"Why are you staring like that?"
Grida asked, tilting her head slightly.
Ragna’s mouth opened instinctively.
"What about my eyes?"
Come to think of it, this brat of a younger sibling had always been like this since childhood. Though, this was the first time Ragna had seen those eyes opened like that.
"I said, why are you staring like that?"
A faint fighting spirit flickered in Grida’s gaze as she spoke. Though there was a considerable age difference between them, they had both picked up the sword at the same time.
Wasn't the reason Ragna had first grabbed a sword to avoid getting beaten up more?
There was a time like that. Memories from childhood, when he had just learned to walk and was beginning to perceive the world.
Of course, Grida’s memories had no reason to be Ragna’s as well.
"It’s my choice."
Ragna answered without blinking once. It had been less than a month after he first picked up the sword before he no longer needed to be beaten.
Still, it was annoying. His eyes, his tone—everything about him was irritating.
Grida's right hand lowered slightly before rising back up. She opened her fingers loosely before gripping tightly, and before she knew it, the grip of a sword was in her grasp.
Ping—
The blade that left its sheath shot toward its target. The dazzlingly white blade scattered sunlight, obscuring Ragna’s vision.
If he failed to dodge, he’d have to pay in blood. The blade’s trajectory was bold, soaring upward before suddenly plunging down in a vertical drop. Then, like a swallow in flight, it veered towards his forearm.
Clang!
Ragna twisted his left foot, drawing his greatsword halfway out to block Grida’s attack. Then, as he fully unsheathed it, he slashed upward.
The exchange surprised him. Twice.
First, they were siblings who had grown up clashing swords since childhood. This was their way of greeting each other. Grida’s attack had been nothing more than a light greeting.
‘Dodging?’
As a child, Ragna had never known how to dodge.
"Dodge? Why? I just have to counter it."
That was simply Ragna’s nature. Within their household, some had once speculated he might become the greatest pioneer of the family, though they also acknowledged his flaw.
‘Too stubborn.’
His persistence was relentless, too relentless.
There were times when one needed to take a step back, but Ragna only looked forward.
To truly master the sword, one had to move and strike fluidly, like water flowing. That was the teaching passed down from their ancestors.
But Ragna found it tedious and only repeated what he was used to.
This reminded Grida of the first time Encrid had seen Ragna. That younger brother she had known, he had always been like that.
And yet, now, he was deflecting attacks.
It was a flowing sword style, a technique more akin to the opposite of the Middle Sword Technique.
It was an unexpected movement from Ragna. Then, there was something else surprising.
Grida hastily gripped her sword with both hands, bracing against Ragna’s pressure.
Kaga—kagak— Drdrdrk!
She couldn’t block it with one hand alone.
‘How much stronger did he get?’
That brute of a younger brother.
From the outside, Ragna’s motion of raising his greatsword seemed light and effortless.
But Grida, who was on the receiving end, felt cold sweat trickling down her back.
Thud!
In the end, Grida disengaged and leaped backward.
Woosh—
Ragna’s greatsword cleaved through the space she had just occupied, halting midair with its tip aimed toward the sky.
One-handed, he held the massive sword and gazed at her.
A moment ago, his eyes had been like those of the barbarian, Rem—but now, they were different.
‘He keeps surprising me.’
That was the third thing that caught her off guard. There was a clear will in Ragna’s eyes.
He was a younger brother who had left the family because he found walking the predetermined path too dull.
Back then, his gaze had been as lifeless as a rotten ghoul, as if everything was tedious, boring, and devoid of joy.
He had once seen wielding a sword as mere labor.
Yet now, deep within his eyes, Grida saw a spark, the same burning flame she had once glimpsed in the madman, Encrid.
With her keen eye for observation, she could see it clearly.
‘What the hell happened?’
Grida readjusted her grip on her sword. Instead of asking with words, she would ask with her blade.
* * *
Encrid stood alone in the training ground, swinging his sword, lost in thought.
Would focusing entirely on sword training open a path?
Would filling his mind with nothing but swordsmanship be enough? Would that be the solution?
No.
One had to let their mind roam free.
If one thought solely about swordsmanship, it would become a prison. By letting his thoughts flow naturally, new insights would emerge, so that was what Encrid did.
And naturally, his mind drifted to the missing member.
