Leaving after killing everyone?
It wasn't an impossible notion. After all, reality was as such.
With Encrid, Sinar, and Audin, killing the five before them wasn't a difficult task.
Even if one of the five was of a Junior-Knight’s rank, they posed no threat whatsoever.
Encrid alone could take down every one of them without letting a single one slip.
When Encrid posed the question, Alma’s eyebrows twitched.
Kill everyone? Who? Me? Hadn't they spared me to keep the holy order’s scrutiny at bay?
“What?”
The stunned Alma managed a single word but couldn’t follow up. Shilma was no different.
While the burning fervor of divine duty shone in their bloodshot eyes, the words seemed unreal.
They couldn’t believe he would even say such a thing.
Words beyond expectation, beyond imagination.
To dare threaten to kill members of the holy order to silence them.
Especially when the very thought of confronting this opponent meant certain death for them.
Encrid didn't emit any sense of Intimidation. He spoke in an even, calm tone.
Yet, the weight carried in his words was altogether different.
Both his renown as the Knight of the Iron Wall and the current demeanor he displayed.
If he spoke, he would act, otherwise, he wouldn’t have spoken at all.
Encrid’s demeanor left the crowd in silence. Sinar casually rested her right hand on her grip. Killing a few people if necessary wasn’t a challenge.
In the tense air between them, the distant howl of some beast or monstrous entity echoed faintly.
Audin exhaled deeply and shook his head.
He hadn’t succumbed to the devil’s whispers.
Encrid likely wasn’t completely serious either. It was just a threat.
More like a challenge—what exactly were they trusting?
Naturally, Shilma, Alma, and the other five put their faith in the God.
In terms of influence on the continent, the Holy Nation surpassed even the banks.
Banks from the Trade Guild might be in major cities, but the Holy Nation’s temples and monasteries spanned the entire continent.
So then, what exactly could that Holy Nation do now?
It was a matter of that nature.
Audin knew well that Encrid was more resourceful than he seemed.
Shilma, with her bloodshot eyes, and Alma, who had been raging with his might, were effectively silenced.
Just as this threat was about to completely shift the atmosphere.
It was Sinar who reacted first.
Her pointed ears twitched. While Audin’s ears had perked up a bit earlier, now Sinar’s ears genuinely moved.
The tips of her twitching ears directed themselves to one side.
Encrid’s gaze followed the direction her ears pointed. A moment later, so did Audin’s eyes, and everyone’s gaze focused on the path they had just traveled.
Someone was approaching from that direction.
It was quite a distance, but for a Knight who wielded Will, it wasn’t far at all.
‘I see plate armor, a balanced stride, and an iron rod at his waist.’
Embroidered on his clothing were seven clusters of grapes. No one needed to say it out loud.
It was clear he belonged to the Temple of Abundance.
He was also no mere figure. Encrid’s senses were pricked by an ominous presence, one he hadn’t felt with Alma.
The figure walked down the small ridge the group had crossed, neither fast nor slow.
After observing about five of his steps, Encrid saw a strange vision.
In the vision, the figure suddenly launched himself off the ground, grabbed Encrid by the neck, and slammed him into the ground.
Was it only a vision?
For a split second, Encrid judged it as something brought on by Will.
In other words, it was something soon to occur, a glimpse into the future his insight had penetrated.
Bang!
At that very moment, the figure’s white robe fluttered as he shot forward toward him.
The armored man with the iron plate was instantly at his nose, his leg snapping like a whip toward Encrid’s calf.
A lower attack following an incredibly swift dash.
Encrid, with his extraordinary dynamic vision, assessed everything—the figure’s approach, the whipping leg movement.
At that same moment, Focus Point activated, causing his thoughts to elongate. It felt as though time had stretched.
‘Fast.’
Should he dodge? No, bracing himself would be better.
In an instant, his Will translated into movement.
Encrid bent his knee, tightened his ankle, and summoned his Will.
His reaction time had improved immensely, and while his foot was struck with a resounding clang, his balance barely wavered.
Additionally, a hand shot toward his neck at the same moment as the kick. Encrid clenched his fist, extending it diagonally.
Using the Valaf-Style Martial Arts, he twisted his waist and rear foot to lend weight and force to his punch in a split second.
Bang!
When their hands met, the compressed air burst with a resounding noise.
A quick, crisp sound followed. Just as the figure had approached, he retreated just as swiftly.
Whish!
Sinar’s blade swept through the space he had vacated a second later.
Her Leaf Blade cut vertically through the sun’s rays, which had barely begun to dip, slicing through the light.
The light was split. It was an exceptionally fast and sharp slash, yet the opponent had already evaded it.
He must have possessed an exceptional level of insight—a keen ability to see a moment ahead.
Yet, Sinar hadn’t finished here.
With his Focus Point, Encrid felt time slow, allowing him to grasp his surroundings.
If not for this, it would have been impossible to follow the rapid and fierce exchange of attack and defense.
