"I knew you'd become someone big, but were you really the Demon Slayer?"
Knight Jamal. In duels, his name was one that could easily rival Varna Hurrier.
And Jamal had a history of failing to strike down the black-haired, blue-eyed man standing before him.
Though he had moved under the oath with Avnair, that event left a deep impression on Jamal.
Why wouldn’t it?
'It was heavy.'
Though he had parried with trembling sword, that strike was no light blow. It was etched deep into his memory.
At the time, Knight Jamal had not expected his opponent to block his sword.
No, it would be more accurate to say he hadn't anticipated it.
The conversation that followed was just as memorable.
His opponent had spoken of honor, of glory, and claimed it was rare to be struck by a Knight’s sword.
"A shame."
Jamal clicked his tongue as he spoke. He did feel a little regret. Meeting again like this, in this way.
"Did you have some connection?"
Frog General beside him asked. Jamal gave a slight nod. Even Frog stared intently at the opponent.
Some things were never forgotten in life, and Frog had an exceptional memory for faces. Especially handsome ones.
Even to Frog General’s eyes, this man seemed familiar.
"Now I remember."
Frog General muttered.
This was the man, imprinted in his memory, who had killed one of his soldiers.
Once, in a battlefield where Frog had intervened for fun, he had tried to kill this man but had failed.
And now they say he is the Demon Slayer? Frog had a gift for discerning talent, just like Frog General.
Back then, this man hadn’t even caught Frog’s attention.
The gray-haired, axe-wielding man had been far more dangerous.
Frog had pulled back from that battle, unable to guarantee a win.
Though it was a brief moment, Frog General had observed the man who had killed his soldier in that battlefield.
The man Frog had kicked aside with his foot.
Even then, he was sure of it. If that man were thrust into battle, he would soon die.
Yet now, that man had a history of blocking Knight Jamal’s sword and was said to be the greatest threat to Aspen.
"Something seems off."
Frog General muttered.
Then, he raised his three blunt, white-tipped fingers.
Some Frogs pursued impossible dreams, like becoming artisans with those same fingers, but this Frog had fully embraced his skill.
He was a Frog who fought on the front lines. He hadn’t reached Knightly level but had attained that of a Junior-Knight, and his leadership was recognized.
Those who saw his fingers opened their eyes wide with grim resolve and scattered left and right.
Twenty soldiers armed with crossbows took positions in a semicircle around Encrid and aimed their loaded bolts.
It was a sight to behold. Twenty crossbows aimed at one man, while that one man looked back, unconcerned.
It was a reasonably sized clearing. Or rather, it was an artificial one, created by cutting down trees.
Frog General believed that fighting in a place more familiar to the enemy was unwise, so after entering the Pen-Hanil mountain range, he had cleared trees to secure a favorable position.
The clearing was a spot only his forces knew, one the enemy had never seen.
In short, the enemy hadn’t anticipated this move.
Since his troops had arrived in the mountain range first, this preparation was possible.
But had the enemy come unprepared?
Frog General had kept his scouts moving nonstop.
He organized them into groups of five and kept vigilant watch.
The conclusion he reached.
The enemy Commander was a fool.
It was a statement directed at Krais.
There were no other enemy preparations nearby.
Encrid was alone.
He rested his right hand at his waist, left hand hanging loosely, and looked around.
"Are you serious about this?"
He suddenly asked.
"Serious? What are you talking about, coming to fight?"
Frog was also adept at psychological warfare. He smoothly responded to Encrid’s words.
In the meantime, two squads moved behind Encrid, assembling spears and aiming them.
In front, twenty crossbows were aimed, and behind, twenty spears pointed at him.
On top of that, twenty soldiers armed with swords and shields stood at the front.
All were elite soldiers personally trained by Frog General.
Some soldiers clenched their jaws tightly.
They volunteered for this operation, knowing it carried risks.
These were former members of the Gray Hound unit, filled with personal grudges.
A grudge directed at Encrid of the Border Guard.
"I am Encrid of the Border Guard."
At that moment, the man revealed his name.
"I know."
Frog General replied.
