Audin heard Encrid speak as he swung his sword through the air.
Those words felt like a piercing strike—direct and unhesitating.
If compared to swordsmanship, that’s what it would be.
Finishing his words, Encrid swung his sword a few more times in the air.
Since his body had not been moving properly since midway through the battle, he was likely checking himself.
It was a habit Audin himself had taught him.
No matter what happens, always check if your body is moving as it should.
He’d said it was foolish to fight without knowing your own condition.
Maintaining peak condition should always be a priority.
So he advised eating well, sleeping well, fighting well, and focusing on training, but also knowing the limits of one’s body clearly.
Encrid had always done so.
‘You are my best student.’
Audin thought, raising his head. Now it was his turn to speak.
He needed to say he would return to the Order to accept his punishment, offering his life as payment.
To ask Encrid to stop fighting and let the girl known as the Saint Child go. Could he not?
He would offer everything in his stead.
"I will offer my remaining life."
Muttering to himself, Audin raised his head. He saw the Holy Knight, radiating a sacred glow.
The man stood in the position Audin had once aspired to reach.
Seeing his divinity, Audin understood. The holy light was pure white. This was not the light of a corrupted soul.
The gaze of the divine would tarnish the light of a fallen priest.
That’s also why many priests couldn’t wield true divinity.
And so came the term ‘ragged saint’.
There was one who donned rags and healed people, earning that nickname.
A true saint wandering the continent, enshrining the divine in his heart.
The Order called him the ‘abandoned saint’.
Audin had wanted to meet that ragged saint, someone he knew personally.
Rumor had it he became a skillful survivalist, hiding from the Order’s pursuit.
It was idle thinking, mere reminiscing of a past life.
As he made up his mind, Overdeer spoke.
"Who said that?"
"You’re pretending not to know."
Encrid replied calmly, stopping his sword swings and now rotating one ankle in the air.
He clearly had no intention of backing down. That was evident from his stance alone.
"Can you prove those words?"
Overdeer asked, his tone polite but reserved. It sounded strangely forced, as if he were deliberately adjusting his speech.
"Hmm, maybe?"
Encrid tilted his head.
"Are you insulting the Order based on speculation?"
With the same irritable tone, Overdeer raised his finger mid-sentence, gesturing toward Audin with the iron rod he held.
"Crusader Alma, answer me. Is he a heretic?"
Alma, glancing at him, nudged Bert. The inquisitor Bert spoke in Alma’s place.
"Prophet Overdeer, his name is Audin Plumray. I know he is guilty of the same crime as the man who killed my father and of abandoning his duties as an inquisitor. Despite once being recognized for his exceptional talent and blessed by the divine, he betrayed even the priest who raised him."
"Why hasn’t he been caught until now?"
"We only recently found traces of him. He appeared in the Capital of the Kingdom of Naurillia, where, fortunately, a priest who knows the face of the heretic happened to be."
Bert struggled to put together his words.
From the outside, the role of an inquisitor might look like chasing down and beating people to death, but it was mostly about constructing logical arguments.
No matter how powerful the Order, it couldn’t ignore public opinion entirely when condemning heresy and delivering punishment.
Only after gaining public acceptance would they burn or imprison people.
Of course, this didn’t apply to those without power.
A crooked priest, who once saw Audin’s talent and divine light, had pushed him into such a role.
A position to persecute and kill the powerless.
And killing the child of a bishop had fueled the archbishop’s hatred for him.
Ultimately, Audin couldn’t bear it and left the Order.
That was the truth, but no one here would consider it.
"Is that so?"
That was the end of it. Overdeer raised his iron rod once more, and Encrid raised his sword to meet him.
Regardless of the conversation, their fight was far from over.
Swish.
A beam of light extended from the iron rod, slicing through the twilight sky.
A blue blade met it head-on.
Bang! Bang bang bang!
It was a clash of Knight against Knight. The shockwave from their sword and iron rod struck the air, reverberating around them.
Invisible ripples of power spread, as if pushing away both air and light.
Sparks and blood splattered between them.
Sizzle.
Encrid’s eyes and senses responded in time, yet his arm felt slightly out of sync.
Or rather, it moved, but just a fraction too slow. His earlobe tore slightly as a result.
A torn earlobe was no reason to retreat, so he ignored the wound, readjusting his stance.
If his muscles, tendons, and ligaments creaked and slowed his responses, then he’d just minimize his movements.
And he did so.
Using the skills he learned from Aker’s Web, Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Audin, he minimized his movement and refined his actions.