Sinar’s Leaf Blade sliced the air and then veered upward, springing forward.
It danced like a swift-swerving swallow in the air.
Once, he had killed a swordsman called the Swift Blade, yet now it was Sinar who should rightly hold that title.
Despite this, the opponent blocked even that attack.
As quick as the dagger Encrid himself would throw, her blade was met with the iron rod that had somehow come into his hand.
Bang!
The clash of the two weapons created a harmony that resounded with a shockwave.
The sound was piercingly loud, reverberating sharply in their ears.
Since the moment Encrid had his vision, all actions had taken place within a single breath.
The opponent was fast, bold, and held nothing back in his strikes.
“It was to be stopped, but you truly did well to stop it.”
The opponent said in apparent admiration.
Living defensively certainly wasn’t his style, but the impact of the kick remained in his leg. His muscles and skin were intact, but his tendons and ligaments felt a sting.
Even after applying the Iron Shell technique, he felt this way.
Even if a Giant had decided to kick him, it wouldn’t have had this effect.
In other words, the opponent had applied some unique technique.
Probably something similar to what allowed him to project that initial vision.
Though his leg was numb, Encrid lowered his hand without showing discomfort.
His relaxed hand hovered near his grip.
He was prepared to draw and strike at any moment.
Despite learning the Valaf-Style Martial Arts, Encrid’s specialty was truly manifested only when he held a sword.
Sinar let her hand holding the Leaf Blade fall, asking,
“What did you do?”
As she, too, had insight, if the opponent had acted, she should have sensed it beforehand.
Even if she wasn’t as fast, she still should have sensed it.
Moreover, she had honed her senses to the point of evading assassins and playing cat-and-mouse with them.
Yet, in his approach, the kick, and the reach of his hand, she had felt no premonition.
What did this imply?
That he held a level of skill far superior to hers?
No, that couldn’t be. She would have sensed it nonetheless.
So then?
The opponent must have used some trick. Obviously, he employed Will.
Their brief clash had revealed as much.
The opponent was a Knight. And to confirm it, Alma, who had been struck by Encrid, cried out.
“Sir Overdeer!”
An unfamiliar name?
For Encrid, it was.
The Inquisitor Bert added, by way of clarification,
“Prophet!”
Prophet.
Now that name Encrid had heard of.
A figure considered the backbone of the Holy Knights.
One who had lived an impossibly long time.
He might look middle-aged, but he was rumored to have lived for over a hundred years.
It was said he aged slowly, a gift of divine blessing. His title was Prophet.
Prophet, as in one who foresees. But his prophecies were reserved only for those who faced him.
He wielded Will, or more specifically, divinity, to imprint visions of their defeat onto his opponents.
It was essentially forcing the future upon his opponent with his Will.
This earned him the title Prophet, as such predetermined futures had never once been overturned.
In his left hand, he held an iron rod, with another at his waist.
Although he appeared gentle with his drooping eyes, the silver of his pupils exuded a mystical air.
Those mystic silver eyes opened to speak.
“A vague revelation descended, leaving me uncertain, but indeed, the will of the Lord is infallible.”
Prophet Overdeer said, drawing the second iron rod from his waist.
Holding one in each hand, his crossed rods indicated his intent to fight.
“They seek to oppress us and steal away the Saintess!”
Shilma cried out, unwilling to let herself be outdone.
“A revelation?”
Out of nowhere, Encrid responded to Overdeer’s words.
Overdeer, hearing Shilma's words, ignored her and continued to gaze at Encrid.
Perhaps he found this interaction more interesting than anything Shilma might say.
Or maybe he simply couldn’t look away.
Even as they spoke, Encrid’s aura continued to swell.
His Will pressed down on Overdeer in an intimidating wave. Though Overdeer didn’t succumb, to ignore it entirely would be a lie. His eyes remained locked on Encrid.
“Yes. I have received a revelation.”
Overdeer replied. His posture was steady, and his tone calm.
Encrid’s mind drifted to the ferryman who had repeatedly appeared in his dreams these past days.
“There will only be hardship and trials in your path.”
“Is there nothing more to tell me about swordsmanship?”
“You will wish you could remain trapped in today.”
“What about this, instead of the Wave Blocking Sword?”
“You will become an immortal.”
“When the opponent strikes down, you block it with your blade this way, then close in.”
Around the time the word “immortal” appeared, Encrid, balancing on a swaying boat, demonstrated the move.
He had shared these insights he’d gained while traveling the continent, rediscovering techniques he had learned from Krona, with the ferryman.
The ferryman seemed surprisingly knowledgeable about swordsmanship. His advice, thrown out casually, often proved helpful.
“… I will not curse.”
The last time he encountered the ferryman, the man spoke only what he wanted to, and Encrid did the same, there was no fault in either.
Recalling the ferryman brought an odd question to Encrid’s mind.
