Sinar stepped forward next, but she too lost.
Of course, it wasn’t as if she fought desperately for her life.
Perhaps it was simply a bad matchup, or maybe there was just a gap in skill.
Encrid never considered himself to be exceptional among Knights, but it was still surprising to meet someone clearly superior.
Especially when the opponent wasn’t even trying to kill him. He had no choice but to accept defeat. Though Overdeer defeated them both, neither was seriously hurt.
After the fight, Overdeer’s gaze shifted to Audin.
His eyes were similar to those of a Fairy, devoid of emotion and completely impassive. They were like eyes painted in grayscale.
“Heretic Audin, I’ve heard of you.”
Overdeer spoke.
As an Apostle of the God of War with divine talent, his name was well-known.
Even Overdeer, one of the seven Martyrs of Abundance who represented the cult, knew his name.
The brief silence mingled with the setting sun, swallowing up the sounds around them.
The distant cries of the beasts had stopped, leaving only the sounds of insects and the wind.
* * *
Caw!
For some reason, Rem, Ragna, and Jaxon were all gathered at the training grounds outside the barracks, and a crow flew overhead.
Caw!
A magpie seemed to be chasing after it.
It was as if the birds were having their own group training, cawing loudly as they flew above them.
The crow’s caws had echoed several times now.
“How many times is that?”
Rem mumbled as he looked up at the sky. The twins from the West counted on their fingers before answering.
“The third time?”
“Black birds have been showing up a lot today.”
Rem muttered again, feeling an odd sense of foreboding.
Crows, known for their intelligence, were often used as messenger birds.
However, they were difficult to train and handle, so there weren’t many of them in use.
Often, they would wander off to do as they pleased midway.
Their intelligence was high enough that if not handled by a skilled trainer or druid, they might just eat the food and disappear.
The crow that had just passed overhead was likely untrained.
After all, there was no reason for an urgent message to be sent to the Border Guard right now.
“Tch.”
Rem clicked his tongue.
There was an old superstition in the West that if a crow flew by at sunset, it was bad luck.
Though Rem knew the origin of the superstition, he didn’t really believe in it.
Long ago, a sorcerer who spread curses had used crows to bring rains of pestilence over the western tribes.
That was all there was to it. However, having heard the story since he was young, it still felt unsettling.
With that unease and the unexpected gathering of his comrades, he had something he wanted to ask.
It was unlikely, but maybe they knew something, or were pretending not to.
And perhaps, though it was a long shot—they knew a method he hadn’t thought of.
The odds of that were as slim as a lazy wanderer making it back from a trip on time, but it was still worth asking.
“You guys know the Captain’s weakness, right?”
Rem spoke casually.
Jaxon, who was whittling a piece of wood with a knife, glanced at Rem but didn’t answer.
At least he looked over, which was more than usual.
If it were any other time, he’d likely have ignored him completely.
“Did you get your tongue cut off while goofing around somewhere? Hey, blood-crazed rookie.”
Rem scolded the street urchin and called to someone else.
As expected, Ragna didn’t even pretend to hear.
He might not have realized he was being addressed, as the title Rem used wasn’t one he’d recognize, and he was currently focused on training, something he hadn’t done in a while.
To be precise, he was reflecting on something he had realized while training Lawford—more accurately, beating him up.
Whoosh, whoosh.
Ragna absentmindedly swung his sword up and down, and a vein bulged on Rem’s forehead.
“That brat…”
Should he cut off one of his arms with an axe to get him to listen? Or perhaps put a curse on him?
As he seriously considered it, Jaxon finally muttered to himself.
“He lacks the knack for putting power into a single blow.”
Short and to the point, but a clear opinion. And an accurate one.
However, his tone wasn’t pleasing, nor was his attitude.
“Do you need a speech coach or something? Have you forgotten how to speak politely?”
Rising to Knightly rank hadn’t changed Rem or Jaxon. Ragna was the same.
“It’ll probably take a while.”
Ragna finally stopped swinging his sword and spoke, filtering out what he didn’t need and responding only to what was relevant.
What he said was right. After all, they had all watched Encrid for long enough to know.
Whether slow or roundabout, he steadily approached his goal. He was the type who never stopped walking toward what he wanted, whether it took a long or a short time.
Awakening his Will and reaching the rank of a Knight.
It wasn’t that Encrid hadn’t changed.
He’d learned techniques, developed his swordsmanship, and progressed in ways that were dazzling to behold.
It was almost entertaining to watch.
Luagarne, who had been training with him, chose not to join this mission because she feared she’d become too absorbed in watching Encrid’s training rather than her own. That was how much Encrid had improved.
