"It's something you get used to as you do it."
It was Rem who spoke next. Rarely, Ragna paused mid-sentence, chewed over his words a few times, and then continued at length.
He, too, had heard, learned, and realized things while staying here.
He had gained a sense of reason that wouldn't let him end things just by swinging his sword forcefully, like some people did. Or perhaps, he had developed a sense of consideration.
"If you believe in yourself, that's enough. You choose a path and walk it. If you believe that path is the right one, then no matter how much others say it's wrong, you just ignore them. And even if you stray a little, you can always adjust your course to make it the right one. For example, say we need to go this way to reach Martai, but we mistakenly head in this direction instead. If we realize the mistake along the way, we can just turn back like this. Then we’ll still arrive in Martai. That’s all that matters. So, in the end, the path I take becomes the right path."
When Ragna first said "this way", he pointed north.
Then, when he said "mistakenly head in this direction", he pointed west. And when he gestured to turn back, his hand finally ended up pointing south.
If Martai was strictly speaking in the east, then he had managed to point in every direction except the correct one with remarkable skill.
"That bastard is seriously something else. How do you even find your way to Eitri? No, wait, how do you even make it to the bathroom? It’s amazing that you don’t get lost halfway there."
The toilet was within fifty steps from the lodging. Stones had been laid out along the path leading there.
It was a considerate touch. Encrid suddenly had a thought.
‘Wait, when and who even laid those stones down?’
There was no need to think too hard.
‘Krais.’
Compared to Ragna, it was like having a walking signpost.
But finding the bathroom was one thing, Ragna sometimes went into the city alone as well.
"How do you think he does it? There are plenty of soldiers along the way. I ordered them to stick to him the moment they see him heading out."
Krais spoke while grilling sausages. The juices beaded up like sweat on the surface, releasing a rich aroma.
‘Ah, right. Krais existed.’
Rem nodded. That lunatic would probably prepare for a meteor striking the Border Guard tomorrow if it came to it.
‘There’s no such thing as normal here. None at all.’
Rem shook his head.
"Don't have the soldiers follow me. It's annoying."
"Endure it."
Ragna protested, but Krais firmly shook his head. By now, Krais had fully adjusted to these people.
He was too busy to cater to every little whim, and if he tried, every day would be a battlefield.
These lunatics, or Knights if you wanted to be generous, generally listened to him—, as long as he didn't cross certain lines they'd set.
To Krais, if Ragna was left alone, he might end up wandering all the way to the Empire and returning with the flames of war.
He would probably just cut down everything in his path.
That wasn’t to say Rem or Audin were any saner than Ragna. If Rem were left to his own devices, it would be a miracle if he didn't beat up the newly arrived nobles in the Border Guard. Audin was no better.
‘Training the body is fine and all, but why do you push it so much, you bear-brained bastard?’
Krais swallowed his complaints without much thought.
Audin would grab people at random and force them to train. Once he got a hold of you, running away wasn’t even an option.
And with that giant build of his, he’d smile and call everyone "brother" or "sister", there was definitely some madness in him.
Perhaps that was why the Holy Unit under Audin’s command had the most intense training regimen.
They lifted stones even as they wept. They sat in invisible chairs while praying to their god.
Sometimes, Krais would watch them and feel a pang of sympathy.
‘Poor bastards.’
Still, in truth, Krais didn't really see all of this as a complaint.
Because the benefits of having Audin, Rem, and Ragna far outweighed the inconveniences.
Krais was the type of person who was satisfied if the gains were greater.
Jaxon was also present. He didn't seem to have any advice to give, yet he still managed to draw everyone's attention.
He spun the dagger in his hand. The blade whirled, reflecting the firelight from the torches on either side of the table.
Spinning his dagger, Jaxon finally spoke.
"There’s no such thing as a 'perfect' person. It's just a matter of who is sharper."
A short but powerful piece of advice. Encrid felt as though it had struck at the core of his own philosophy.
‘What beats a perfectly completed circle?’
Would developing all-around abilities to become well-rounded be the ultimate goal?
No. A round shape could still be pierced by a sharp needle.
He had experienced that firsthand today.
In regular duels, he could beat Sinar eight times out of ten.
But when it came to Wave-Blocking Sword, her blade had grazed his shoulder.
That was her sharp needle.