As he spoke, he placed his hands on the two Loop swords at his sides.
Two heavy swords with thick blades and considerable weight were his weapons.
"Are you really serious?"
Encrid asked again, and Frog General replied once more.
"Coming to fight, are you babbling out of fear? I understand if you are. It’s natural."
Frog's voice sounded calm, the voice of someone who already held victory in their hands. The General knew well how that would sound to his soldiers.
"Fire."
The General commanded, and the twenty crossbowmen aimed at Encrid and pretended to shoot. Yet Encrid did not move.
"Really?"
He only asked again.
"This bastard."
One of the crossbowmen ground his teeth, but they didn’t fire.
Instead, twenty spears lunged from behind Encrid. They stabbed quickly, far faster than one might expect given their length. Just like the thrusts from soldiers Encrid had faced on a previous day.
These were soldiers trained in the same manner by Frog General.
Frog General anticipated that Encrid would dodge to the side.
Expecting this, the crossbowmen shifted their aim preemptively.
When facing someone at the level of a Knight, reacting based on what you see is too slow. Knowing this, they trained and acted accordingly.
But Encrid did not dodge to the side.
He struck down with his sword on three of the twenty spearheads.
It wasn’t so much fast as it was a heavy, crushing blow, like dropping a boulder.
Even Frog General could see the speed of it.
Encrid crushed three spears into the ground, while he dodged or deflected the remaining spears with the leather bracers on his wrist.
It sounded simple, but witnessing it firsthand was almost unbelievable.
Parrying and dodging spear thrusts as they came right at him?
Could someone do that against twenty spearheads flying at him?
Reading all their attack timings, with overwhelming power and speed, it might be possible.
Even if twenty children came at a grown man with sticks, he might be overwhelmed.
Yet Encrid deflected the shower of spears with ease, knocking them aside like it was nothing.
Remarkably, no one died in the process.
Frog General’s cheeks puffed up.
Even the spears struck by Encrid’s sword didn’t break. Instead, three soldiers dropped to their knees as the impact forced their spearheads into the ground.
"Huh."
Jamal let out a pure sound of admiration. Only he truly understood what had just happened.
"Again!"
Frog General shouted.
Though he called for another attack, it was a different tactic.
"Charge!"
Soldiers armed with swords and shields charged forward, while the crossbowmen fired.
Tutututututu!
Neither Avnair, Varna Hurrier, nor Frog General expected to kill or deal significant damage to a Knight with the forces they had brought.
They simply hoped to land a scratch, anything that might help tip the balance in favor of their Knights.
In short, these were sacrificial pawns. But even so, they hadn’t expected to be so helpless.
'Was I arrogant?'
What is a Knight?
A calamity, they said. The man standing before them was exactly that.
He swung his sword downward three times. The traces of those strikes remained in the air like afterimages.
Though his slashes appeared slower than the arrows flying at him, the arrows aimed at him fell to the ground with a soft thud.
The sound of metal clinking followed.
"How?"
The General muttered. It was beyond his comprehension.
Then the spear unit thrust again, and Encrid’s sword swung down, breaking four spear shafts this time.
The spears, made of birchwood soaked in oil, snapped like reeds.
The middle of the broken spears jutted out like jagged fangs.
Encrid simply knocked them aside with his sword and shifted to the side. As more crossbow bolts flew, he struck them away again, crushing them with his sword.
Then, the soldiers armed with swords and shields charged, disregarding their own lives.
Beneath their helmets, their jaw muscles were tightly clenched.
They were truly prepared to sacrifice their lives, hoping at least to tear at the hem of their opponent’s clothes.
At the very least, they aimed to make him waste one of his secondary weapons.
As they rushed forward, a sword fell upon them.
All the soldiers within the range of the sword raised their shields.
It seemed as though the sword was deliberately swung at just the right speed for them to block it.
The result was the same as before. The sword, heavy as a boulder, pressed down upon their shields.
"Argh!"
"Ugh!"
Several soldiers fell to their knees. Their shields shattered, blood splattered from their arms, and more soldiers who couldn’t absorb the shock tumbled to the ground.
"Aagh!"