Compared to when he first came as a squad leader, his skill was incomparable.
But that didn’t mean it was satisfying.
Why? Because it felt like wasted potential.
The latent Will inside him was a potent force that could make exhaustion seem trivial.
But no matter how fine the steel, it’s useless if it isn’t sharpened.
If it isn’t shaped properly, it’s hard even to wield it.
To Rem, Jaxon, and Ragna, Encrid’s weakness was clear.
Because of his immense reservoir of Will, he would never tire, but the amount of Will he could pour into a single strike wasn’t all that high.
Only by gaining the proper knack could he overcome this.
Rem knew this. He was only asking to confirm.
Fortunately, there wasn’t some brilliant solution he didn’t know about.
Or rather, it was expected.
After all, they were the same as him.
“I’d sooner teach a ghoul to talk than hold a conversation with you two.”
Rem muttered his curse at them and turned away.
They had just gathered by chance and he’d merely voiced a thought.
It was something they all knew but hadn’t spoken aloud. And they didn’t believe Encrid was unaware of it either.
Could a man who spent all his time swinging his sword and reviewing his actions not know something so basic?
Of course, he would know.
* * *
Audin, kneeling with one knee raised before the Saintess, looked ahead.
He had watched the fight between Prophet Overdeer and Encrid, predicting the outcome just as it began.
‘Not good.’
There was something that he, Rem, Ragna, and Jaxon all understood.
Encrid had a well that would never run dry, but the bucket he used to draw from it was small.
The amount of water one could draw at a time was limited by the size of the bucket. Encrid was in this state now.
Overdeer’s rod suddenly shone as Encrid blocked and was pushed back repeatedly.
It must have been bewildering, perhaps a frustrating experience for him.
One of the skills learned by monks, the Martial Ascetics, upon reaching a certain level was ‘Divine Penetration’, which allowed them to ignore an opponent’s iron defense and strike the interior directly.
Before becoming Knights, Crusaders or Holy Knights learned the technique of Iron Armor.
With everyone training in Iron Armor and focusing on honing it, it was only natural for methods to be developed to counter it.
The Martial Ascetics were those who researched and mastered such techniques.
Thus, it was only logical that they would reach a level where they could break or ignore Iron Armor.
‘I haven’t taught him that yet.’
Audin thought to himself. Divine Penetration caused joints to creak and stiffen. It wasn’t a severe blow, but it was inconvenient.
In a Knightly duel, if one side’s movements became restricted, the outcome was decided easily.
If it had been Rem or Ragna, they would have used their Will or sorcery to expel the divinity in a single moment.
Encrid tried something similar. However, the opponent simply repeated the same tactic, causing an uncomfortable sensation to accumulate and hinder his movements.
The more they clashed, the greater the disadvantage.
Divine Will wrapped around his body, obstructing his movements.
Still, Encrid didn’t easily retreat.
“Interesting.”
“Yes, it is.”
Amidst all this, he even spoke, smiling as he swung his sword. The strikes were fierce, powerful, and swift.
Without divine insight, it would be hard to keep up with his speed.
If he missed even a single movement from the ankles to the body, he would lose track of the target point, displaying remarkable precision.
But that was it.
His tempered body and the Will he poured out didn’t align.
While he had strength, he didn’t wield much concentrated Will in a single stroke.
Or rather, under normal circumstances, it was substantial, but his opponent was too overwhelming.
Overdeer was a complete warrior.
In speed, strength, and technique, he fell short in none, and his Divine Power repeatedly struck Encrid’s body.
Though he could endure, he couldn’t win.
That was Audin’s conclusion, and the outcome was the same.
It didn’t appear as if he was fighting with all his might.
The same went for Overdeer.
Sinar also stepped forward but was no match at all.
Her strike might have been lethal to Overdeer.
If she could find an opening and exploit it, that is. But creating an opening was challenging.
Against an opponent clad in divine energy, her attacks would have no effect.
Her specialty, the Elemental Blade, was incompatible with Divine Armor.
When one encased oneself in divine energy, it formed a layer like iron armor.
It was sturdy enough to repel most attacks.
The faint glow surrounding Overdeer proved this.
The Elemental Blade Sinar created shattered with a crack as it struck him.
While this shook the light around his body momentarily, the blade broke away, leaving Overdeer’s protective aura intact.
In this situation, the one with greater strength held the advantage, and for now, Overdeer’s divine energy was far more potent.
The difference was nearly incomparable.
Therefore, Sinar was forced back.
Naturally, she hadn’t used her last resort.
Even if she had, it wouldn’t have guaranteed victory.
