Originally, the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique taught to feign composure by kneeling on one knee without drawing the sword and calmly gazing at the opponent.
The most important aspects here were said to be the gaze and the position of the hands.
The grip of the sword must never be held; instead, the hand was to be left dangling.
When learning this, Encrid admired the persistence of the person who created this swordsmanship, thinking the level of deception was truly sincere.
And now, he had a different thought.
The Valen Mercenary Sword Technique was, to begin with, a swordsmanship based on willpower.
‘If you have the Will, you can not only deceive but also overwhelm.’
Could this be called an evolved form of Intimidation?
Encrid interpreted this in his own way and renamed it the ‘Deceptive Slash’.
There was no real need to name it, using it as it came naturally would suffice. He knew that. He learned it from Rem, everyone said so, and he had realized it himself.
But it was still challenging to make everything come naturally. Hence, it was more familiar for him to name the techniques and give form to the imagery.
You can’t walk without standing up. No one can leap while sitting down. The first step was to stand up.
Here, standing up meant defining and naming the technique at present.
The essence of Sinar’s energy blade helped him.
Energy was a blade formed by intangible power. Having experienced it countless times, he naturally reached this point.
Thus, this was also one of Sinar’s gifts.
In a way, it resembled the Aker’s Web Correct Sword Technique, but this time, the density was different.
He had to pour in considerable willpower as well.
His left foot pressed against the ground. A momentum as if to charge forward arose. Encrid’s dangling right hand swayed back and forth twice.
Thus, he drew out his Will to create a blade instead of a shield of iron walls. It was an illusory blade, invisible, nonexistent, and leaving not even a scratch if touched, yet it fell toward Pel.
“Damn it!”
Pel unsheathed the Idol Slayer and swung it. It was a sword they had agreed not to draw during training. His blade sliced through empty air.
* * *
“What is this?”
Even while standing face to face and staring at Encrid for a moment, cold sweat poured down Pel’s forehead and back.
He had clearly seen Encrid charging at him, splitting his head with an enormous, suddenly magnified body and blade.
Instinctively, he swung his sword.
'But nothing happened.'
Pel wasn’t the only one who reacted. If Encrid’s attack had been real, it would have been crude enough to sweep bystanders within its range with a massive swing.
Naturally, Luagarne also reacted nearby.
She had already drawn her whip and sword, assuming a defensive stance.
“A reinterpretation of Valen Mercenary Swordsmanship’s scaring without a blade—Deceptive Slash.”
Encrid kindly answered. Although he reduced the process he had achieved to a simple sentence.
“So, what does that even mean?”
Pel rarely got agitated. He had just experienced something akin to death, albeit fake. Although it wasn’t real, his head had felt split open, and there was even something resembling pain.
It was impossible not to be agitated.
“Calm down.”
Encrid said, looking at Pel. To be precise, maintaining calm was the beginning. If the heart wavered, so would the body. Wasn’t this training to teach Pel?
Of course, he also aimed to improve his mastery of the technique. Along the way, he planned to learn from Pel as well.
Was it probing for openings? Identifying weak points? Either way, there was a process to learn and define Pel’s talents.
Nothing had only one advantage.
“What?”
“Start by observing calmly. You’re not actually dead, are you?”
To Pel, Encrid’s tone seemed like that of someone who had died countless times.
“It feels like I died and came back to life!”
A vein popped on Pel’s forehead. Encrid realized that the deaths he had experienced repeatedly added to the technique earlier.
It was only natural for his experience to be embedded into his swordsmanship.
'Has it become a slash that shows death to the opponent?'
Having experienced such a variety of deaths, it wasn’t hard to imprint it into his Will and display it.
Encrid carefully explained this and resumed the training duel.
“Again?”
Pel said, assuming his stance again despite his words. It was a rare experience. It felt like an evolved form of Intimidation. Hence, it intrigued him, even though experiencing death was utterly unsettling.
Afterward, Encrid killed Pel two more times.
Despite understanding its structure, Pel couldn’t find a way to counter it. Ironically, Luagarne discovered a method first.
She shifted her thought process, deciding to sacrifice an arm or leg to escape the pressure as long as her heart wasn’t pierced.
This wouldn’t easily work on Frog.
Thus, they spent the second evening, eventually falling asleep. Then, a ferryman appeared in Encrid’s dream. He gazed silently before uttering a single sentence.
“I have seen it.”
“What did you see?”
“Your future.”
Encrid, without intending to joke, reflexively uttered nonsense.
“A son? A daughter?”
“Did you even consider having children? Do you plan to marry and have kids someday?”
“No, I just made a joke since you mentioned seeing my future.”
Without Sinar, he was making Fairy-like jokes himself. This made him think he should hurry and find Sinar.
“Indeed, a steadfast one. I shall show you.”
The ferryman raised a hand unburdened by a lamp.
‘This ferryman feels different from the one I met before.’
It felt that way. The ferryman revealed his palm. A pitch-black hole suddenly expanded within his gray skin. It engulfed Encrid entirely, leaving him in utter darkness.
In that state, the ferryman’s voice resounded. No, to be precise, the intent stemming from his will was conveyed.
“In a dark cave, you will encounter an unyielding wall.”
Encrid focused on what came into view. Beyond the darkness, something was indeed there. As he stared, a faint outline emerged. Concentrating harder, he discerned the figure standing before him.
No face or smell was apparent, but Encrid could deduce the opponent’s identity from their silhouette.
It was too familiar to feign ignorance.
“That will become your wall.”
The ferryman’s voice carried a curse-like tone.
“I see.”
Yet curses often depended on the recipient. Encrid remained too calm.
At least he should have shown some agitation, but he didn’t.
One of the effects of a curse was to deeply unsettle the recipient’s heart. However, Encrid merely contemplated indifferently.