All the while, he activated the Rejection Will, repelling the divine energy invading his body.
But that took time.
In the meantime, Overdeer’s iron rod struck, jabbed, and slashed relentlessly.
With each strike, Encrid saw countless illusions.
That was Overdeer’s specialty, creating mental projections in his opponent’s mind.
He allowed only one person to glimpse his intent fully.
The frightening part was that his opponent’s intuition itself reinforced Overdeer’s skill.
Encrid’s keen sight, acquired through Aker’s Web, now felt like shackles.
Even now, he foresaw an image, where Overdeer’s iron rod intersected with his sword, striking his thigh in the gap.
And that vision became reality.
Thud! Thwack!
Overdeer deflected the sword and kicked Encrid’s thigh. The kick, while quick, carried little weight and didn’t throw off his balance.
Unable to dodge, Encrid took the hit.
If this kept happening, most would soon feel despair.
As if the course of every fight was entirely under Overdeer’s control.
That was precisely why he was called the Prophet.
But Encrid didn’t yield.
If he were to despair or give up so easily, he would have long settled for the kind of eternity ferrymen sang of.
An eternity granted for a single day.
"Hmm."
A piercing pain radiated from the struck area.
Although it wasn’t weighted, the blow had enough force for the Divine Power to penetrate.
Yet Encrid didn’t retreat.
"Ha!"
Instead, he let out a battle cry, channeling his condensed Will into his sword as he struck downward.
He twisted his ankle to add speed to the blade. The sword, bending mid-swing, accelerated. A double acceleration. It mimicked one of Ragna’s techniques.
Clang! Crack!
Overdeer took the force head-on.
A crack formed in the middle of his Valyrian steel sword. It wasn’t enough to shatter it outright.
The sword, crafted by Eitri, though not engraved, bore his unmistakable craftsmanship. It wasn’t a blade to break easily.
As that thought steadied Encrid’s mind, his resolve naturally grew. He swung again.
Overdeer knew his opponent wouldn’t yield so easily.
Which left him with little choice.
He had declared he wouldn’t kill Encrid, and he intended to keep that promise.
A Knight’s word should carry that weight.
But at the very least, he felt it necessary to break a limb.
"Let’s see how long you can hold out."
"There’s no need to hold out."
Overdeer spoke, with the ferryman’s voice overlapping his.
He knew there was no need to hold out. But merely doing what’s necessary doesn’t lead to success.
To achieve what he desired, for that alone, Encrid decided to wage a futile battle.
He had wandered the continent, met countless people, and learned through various experiences.
"Becoming a Knight alone achieves nothing."
A Knight shouldn’t be the end of one’s journey.
So he chose to make Knighthood a beginning rather than an end.
"A Knight? How laughable."
In the company of those who ridiculed him, he hadn’t been able to utter such words.
But now, he stood above those who had once mocked him.
So he would live, as he believed.
"How foolish."
Amid the ferryman’s echoes, Overdeer’s iron rod struck his shoulder.
Encrid, utilizing the techniques Audin had taught him on how to take a hit well, twisted his body.
By tightening his abdominal muscles and adjusting his shoulder angle, he diverted the blow.
Crunch!
There was a definite sound indicating damage to the bone, though nothing had broken.
He swung his sword again, enduring the pain with the heat that surged through him.
Encrid repeated this over and over.
The iron rod in Overdeer’s hand struck him relentlessly.
Several times, Encrid withstood it with just the Valyrian steel sword, then suddenly twisted his body and thrust with a hidden left-hand jab. A hidden jab.
"Good!"
Sinar shouted, watching Encrid’s move.
But before the words could finish, Overdeer blocked the spark of the thrust with his iron rod. The spark traversed the tilted iron rod, releasing a shower of embers in the air.
They continued fighting.
The blade skimmed Overdeer’s cheek and arm. Blood splattered.
It was proof that Encrid’s blade had pierced the holy armor.
This also meant Overdeer’s defenses had weakened.
Beyond enduring, Overdeer stared into the opponent’s eyes that flared with blue flames.
He couldn’t understand his thoughts, only realizing he couldn’t dismiss this opponent.
The divine power in his engraved iron rod intensified.
As their forces clashed, a storm seemed to rage around them.
Amid the crossing weapons, Audin watched with a heart that felt like it was splitting.
"Why do you endure? For what?"
Why? For what reason?
Audin felt torment, as if his own father were rebuking him. Or rather, if he were to be directly punished, he could bear it and endure.