Wave-Blocking Sword was not about a specific type of swing or swordsmanship. It was about responding through instinct and thought.
Sinar had exploited the gaps in his reaction time.
‘Phantom Blade.’
Between the blades he could perceive, she had hidden an unseen one.
Winter Mountain Breeze.
Winter carries fierce gales, not gentle breezes. So if a soft breeze blows in winter, it is an anomaly.
"Brother, can you calculate everything? You cannot. So, if you stay a step ahead of your opponent, do you really need to act naturally or find the right answer instantly? Does your technique need to come out reflexively?"
Audin answered his question with another question.
‘Calculate everything?’
That was impossible. So, all he had to do was be superior to his opponent.
Audin’s words meant that one should always have the right tool at hand when needed.
Sometimes, be gentle. Sometimes, be aggressive. Be firm, heavy, deceptive, swift, and fluid.
It was becoming clear why the genius Leonesis Oniac had divided swordsmanship into five styles.
‘If you master the basics, you can catch up to everything else.’
Before training in Wave-Blocking Sword, Encrid had been different from who he was now.
Obviously, he had changed from before becoming a Knight as well.
Some aspects of a person never change, but others do.
Encrid had found part of the answer in Audin’s question.
"In the end, it all comes down to swordsmanship, huh?"
If he had to summarize, that was the conclusion.
"What do you mean?"
Teresa, who had been listening, asked.
Audin answered.
"In the end, it means you punch with your fists, slash with your sword, and stab with your spear. So, sister, just focus on training the basics."
Stick to the fundamentals. Train every day. Find the answer not with your mind, but with your body.
Audin rephrased his words to make them clearer.
Everyone had their own ideals and convictions.
Encrid absorbed every word like a dry sponge soaking up water.
‘Calculating everything is just another way of doing what Rem does.’
Rem instantly grasped every situation and made the most rational, lethal choice.
If this were rock-paper-scissors, he could predict his opponent's move before they made it.
That meant his perception was just that sharp, his reaction time extraordinary.
‘As good as a beastman.’
If beastmen were more analytical, they could fight like Rem. They had an instinctive control over their bodies.
Rem simply replaced that with his own talent.
Ragna’s words were complicated, but the message was clear.
‘You can take detours. Just don’t leave regrets on the path you've already chosen.’
If you’ve already swung your sword, then you need the resolve to make a wrong path the right one.
‘Belief.’
A Knight who loses confidence will crumble under the weight of defeat. Especially if their oath is broken, doubt will consume them.
‘A Knight without belief is only half a Knight.’
Ragna was a genius. His brilliance was astonishing. So it was natural that he could say such things.
And that didn’t mean his words weren’t useful to Encrid. He listened, pondered, and absorbed.
Jaxon’s words meant not to overestimate an opponent.
Audin’s words meant that solid training was the answer.
Different words, but the same meaning.
They were words that benefited Encrid, as well as Luagarne, Lawford, Pel, and Teresa.
"Forging your own path, that's what makes a true master."
Luagarne, the researcher, added.
"That’s right."
Encrid agreed casually and popped a piece of meat into his mouth.
The sizzling fat dripped onto the skewered pork belly, which had been grilled to perfection. He blew on it briefly before taking a bite, and it melted in his mouth.
The salt and spices, sprinkled in just the right amount, blended with the fat, delivering a tingling sensation of flavor.
Slowly roasted to tenderness, the meat tore apart easily between his teeth, embracing his tongue with its rich taste.
‘Mmm.’
It was an excellent dish, truly excellent.
Sinar nibbled on a few well-ripened fruits, and objectively speaking, even that simple act made her look like a goddess.
"If all else fails, let’s start the Sinar Knights. Gathering people wouldn’t even be a challenge. But more importantly, Sinar, have you ever heard of a salon? I recently met some fairies, and I thought it would be good for them to gain some experience working across the continent. In that case, they could work at a salon. Later on, we could gather only fairies and establish a salon of our own. It would help them adapt to life on the continent."
Krais spoke, his eyes shining even brighter than the firelight.
"There is one clan that might be interested in such things. A clan that comes from the Ermen Family, you’ve probably already met them."
Sinar responded. She was the fairy who represented her people in trade. Naturally, Krais had seen them before.
Krais, in a rare display, furrowed his brows and showed his displeasure.
Everyone wondered why.
"That fairy talks too much."
