Audin thought he had postponed it earlier, so he even stopped rushing through the unit training to become a spectator.
Thanks to this, it was said that Audin's Holy Unit sang in unison, claiming the Lord had looked after them.
Though the God's name might not be Sinar, perhaps after being beaten by Audin, one might momentarily change the name of their God.
To Encrid, it was just a story that went in one ear and out the other.
He was too busy savoring everything Sinar was showing him to bother with such matters.
The unique swordsmanship of the Fairies constantly stimulated his inspiration.
For geniuses, it might merely be a process to show another direction of swordsmanship, but it was not so for Encrid.
His inspiration soared, and with it came euphoria that filled his entire being—a sensation one could feel only at moments of growth and progress.
It burned his soul like a piece of iron heated all day. How could it not be enjoyable?
"Be careful."
When Sinar appeared again, she raised her sword with a warning. The Leaf Blade transformed once more, its blade splitting into five branches and its surface widening. It resembled a poorly crafted fan.
Watching the Leaf Blade elongate, Encrid could sense the energy surging within it.
'Is it magical?'
After all, Naidil had been called an enchanted sword and a Fairy's companion weapon.
Knights used engraved weapons, and when they reached a level through enchantment, they used inherited weapons.
According to Luagarne, Frog used something called a fused weapon.
Beastmen and Giants similarly used engraved weapons, but their crafting methods differed somewhat, didn't they?
It was the same with Fairies.
The companion weapon changed shape according to her will. The energy dispersed, driving the transformation.
Though the altered blade seemed unsuitable for combat, the swordsmanship it displayed was extraordinary.
A horizontal slash with the blade was not only incredibly fast but also struck at angles difficult to block. The blade’s surface delivered impacts as if Teresa were striking with her shield at full force.
Even though Teresa was only at a Junior-Knight's level, being a half-blood Giant, her full-powered shield strikes carried undeniable power.
And yet, the blade's surface delivered strikes as swift as if it brushed past the resistance of the wind.
'The speed is the same whether slashing or striking.'
That seemed to be the crux. It could be described as swordsmanship that rode the wind.
If Spring Wind stirred the air and Summer Rain poured endlessly, this was flying on the wind.
Was that why it was named Autumn Leaves?
Because it resembled a falling leaf swayed by the wind?
Strikes and impacts flew and fell ceaselessly. If Spring was green and Summer was lush, today exuded red energy.
It was redder than the twilight glow, yet not the bright crimson of blood.
In any case, enduring it while enjoying the fun of the swordsmanship consumed the time, and before long, the sparring ended.
Sweat beaded on Sinar's forehead.
If a Fairy sweated in the middle of winter, it was evident how much effort she was putting into this sparring.
Encrid, thoroughly absorbed in the joy Sinar provided, asked.
"Is tomorrow winter?"
At this, Sinar responded with a faint smile.
"It will be interesting."
On the fourth day, what Sinar showed was winter swordsmanship. Its name was Ember.
Naidil's blade, held by Sinar, became thin and delicate, like an Ember Encrid once held. The swordsmanship she demonstrated matched the name Ember perfectly.
The blade, emitting a white glow, vanished in an instant like a fleeting ember, flying in as a flash.
A series of rapid thrusts that ignored defense, focusing solely on swift, deadly strikes.
If Summer Rain drained stamina and forced defense by pouring endless blows, this was a style where failure to block would result in an immediate wound somewhere on the body. Every strike was fatal, focusing entirely on offense rather than defense.
On the flip side, because every strike was fatal, it left gaps in defense.
If none of the strikes hit, even the wielder would be left vulnerable—a swordsmanship perfectly befitting the name Ember.
In the Fairy language, Naidil meant Spring Sword, while Nidil meant Winter Sword.
Delving deeper into the language, "Dre-" pronounced long, meant sword. However, the Fairies used a mix of intonations, short and long vowels in their language. So even if one pronounced it as "Drel", not all meanings would translate to sword.
For a human like Encrid, understanding up to this point was sufficient.
The embers that flew were fast, sharp, and small enough to disappear if one lost focus for a moment.
Even within the realm of concentration, only the tip of the blade was visible.
Encrid, focused, blocked, parried, and dodged. Then, at some point, he heard Sinar's voice.
"Once you surpass Ember, it becomes a meteor."
Though Sinar's thrusts were fierce, as she wasn’t serious, Encrid managed to block them.
Sinar's sword was genuinely sharp and pointed.
A twisted blade grazed his cheek, and blood streamed down Encrid's face.
"That was dangerous."
Audin commented. Seiki, who had somehow become a spectator, stepped in to sprinkle light on Encrid’s cheek.
"It’ll heal quickly."
"No need to fuss."
"Considering how many people would be upset if your face was scarred."
Seiki made an unnecessary comment. Despite the light, the wound on the cheek didn’t heal instantly. As rumored, Seiki’s divine skills were still unrefined. Much of the light was wasted.
"Are you enjoying this?"
Sinar asked, looking at Encrid with an indifferent gaze. Encrid nodded, a faint smile on his face.
Despite the cut on his cheek, experiencing the Fairies' Seasonal Swordsmanship filled him with inspiration.