From the silhouette, it was clear the person was female. Without hesitation, he identified the figure as Sinar, the goal he was pursuing.
It was rare.
Encrid had countless conversations with ferrymen. However, none had ever kindly explained anything.
Thus, Encrid had become adept at finding clues from short exchanges.
‘It’s not “she”, but “that.”’
The ferryman did not call her the “wall”. He referred to it as “that”. It couldn’t have been a slip of the tongue.
This meant Sinar wasn’t the wall.
Encrid woke from the dream immediately, while the ferryman, who had cast Encrid out, retreated into himself briefly.
“Who molded him like that? I cast curses, and he shows no fear. How does he so adeptly exploit my words’ flaws?”
The ferryman muttered, having glimpsed some of Encrid’s inner thoughts.
Realizing the difference between “that” and “her” was highly displeasing.
All the ferrymen who had encountered Encrid so far fell silent.
Excitedly tormenting and pressuring him had contributed to making him who he was.
“They’ve created a sly serpent.”
The ferryman lamented.
* * *
Encrid cared little about last night’s dream or any walls the ferryman mentioned. Focusing on such words would hinder his work.
Furthermore, knowing a wall existed wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would make him turn back.
Thus, on the third day, they took a similar route and continued south. They passed through a small forest and an area piled with rocks when they heard a loud snoring sound from afar.
“Looks like some lunatic is sleeping on the road.”
Pel remarked. Luagarne tilted her head curiously. Whoever was sleeping, Encrid kept walking.
Eventually, they saw a creature leaning against a large boulder.
Its size defied perspective.
A Giant, known as the Red Blood Beasts, moved on two legs.
As Encrid approached, the snoring creature wrinkled its snout and slowly opened its eyes.
Its pupils were vividly blue. Greasy, matted hair clung to its scalp, suggesting it hadn’t approached water in at least two weeks.
A foul stench emanated accordingly. Around it lay bone fragments and scraps of hide.
“Burp.”
The Giant let out a belch, releasing a stench that reached Encrid. Even sitting, the Giant’s height exceeded Encrid’s.
Encrid instinctively looked up. As he slightly raised his head and met the Giant’s gaze, it spoke in a humorless tone.
“Blue eyes.”
Its thunderous voice echoed. The sound waves seemed to ripple outward from its massive body.
Pel frowned at the odor, comparable to animal dung.
“You’re blue, too.”
Encrid replied, equally devoid of humor.
“Yeah, I know. Smartass.”
The Giant rose from the boulder. The rock shifted backward, its sheer weight and strength evident.
Giants supposedly sank like stones in water, too heavy to float.
Frog feared a damaged heart, Giants feared water. While they could drink and bathe, bodies of water like lakes made them uneasy. Here, with no flowing water nearby, the Giant showed no such apprehension.
Displaying its pitch-black teeth, the Giant spoke.
“What’s your name?”
“Why ask?”
Pel interjected. The Giant turned to Pel.
“Wait your turn. After him.”
The Giant pointed at Encrid.
“What comes after?”
“Your death. So, after him, I’ll kill you.”
“Who are you killing?”
Luagarne interjected, and the Giant smiled as it repeated.
“Encrid, isn’t it?”
Encrid answered calmly.
“Didn’t expect to meet someone on the road. Do we know each other? Or did someone introduce you? Was it perhaps a hooded man with a lamp?”
Encrid asked.
The Giant chuckled quietly before answering.
“You should’ve acted more carefully.”
“Not someone I know, then. How’d you know I’d come here? That’s what I’m curious about.”
Encrid maintained his composed demeanor, ignoring the Giant’s words.
“If you act like that, you meet assassins and worse. If luck’s truly rotten, you meet me.”
In conclusion, each said their piece. Then, Encrid abruptly asked.
“Are you old?”
“Very.”
“How old?”
“Over a hundred.”
“Only?”
“You insolent human.”
“A woman I know is over four hundred.”
What was the point?
The conversation lacked direction, devolving into nonsensical remarks. Yet, strangely, the Giant felt irritated.
Was this human fearless, or was he relying on something? Perhaps Frog? That Frog posed no real threat. What was the reason behind this prolonged thinking?
The words, the demeanor, the tone—all of it grated on the Giant.
“You won’t die peacefully. I’ll devour you alive.”
“I’ll kill you peacefully. Should I wrap your head and send it somewhere?”
“Graaah!”
The Giant suddenly roared at the sky. It was a cry potent enough to freeze anyone in place.
Some monsters instilled fear through howling, this was similar.
A skill rooted in willpower.
Encrid naturally activated his Will of refusal, repelling it.
Pel exhaled deeply and stepped back, while Luagarne retreated two steps further before leaping back to increase the distance.
One roar was enough to gauge the Giant’s strength, Knight-class.
Encrid knew before the roar, his instincts triggered by its posture.
As Encrid gripped the hilt of Jin-silver sword, the Giant spoke again.
“Keep talking.”
“Wrapping. Where. Graceful killing.”
Encrid mocked the Giant as if teasing Rem.
The Giant disliked how his roar had no effect and the insolent tone.
“I am Hatun, Apostle of the Demon Realm Sanctuary!”
The Giant declared, extending its hand. It was crafty, hiding its weapon behind the boulder.
The weapon it drew was a whip in form but more accurately described as a massive metal chain.
Whoosh!
The chain tore through the air, smashing the spot where Encrid stood.
Boom!
The ground erupted as soil and rocks scattered. The impact was so powerful that embedded stones were uprooted and flung.
To call these stones pebbles would make the sun merely a firefly.
Thump!
Pel deflected an incoming rock with his sword. It was heavy. The deflected rock fell to the ground with a thud.
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