who possessed Uske, was like a monster. And Audin was a monster who enjoyed sparring with such an opponent all day long.
Ragna simply watched quietly, only thrusting his sword out once in a while. Whatever caught his blade was cut. It didn't matter if it was a heteromorph or a projectile made of flames. His sword strikes cut through anything. He must have realized something again and moved forward; Ragna possessed that kind of talent.
Encrid observed this and thought at the same time.
‘A group tactical formation based on the Wave-Blocking Sword.’
He had analyzed the opponent and decided on the response. He told Rem and the others what was needed, and they carried it out exactly. There was nothing difficult about it. As they picked up the pace and beat it down, they even seemed to have room to spare. The Salamander instinctively felt a sense of crisis and absorbed the power of the heteromorphs it had scattered around.
This was what had stopped the Salamander's advance toward the Border Guard.
A crackle of thunder rumbled through the flame clouds. At the same time, flames shot out in a zigzag pattern. Encrid accelerated his thoughts to react. He prepared to raise Dawn to deflect it. At that moment, a white longsword crossed into his field of vision.
As a result, the flame—which was like lightning mixed into the rain of fire—struck Dawn and the white longsword, exploding and dispersing.
Boom!
A shockwave spread along with the deafening explosion. A gale blew, strong enough to lift an ordinary person off their feet. Naturally, Encrid was unfazed. So was the dragonkin.
“You would have blocked it even on your own.”
“Probably.”
The dragonkin spoke, reading the other's inner thoughts out of habit.
“Truth.”
The two briefly locked eyes. Then, they went back to doing what they had to do. The dragonkin was trying to prevent them from harming the Salamander while also ensuring they did not get hurt. It was a task that truly offered a glimpse into the dragonkin's madness. For no matter how strong he was, subduing the Salamander alone without letting anyone get hurt was an incredibly difficult feat.
Of course, Temares had been willing to burn his own life force to do so, but now, that necessity had vanished.
The Salamander's tongue sliced between the two of them. Encrid took just a single step to the right, casually batting away the falling rain of fire with Dawn. The dragonkin strolled through the rain of fire, dodging the thermal tongue.
‘Futile.’
All of the Salamander's attacks were just that. Furthermore, there was no hesitation in the hands of Encrid and the Mad Knights. No matter what the Salamander did, they dodged and countered. The rain of fire targeted them continuously, but it wasn't actually as dense as real rain.
Knights were those who had surpassed their limits. They observed and dodged, and those who couldn't simply blocked. For instance, Esther cast a spell to coat her body in a protective barrier. That was enough. The attacks were blocked again and again. None of the Salamander's authorities could reach them here.
At the same time, they held their ground, crushing and smashing everything. Regulating their breathing was no difficult task. Since Ragna and everyone else had faced Encrid before, they were masters at conserving their stamina.
Uske was an inexhaustible well. Sparring day and night with a man who possessed such a Will naturally taught them how to conserve their strength and fight.
After swinging Dawn a few times, Encrid became half a spectator. But being a spectator didn't mean he was just standing idly by. As he repeatedly analyzed the patterns, the true form of the phantom beast, which should have been invisible, began to faintly appear. It was the shape of a four-legged beast.
‘I feel like it would die if I cut it.’
Encrid had awakened his tactical sense after falling into Abnayor's trap in the past. Even in this current battlefield, he saw the path to victory.
‘If Rem brings it down and Ragna cuts it...’
It wouldn't be simple, but if he joined in as well, it would work. In other words, it was possible to lay this flame wraith—whether it was a phantom beast or a monster—to rest. He believed in Dawn. It was an Imprinted Weapon. There was nothing a weapon imbued with Will could not cut. It was not a sense of omnipotence, but trust and faith.
The dragonkin watched all of this. It was only natural for him to be filled with admiration. Furthermore, the dragonkin's sensitivity allowed him to read a portion of the will radiating from Encrid. It was a talent to read the opponent's inner state, even if he couldn't read their exact thoughts. It was a skill he had recalled once again while fighting.
The dragonkin was also a master of mind-reading. The reason for this was his ultra-precise sense that read the opponent's will, and that sense had now awakened.
“My duty is to protect the phantom beast and ensure it does not commit slaughter it does not wish for,” the dragonkin spoke once more. If necessary, he would back his words with action.
“I know,” Encrid replied.
Then what should they do with it? Encrid could hold out like this for three days and nights. Would doing just that be enough?
While everyone was holding their ground and doing their part, Sinar did not step forward, except to dodge the rain of fire. To be precise, there was no moment for her to step in.
However, the elf felt her heart pounding.