The new swords and techniques stimulated him. These weren’t crude skills but the culmination of generations of Fairy craftsmanship.
"Then that's enough."
Sinar replied, smiling faintly. Her indifferent gaze softened, showing a hint of satisfaction.
That night, just before bed, Sinar summoned Encrid.
"What's the matter?"
"Let’s take a walk."
Encrid complied with her words.
"Going on a midnight date?"
Rem quipped from behind. Encrid didn’t reply and moved forward. Rem wasn’t expecting an answer anyway.
It was just a reflexive joke upon seeing them together.
It wasn’t unusual. Sinar often sought Encrid’s company, recently to request warmth against the cold.
Walking outside, the stars were barely visible due to the thick clouds. The moonlight was faint.
Would it snow the next day?
The cold air made it clear that it was the middle of winter.
Their long, faint breaths lingered in the air, as the human and Fairy quietly strolled, enjoying the walk.
The air carried a hint of moisture from the night wind. It wasn’t bad for walking.
Winter birds chirped occasionally, and as they passed a patch of hardy grass, Sinar stopped.
"So resilient."
She commented, observing the grass before turning. Despite the darkness, they could pinpoint each other’s eyes with precision—a sensitivity enabling them to do so.
Her normally blue-green eyes faintly glimmered in the darkness.
With their gazes locked, Sinar spoke in a calm tone.
"Do you truly have no intention of marrying me?"
It was refreshing. She rarely joked recently, and now this was what she said after summoning him.
"Have we been intimate enough for that?"
"Did it trouble you?"
"Seems like it did."
"Then did it please you?"
Encrid recalled the first time he heard a Fairy-style joke.
'It was just before meeting Leona, wasn’t it?'
It was the sort of day one wouldn’t forget. He’d been so flustered that he wanted to kick Jaxon, who laughed at him.
"No, I don’t."
Encrid answered, scratching his cheek. It wasn’t a difficult question, just another one of her usual mischievous jokes.
"I see."
Sinar turned with a smileless face. For the past four days, she had demonstrated swordsmanship like a mad Fairy.
"It was fun."
She muttered as she turned away.
The tone of her words was starkly different from when he first heard them.
"It was fun."
She had said the same when she first teased him, but now, as she turned and spoke, her words carried no emotion.
If her words had conveyed any lingering feelings, Encrid might have asked why.
But they didn’t, so he simply let her go.
The Fairy walked away with her usual stride, at her usual pace, and her usual speed.
Three days later, Sinar vanished.
Encrid thought nothing of it initially, but as the days passed, Sinar didn’t return.
"She left a letter?"
It was during the morning break after training that Krais delivered the news.
"Where did you find it?"
"I peeked into her room since she’d been absent for three days."
"Oh, right."
Technically, Sinar belonged to the Mad Knights.
So no one could really question her departure, but Krais probably checked her room because it was left unused.
Likely, he had his lover do it for him.
Encrid grasped the situation and looked at the letter.
It seemed Sinar had anticipated someone would read the letter in her absence. On the envelope, elegant handwriting was visible.
“To Encrid. Anyone else reading this will become a sprouting potato.”
A curse.
Seeing the Fairy-style insult, Encrid opened the letter. He broke the wax seal with his hand and pulled out the paper inside.
The paper didn’t seem particularly expensive. The content was simple.
“I’ll be waiting for you to come propose to me.”
Encrid let out a small laugh.
To deliver a joke even in her parting words, what an unbeatable Fairy she was.
"What does it say?"
Krais asked. Encrid flipped the letter to show him.
"Should I call this impressive? But why did she leave without saying anything?"
"She must have her reasons."
Though she technically belonged to the Mad Knights, Sinar wasn’t truly affiliated with the kingdom.
Encrid also remembered something Krang had said once.
What was that duty about?
Encrid didn’t worry much about Sinar leaving. It was her decision and choice, and he respected it.
It would have been the same for anyone else. Just as when Dunbachel had gone to the east, he chose to accept it in his heart.
That was all there was to it.
Life proceeded uneventfully.
“It’s time for training.”
In the morning, he tightened and stretched his muscles alongside Audin.
“Stay focused. Today, we’ll go even harder.”
He sparred with Rem.
“Everyone, run.”
He devoted himself to training the unit. The only difference was that he now spent more time meditating.
‘Precise sword, heavy sword, deceptive sword, fast sword, soft sword!’
Leonesis Oniac, a genius, had classified swordsmanship into five categories.
‘Are these five all there is to swordsmanship?’
No.
Even if one were to go back in time and ask Leonesis directly, the answer would likely be the same.
‘The five are the basics.’
Derivatives are separate.
Everything he had learned, studied, and reflected on until now, along with the Seasonal Swordsmanship of the Fairies, came together.
Sinar had deliberately excluded environmental factors, focusing solely on the pure artistry of swordsmanship.
‘It was a performance-oriented swordsmanship.’
The four Seasonal Swordsmanship techniques, representing the seasons, each had a unique form. They couldn’t be defined solely within the five concepts of precise, heavy, deceptive, fast, and soft.
Basics, derivatives, and experience.
When these elements blended, something clicked in Encrid’s mind.
The inspiration gifted by Sinar ripened and bore fruit.
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