One unlucky soldier, whose arm was broken, screamed in pain.
"The Crushing Sword?"
Knight Jamal muttered to himself, and Encrid nodded in confirmation.
"Ha!"
Jamal exclaimed again in admiration.
Now it was certain.
Jamal had known he would become great, but he hadn’t expected that he would truly return as a Knight.
"You've become an interesting fellow."
For newly minted Knights, those who had faced their limits but were still inexperienced, this brutish tactic might have worked.
Even if they only left a scratch, it would have been a gain.
More than anything, the mere presence of well-trained soldiers could weigh on an opponent.
After all, if you were fighting an enemy and had no strength left to lift a finger, would it really be a victory?
In such a moment, the next crossbow bolt would be impossible to block, and though you might win, only death would await.
And once that doubt crept into your mind, the sword you held in your heart would grow dull.
A fight against a Knight could be decided by such trivial matters.
Avnair was indeed a meticulous man to have factored in even this.
Though he knew Naurillia had Knightly forces, he believed they had only recently become Knights and thus lacked experience. His prediction was half correct.
Encrid had recently become a Knight, but he was already experienced.
He was not only skilled in leading battles but also in provoking his opponents through action rather than words.
From the start, Encrid hadn’t even considered Frog General worth his attention.
As proof, though Frog had swung both his swords, Encrid had easily broken one of them with a single strike and kicked it aside.
The desperate charge of the soldiers, the spearmen’s interference, the crossbow bolts, none of it mattered.
His opponent was a Knight.
"Good, good."
Jamal shouted unconsciously.
This man had a knack for stirring people's blood.
The Crushing Sword, the technique that had once blocked his own strike. Back then, Jamal had asked what had blocked his sword.
"The Crushing Sword."
That’s what he had been told.
And now, this one technique had been used to face an entire unit.
Why?
To call him out.
Jamal had made up his mind and stepped forward. Just that movement unleashed a refined Will that weighed down on Encrid.
But Encrid naturally shrugged off the pressure.
"From the start, I never liked Avnair’s methods."
Jamal said.
In a duel between Knights, there were things more important than victory.
When one speaks of conviction and honor, why should there be even a sliver of shame in one’s heart?
For an upright heart is proof of a Knight's true strength.
"Sir Jamal?"
Frog General, picking up his fallen sword, called out to him.
"Step back. From now on, standing too close could get you killed."
Jamal spoke as he looked at his opponent. At that moment, Encrid’s face almost showed a smile.
He had found his true adversary and focused on Jamal.
A memory naturally resurfaced.
There was a day when someone had died from this man’s sword.
There was a day when Ragna had died from his sword. A sword that made one long for death.
And now, that sword was in his hand, right before him.
"Are you ready to die?"
Encrid asked.
"Ha, arrogant bastard."
Jamal laughed at his opponent.
No, both of them laughed.
Were they worthy rivals? Or perhaps not even that?
Wouldn’t it be normal and expected for Jamal, a Knight with years of experience, to win easily?
Encrid had already forgotten about winning or losing.
Instead, his heart was consumed with the fiery joy of battle, which spread through his entire body.
"Won’t this be fun?"
His question, full of anticipation, was no different from that of a madman, but for Knights, this much was natural.
Jamal, too, had once been wild and reckless. Encrid’s fierce energy brought back memories of those days.
"It will be."
Jamal answered with certainty.
In an instant, they closed the distance and exchanged strikes.
Voom.
Jamal vibrated his blade and swung, while Encrid raised his Gladius, deflecting the strike with Valyrian steel.
Clang!
The clash of two clear purposes rang out in harmony.
Encrid and Jamal passed each other, exchanging a blow, and then turned back to face each other.
Having switched places, they faced each other once again.
"It didn’t work?"
Jamal spoke.
Though his vibrating sword had been blocked, he didn’t seem surprised.
Of course.
This wasn’t his specialty.
Thanks for the Chapter Bro!!! :DD
Thanks for the Chapter.
Is it updated regularly? Also what is release schedule
Creo que he leído el manhwa, talvez lo esté confundiendo.. 🤔