Staring directly into the silver pupils of the Prophet before him, he asked,
“By any chance, was the one who gave you that revelation on a boat? With gray, cracked skin? Or holding a purple lamp?”
It was a truly random question, nearly nonsensical. It was difficult for anyone to understand his intent in asking it.
Audin and Sinar were just as perplexed.
Encrid didn’t care about that. He didn’t care what these people believed.
You could even say he held no prejudice.
He did not insult them as fanatics, nor did he mind if they took bribes while claiming to believe in God.
As long as they didn’t cross the line he had set for himself, that was fine.
Such thoughts led him to wonder if perhaps another voice might interrupt the beliefs these people held.
In reality, this might be seen as a denial of the God that formed the foundation of their faith.
Though he hadn’t thought about it deeply.
If God existed and was truly just as they believed, then why must one child be imprisoned under the title of saintess, while corrupt priests and believers go unpunished? It was this lack of answers that led Encrid not to believe.
It was this disbelief that allowed him to speak as he did.
If Overdeer had known this, perhaps the tranquility he had cultivated over a hundred years might have faltered.
But there was no way Overdeer could know Encrid’s thoughts, and what he had learned over his long life was that it was best not to respond to unnecessary words.
Overdeer acted upon that wisdom.
“Revelations come only from my Lord.”
In other words, he was refusing to entertain Encrid’s nonsense.
Encrid hadn’t expected an answer to his question anyway. He had asked half-jokingly.
Since the ferryman only appeared in dreams or visions, Encrid didn’t expect an immediate answer from this conversation.
Though he had wondered if the ferryman might be pulling some trick, he realized after asking that it wasn’t likely.
In any case, it wasn’t important.
The ferryman had told him that his path would be filled only with hardship and trials, that he would repeat today in an endless cycle.
That he would face unending obstacles.
Encrid had never given it any serious thought.
Life was naturally filled with hardship and trials, and any wall could be overcome, that was all there was to it. The same applied now.
Whether the person before him was a Prophet or a Holy Knight didn’t matter.
Whether the ferryman had sent him, or he was there due to some divine revelation, or mere coincidence—it didn’t matter. All he felt was his heart pounding.
‘He’s strong.’
With just a single exchange, he could feel it.
The audacious quickness of his movements, his solid physique.
His fighting style was different from Audin’s.
He took note of the two iron rods held by the one called the Prophet.
Ting.
He brought the rods together, crossing them.
Sinar lifted her Leaf Blade, angling it toward their opponent.
“Crusader Alma declares that scoundrel to be a heretic and a fugitive!”
Alma’s finger pointed to Audin. Audin glanced around, finding no one, then raised his brows, prodding his own chest with a finger as he asked,
“Are you talking about me?”
His nonchalance rivaled Encrid’s.
He had picked up a few things over the years, after all.
It was an impressive display of acting skill.
Put him in a puppet show in a monastery, and he’d be able to maneuver more than five puppets with ease.
A true monastery caretaker who looked after orphans might think such things.
But to Alma, standing there having said it, all he wanted to do was spit out curses.
“Of course it’s you! Who else would it be?”
Alma, unable to contain his anger, shouted. Thankfully, he held back any vulgar language.
Alma’s insides churned.
His heart burned, as though someone had set it on fire.
His rage surged to its peak.
He’d been kicked and hit all day, losing any face he’d once held, and after Encrid’s words about killing everyone, he hadn’t been able to make even a peep in protest.
Left speechless with a mere ‘What?’, his self-esteem and wounded pride only made him angrier.
Of course, he was furious at how things had gone so wrong.
Around that time, he had overheard Bert speaking about Audin.
A heretic, a fugitive. A criminal.
Prophet Overdeer’s gaze moved between Encrid, Audin, and the fallen saintess.
“Hmm.”
Overdeer merely let out a short, dismissive cough. His face betrayed nothing.
Watching this farcical scene, Encrid shifted his position. The sun was setting, and as he moved to the side, the angle of the descending mountain light from the Gigante Mountains struck his opponent’s eyes.
Today’s sunset was closer to purple than orange, with a hint of pink, perhaps due to the influence of the Gigante Mountains or for some other reason.
Overdeer, despite the light piercing his eyes, did not change his stance. His gaze followed Encrid’s movements.
“I will not kill you. For it is not your fault.”
Overdeer said.
“Oh, is that so?”
Encrid replied with a strike of his sword.
Pushing off the ground with one foot, he closed the distance in a flash and aimed directly for the crown of his head.
A swift and heavy slash, as though mirroring Ragna’s technique.
Clang!
A booming sound erupted.
It was the collision of rod and blade.
Sinar didn’t interfere.
This was a duel. Winning by stabbing someone in the back was no victory. It would go against honor and conviction.
There were things that had to be preserved. Encrid wouldn’t permit interference.
For this reason, Encrid stepped forward alone and lost.
But he did not die.
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.. 🤔