But this wasn’t something he could simply watch with his eyes wide open.
His head spun, and it felt as if his insides churned.
And yet, as he watched, the question of what kept that man standing surged within him.
At the same time, Audin realized he already knew the answer.
Wasn’t that the reason he had chosen to stand up?
Then why now, with hesitation, was he merely watching the fight unfold?
"Enough."
Audin muttered. But neither of them heard. Or perhaps, they couldn’t.
In that moment, Encrid, unable to dodge in time, took a blow to his chest with a dull thud.
Yet Overdeer’s iron rod did not relent.
And neither did Encrid.
Boom!
With a clash of Divine Power and Will, Encrid’s body tumbled backward.
Through the torn and tattered cloak, clothes, and leather armor, even the inner armor became visible.
The sword in his hand miraculously remained unbroken.
Beyond his torment, Audin felt physical pain.
The psychological pain had manifested into physical agony.
With just a bit of slack in his training, that strike would have burst his heart, possibly killing or crippling him.
"Did you endure?"
Overdeer’s voice echoed again.
Encrid, rolling backward, rose up. Mid-roll, he had used the momentum to steady his stance.
Blood trickled from his forehead, torn at some unknown point.
Overdeer spoke once more.
"I’ll say it again, I won’t kill you. But I will have to take at least a leg."
The subtle awkwardness in Prophet Overdeer’s tone no longer bothered him. He had no room to care about such things.
Audin could tell without exceptional insight that Encrid would falter. He wouldn’t die but would lose a limb.
"Sinar, to the other side."
Amid the battle, Encrid gave the command. Had he looked this way in the middle of all this?
Behind Audin, Alma was stealthily approaching.
The gleam of murder was clear in the eyes of the man with the hammer.
A corrupt look marked his gaze.
Sinar stood in front of him, lifting her Leaf Blade. A warning that she’d strike if Alma approached.
Audin frowned for the first time since that day Encrid, then a squad leader, had come into the barracks and met him.
Even when he decided to leave the Order, he hadn’t frowned like this, but now he couldn’t hide his emotions.
“Do nothing. Let him die. Just like he did to me.”
Phildin’s specter spoke. Audin watched the battle with bleary eyes.
Even after, Encrid continued to take blows.
Crack, thud, bang!
Sometimes he blocked, then took another hit.
In all of this, Encrid still did not retreat a single step.
Why? For what reason?
If he retreated, Overdeer would not pursue him.
"Enough. Leave me behind. Go on, Captain Brother."
Audin said, but no one heard. Or rather, perhaps Encrid did.
Wiping the blood that obscured his eyes, Encrid’s opponent briefly paused, catching his breath.
His face showed faint signs of weariness.
Encrid spoke in a quiet but resolute voice that everyone could hear.
"I do not accept futures crafted by others, and if I know something enforced by others is wrong, I will not turn a blind eye simply because I lack the strength."
By speaking his convictions as a Knight, he knew that not keeping his word would damage his Will.
At this moment, Encrid had declared with words, as well as actions.
He would not retreat.
Audin fully understood the meaning behind Encrid’s words.
Overdeer used his strength to demand Audin stay out of Order affairs.
To not dare intervene again, and Encrid would never accept that.
Encrid’s words and actions struck deeply into Audin’s heart.
Reckless as they were, they shone as brightly as the sun.
It was as though divine light from above cast its glow upon him through the purple twilight.
An illusion that only Audin could see.
"Stop."
Phildin’s voice said. His specter’s face was clear as day. The figure of his nightmare spoke more lucidly than ever.
Audin averted his gaze from the child he couldn’t save, the one he had forsaken. And he looked at the back of another person.
A person living solely by his own will.
This moment was an endless cycle of salvation and punishment for Audin, repeating life and death.
Dying and coming back to life.
Coming back to life and dying.
Not unlike the eternity of repeating the same day.
If Overdeer was punishment, then Encrid was salvation.
Audin’s hand trembled, then steadied.
What Encrid was doing now was blocking the Order’s judgment.
It wouldn’t make sense to silence everyone by killing them, so in the end, this would make him an enemy of the Order.
Refusing to yield to Overdeer’s will meant exactly that.
Looking down at the blood-stained ground, Audin opened his mouth, this time with a deep, weighty tone different from when he’d told them to stop.
"You’ll be hunted for the rest of your life."
Becoming an enemy of the Order meant exactly that.
Encrid’s answer came in the form of noise between the clash of their weapons.
So what? His answer seemed to say.
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