Ragna had been absent for a month now, but no one was worried. He would return on his own.
‘Grida remembers faces she sees often, and Ragna remembers the general geography of the barracks.’
To be precise, it wasn’t that he knew the roads, he had memorized the entire landscape.
If needed, he’d climb trees or leap across rooftops to find his way back.
Even if he couldn't find his way on the ground, he’d navigate just fine from above.
Perhaps he had left the city, but that was unlikely.
Just as Jaxon made routine trips to the city, Ragna would occasionally head to the market to waste time in his own way.
Everyone assumed he was probably at the market, stuffing himself with food, finding a warm place to lean against, dozing off, and lazing around as usual.
And honestly, that assumption wasn’t far from the truth.
Encrid had thought the same. So he had set aside any concern for Ragna.
His mind then skimmed through the past month.
The usual training, the usual drills and then, the three from the House of Zaun had arrived.
‘Zaun.’
He had observed, listened, and learned from them. It had inspired him.
Though, if Krais had known, he would have scoffed.
"Even Jurie, who sells marmalade in the market, knows the Captain has always been like this."
Wouldn’t he say something like that?
Regardless, whether it was Jaxon, Rem, or anyone else, no one in Encrid’s circle was the type to settle for comfort. And he found that incredibly satisfying.
The three from Zaun were like butter on a well-toasted slice of white bread.
Thanks to them, his satisfaction had only grown.
"Perception, calculation, anticipation."
As he reflected, Encrid repeated Jaxon’s words. The thoughts bounced around in his mind before settling into clarity.
"Observe the opponent and assess the environment."
That was perception.
"Trace possible attack trajectories."
That was calculation.
"Predict the consequences of your actions."
That was anticipation.
Jaxon had explained the fundamentals of assassination, a principle that still remained the core of his technique.
"What I first learned is within this, and what I use now hasn’t strayed from it."
So, what had Encrid learned from that?
The basics.
Doing what he already did, but doing it better. That was what he needed right now.
Perception, calculation, anticipation. He had been rigorously refining these recently.
But there was a flaw.
‘Overloading the brain with calculations shortens the duration of combat efficiency.’
That wasn’t the path Wave-Blocking Sword sought. But was Wave-Blocking Sword the only correct answer?
No.
"Finish the calculations in an instant."
Encrid’s mind flashed with memories, his duels with Rem, his sparring with Audin, his mental battles with Jaxon.
All of it converged into a single realization.
The moment he had blocked an incoming arrow, the moment he had detected Rem’s sling projectile.
Everything in this world existed in a fleeting moment. Within the stretched-out time, one had to capture the moment and react accordingly.
‘An attack only has meaning if it lands.’
Flash— a burst of light.
It wasn’t just about being fast; it was about embedding speed within precise calculations. Only then could one truly embody the essence of a flash.
The execution of such an attack was the instantaneous eruption of light. Its method was speed refined through calculation.
As for the training method—
‘Swing the sword with tactical thought in every improvised moment.’
And never forget speed, no matter the circumstance.
It was a path that sounded difficult to anyone who heard it, but to Encrid, who had found his way, it was an overwhelming thrill. His whole body trembled with excitement.
"What’s wrong with him all of a sudden?"
From a corner of the training ground, Magrun, who had been studying swordsmanship, looked at Encrid and asked.
Encrid was trembling all over, even drooling. Anyone could see that he was intoxicated with euphoria.
To an outsider, he would look like nothing but a madman.
One moment, he was swinging his sword and thinking, the next, he was training alone, and now this. It was far from normal.
Even among the House of Zaun, where peculiar individuals were not uncommon, there was no one quite as extreme as him.
To Magrun, this was an incomprehensible type of human being.
"Just leave him be. He’s just excited."
Rem, having seen this a few times before, responded calmly.
"Does this kind of thing happen often in the West?"
"What do you mean, ‘happen often’? The West is just a place where people live, you idiot."
Rem snapped irritably before walking away.
‘Then… does that mean he’s not human?’
Magrun’s confusion deepened.
Meanwhile, Encrid, who had been lost in rapture, came back to his senses.
Now that his direction was set, only training remained. Then, he recalled Jaxon’s final principle.
A teaching that warned against complacency and arrogance at any given moment.