And so, both had lost.
“Are you here to rescue the Saintess?”
Overdeer asked.
Before the purple sunset completely faded.
A gust of wind ruffled his hair.
The traces left on the ground showed evidence of their fight: disturbed soil and shattered stones scattered around.
They hadn’t intended to kill, but a duel between Knights had taken place here.
If the surroundings were undisturbed, that would have been strange.
Those who had initially pursued the Saintess had long since retreated.
Among them, Alma had been watching him closely.
Would Encrid and Sinar fight together now? Or would they call him in as well?
If so, they might stand a chance.
No, if one of the three were to be sacrificed, they could win. If they were willing to kill the opponent at all costs, that was one way.
But would their Captain take that path?
It was unlikely.
Would they retreat, then? That, too, was doubtful.
So what would happen?
By this point, Audin had half made up his mind.
“If needed, I will take the Saintess’s place.”
Even if it shortened his life or meant a lifetime of suffering, so be it.
It was a duty only he could fulfill, so he would.
No matter what Encrid said, he would not retreat. Even if it meant death. That was the kind of person he was. So he couldn’t let that happen.
“It’s time for you to withdraw.”
Overdeer spoke again. The funny thing here was that Encrid wasn’t the type to obediently listen after losing once.
“One more time?”
He said.
Whether a duel or a fight, he wasn’t going to back down.
His resolve flared, making his blue eyes shine, like flames.
In that moment, Overdeer felt an intuition.
This man before him wouldn’t give up no matter what.
* * *
Formidable.
Of course, Encrid knew his own weakness.
There were times when he could perform the Iron Armor with ease. When given time to prepare, Encrid could draw out more of his Will than usual.
The Iron Armor technique proved as much.
But now was different.
In the brief instant of a strike, he had to pour in just as much Will.
Of course, he was trying repeatedly even now, but it wasn’t going smoothly.
‘Hm.’
Encrid adjusted his grip on his sword as he collected his thoughts.
So, is this a crisis?
It seemed like it.
Of all the times he had relived this day, this might be the most challenging moment.
If death were approaching, or if the opponent intended to kill him, he could simply die and repeat the day. But if the opponent had no such intent?
What should he do then?
That was the problem now.
The Holy Knight called Overdeer had no intention of killing him.
Thwack!
He dodged the sword strikes, and the rod struck his body without shattering or breaking it. Thus, he merely endured.
In Encrid’s mind, there was no thought of teaming up with Sinar or Audin to kill the opponent.
Would it require a sacrifice? No, that wasn’t it.
Since his opponent had come forth openly and proudly, he would do the same.
So combining their strength to kill the opponent was a path he wouldn’t take, even if it meant his own death.
Then? What else was left?
-Go ahead, stick your head in.
The ferryman’s voice echoed faintly.
-Go on and get yourself killed.
The ferryman’s words resounded endlessly. What he offered was an easy path—a truly simple solution.
-Just die. Die, and start over.
-That’s all you need. Secure the today that will repeat, and overcome this wall.
To Encrid, this sounded like an invitation to throw away today for the sake of tomorrow.
Not to live the best today, but to settle for the next best thing.
Words he had heard repeatedly in his dreams over the past days, and now this phantom voice.
If Overdeer didn’t kill him, he could simply open the door to repeat today himself.
Then he’d have a chance to overcome Overdeer.
But he’d live in the endless repetition of today.
“Oh, I really hate that.”
Encrid muttered as he stepped back, having just taken another blow to the shoulder from the rod.
“What are you saying?”
Overdeer asked, but Encrid shook his head.
“Just talking to myself.”
If someone who understood everything here were to ask why he insisted on taking the difficult path, Encrid would answer as follows.
If there were an imperfect tomorrow and a perfect today, he would always choose the imperfect tomorrow.
“Nothing changes through mere stubbornness.”
Over the ferryman’s voice, Overdeer’s voice layered on top,
“Being stubborn changes nothing.”
Well, who’s to say?
In truth, it wasn’t mere stubbornness, it was more like persistence, and beyond that, it was closer to conviction.
Of course, Encrid was simply acting as he always did. He stood, unwavering, with his sword in hand. Just as before.
Nothing had changed. He had lost. But he still didn’t retreat.
“Why are you doing this?”
Overdeer asked. Encrid answered only the truth.
“Because you keep an innocent girl locked up, extracting her divinity, don’t you?”
Without mincing words, he drove straight to the point. Shilma flinched at Encrid’s blunt remark.
As if to say, what was he talking about?
Only then did Overdeer’s gaze shift behind Audin, to the fallen child.
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