Ah, it was disdain for his own kind. Encrid concluded as much. So did everyone else.
"I do not speak for my people; I protect them. So, they should be free to follow their own will and choices."
Sinar said, turning her gaze to Encrid.
Meanwhile, Lawford muttered as if to himself.
"A natural, unconscious movement of the sword always becomes the right answer."
That was the condition for an advanced Knight. Pel picked up on those words, his brow deeply furrowed.
"What does that even mean?"
He himself had glimpses of that talent, which only made it harder for him to accept.
How could every single movement always be correct?
Swinging and thrusting a sword involved probabilities, which meant that luck played a role.
Could someone always have luck on their side? What about variables?
‘So, you're saying to turn every path into the right one?’
Was that even possible? Was it just a difference in talent?
All sorts of thoughts ran through Pel’s mind. These were questions that had no immediate answers.
Sinar was the one to respond to Pel's question.
"How? With the power of love."
Encrid wondered if this fairy had taken some strange drug today. Or maybe she had been drinking.
But no, she looked just as neat and composed as always.
She had recently helped with the last migration of her people, so she might have been exhausted, but she hadn’t indulged in anything strange.
Then what was with her behavior today?
"You're excited."
Luagarne spoke with a woman’s intuition. And she was right.
Sinar had a duty, because of it, she couldn't leave her city, Kirhais.
So she had brought the entire city with her. If that hadn’t been possible, she would have pushed to rename it Ermen instead of Kirhais.
Regardless, her duty, the oath she had sworn to uphold for life, had kept her away from the Border Guard for a long time.
She had escaped the grasp of a demon, and the man who had saved her from that demon was here, yet she couldn’t stay by his side.
It wasn’t outright frustrating, but it was stifling. And that stifling feeling made her impatient.
Among the fairies, this was already well-known gossip.
It was also the reason why, in the past month, more fairies had been sneaking over walls at night to get closer to Encrid.
The odds were simply better when Sinar wasn't around.
But even without her, they couldn’t do anything to Encrid.
And besides, the existence of the Black Flower, a witch, had been a deterrent to the fairies.
Among the elder fairies, those who, in human society, would be considered elders or sages, there was a strong belief that wizards were servants of demons.
That prejudice came from the past, from when some wizards and witches had sided with demons during the great war.
To fairies, who lived in a closed-off society, witches were incredibly dangerous beings.
Of course, Esther had never once considered impaling fairy bones and displaying their corpses on stakes.
Even if she did kill fairies, she wouldn’t waste her time on something so pointless.
Regardless, as Sinar now sat across from Encrid, she was quite pleased.
After such a long time, she was finally able to tease him again, and she was feeling unusually enthusiastic about it.
So, to be precise, she wasn’t acting strangely because of drugs, she was simply excited.
That said, from the outside, her behavior might as well have been the result of taking something.
"If you’re really curious, come to my quarters tonight. I'll teach you everything. Absolutely everything. With the power of love."
The fact that she said this so nonchalantly, with a perfectly calm expression, was what made it terrifying.
Her face resembled that of a goddess’ sister, yet she spoke in such a way that made one question her sanity.
Encrid felt chills, not the kind from excitement, but from a different kind of horror.
"Should I just knock her out?"
He asked seriously. There was no better way to shut her up.
"Is that really necessary?"
Rem chimed in.
And of course, Ragna had to say something too.
"Go take a walk outside. Just don't get lost."
He tossed the words at Sinar.
"May your god watch over you, Sister."
Audin added.
Jaxon spun his dagger. Then, out of nowhere, he asked,
"Are you going to keep using that dreadful, ugly dagger?"
He wouldn’t have said that unless something about it truly bothered him.
"It's a Horn-Trumpet Dagger. Not an ugly one. It fits my hand better than anything else."
Encrid answered flatly.
Jaxon didn't respond, simply ignored it. He didn’t like it, but it seemed he wouldn’t press the matter any further.
"Spells carry intent. A spell without intent is trash. But as you grow accustomed to magic, you start casting spells with just gestures. Instead of intent coming first, the reaction comes first. A spell that bursts forth instinctively in any situation, that's called a Glint."
Esther interjected, explaining that Glint meant "a sudden flash of light".
Today, she had taken on her human form, flaunting her black hair.
She had given Encrid an answer to his question. But why were her cheeks turning red?
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