"Preparation isn’t the end. The last step is retreat. If there’s no opening, why charge in? If no opening presents itself, pull back for a moment. Of course, even in retreat, you must know how far to withdraw, where to stop, and what damage you can afford to take."
In other words, one shouldn’t become so intoxicated with attack that they forget to look back.
Jaxon meant it as a warning not to throw one’s life away carelessly, though ultimately, how one interpreted it was up to them.
‘Don’t get so absorbed in technique that you forget to look back.’
That was something Encrid had learned from todays’ repetitions.
He had once been so fixated on striking that he hadn’t thought about what came after. Hadn't he vowed never to make that mistake again?
As he was training in the Flash Sword Technique, Ragna and Grida entered the training ground.
It had been a month since Ragna’s last appearance.
"Why were you trembling and drooling earlier? Is something wrong with your body?"
Magrun spoke without even turning his head.
Rem simply continued sharpening his axe on a whetstone, muttering to himself.
Audin, after a brief glance, went back to assisting Pel and Lawford in their training.
A short silence filled the air, broken only by Audin’s voice.
"Didn’t you say the first to shout loses? I shall assist you both with my humble strength. The Lord shall watch over us, brothers."
Pel and Lawford, each holding a wooden rod in their mouths, visibly paled.
And for good reason. They knew what was about to happen.
Whoosh.
Audin swung a specially crafted iron club—smooth, thick, and about the size of an average adult's forearm.
BANG!
The sound came from Lawford’s thigh, clad only in thin training trousers.
"He endured it."
Teresa, observing as the judge, remarked in a composed tone. Her eyes were sharp, her demeanor utterly serious.
"Good."
Audin, pleased, turned to the next target, lifting his club once more.
Pel hesitated for a moment. Should he admit defeat?
No. He couldn’t.
But in the time he spent debating, Audin had already swung.
BANG!
One strike each, fair and square.
From a distance, Luagarne, who had been swinging her whip and sword while sweating profusely, muttered.
"You’re back."
And that was it.
Ragna, too, entered without much fuss.
On one side, Odinkar had been engrossed in his solo training, but upon noticing Ragna, he picked up his sword.
"Yo."
A greeting.
"Odinkar."
Ragna raised his hand slightly in response. That was all he said.
From the way Odinkar greeted him so casually, it was clear he had completely assimilated into this place. His level of assimilation could put fairy techniques to shame.
Then, behind Ragna, Sinar entered and called out to Encrid.
"Fiance, let’s decide our child’s name today."
Yes, just another ordinary afternoon.
"Seriously, you’re all such weirdos."
Grida observed everything and muttered to herself.
Meanwhile, Ragna made his way between the mess hall and the bathhouse before heading toward Encrid.
"Perfect timing. I needed you."
Encrid welcomed him.
He had just devised the Flash Sword Technique, and his urge to test it was overwhelming.
Shing.
Ragna lifted his greatsword. Though Eitri had worked on it, its blade had become chipped. That was thanks to his fights against Penna and Grida.
Encrid drew his Three-Iron Sword.
Srrrng—
The sound of the blade leaving its sheath was crisp and clear. And then they sparred.
It was just another part of their daily routine.
"What’s the child’s name?"
"I’ve already decided."
During the exchange, Grida listened closely to Sinar’s words. Was there really a child?
But Encrid only responded by lifting his sword.
To Grida, that was proof enough, he really was insane.
"Three-Iron."
After much deliberation, Encrid had named his sword Three-Iron.
"It’s a miracle Odd-Eye hasn’t thrown a fit yet."
Rem commented as he looked at Encrid.
Encrid nodded, satisfied.
"Right? It’s a good name. Even Odd-Eye was so happy at first that he went wild."
"Your ears are damn convenient. I don’t even know why you still have them."
That was the highest praise Rem could give.
One day passed. Then another. Then three.
Even after Ragna’s return, nothing much changed.
Time flowed on in the same monotonous way that would seem boring to an outsider.
Then, one clear spring morning, free from rain or clouds, marked the beginning of the second month since Ragna’s return.
And Grida made a proposal to Encrid.
"Let’s have a proper match."
For two months, she had focused entirely on fundamental training rather than sparring.
Watching her, Encrid thought she resembled Eitri in her methods.
‘Like heating iron in the flames.’
Grida had tempered herself the same way.
No comments yet. Be the first to leave a review!