He sparred with those who had come rushing in droves, and afterward, he ate well and rested well.
Even in the following days, many people came to see him, and what they said was mostly the same.
“It’s really fun training together. Can’t you stay in Zaun?”
Some expressed their fondness without hesitation.
“Thank you. And I suppose I should also apologize.”
Others spoke more earnestly.
The former words came from the younger ones, while the latter came from those who were at least a bit older.
Additionally, both groups were pure in their words and actions, without any pretense.
The ones who wanted to stay together repeatedly asked why he had to leave and begged him to stay.
Those offering thanks and apologies bowed their heads and said that, though they wouldn’t go so far as to become slaves, he could call on them if needed.
Occasionally, someone would shyly admit their feelings.
“How about me instead of Riley?”
A few even made such serious offers. Then came even more unusual proposals.
“Since Riley offered to be your slave, I was thinking of becoming your wife.”
It was a woman of the House of Zaun whose name he didn’t even know.
She said she was talented but dreamed more of becoming a wise mother.
Apparently, what she lacked was considered critical.
‘Was it that she had a bad temper?’
He’d met several people from Zaun, and he heard that whenever things went wrong, she beat them up, which led to breakups.
She said herself that her dream was to be a wise mother and a good wife.
When she traveled the continent, if she saw men mistreating women, she would slice their necks clean off.
She had even earned the nickname "Walking Gallows".
Several promising hunters with bounties on her had pursued her all the way to Zaun.
Some of them had either died or stayed behind in the Hunters’ Village.
Some of those had apparently died during the recent events.
Encrid had remained silent, but thanks to the talkative people around him, he learned all sorts of things.
“I decline.”
“Tch.”
Still, unlike others, she wasn’t clingy.
“There’s gold in the Empire.”
“There are beauties in the Empire.”
“There are fine swords in the Empire.”
“There are dwarf blacksmiths in the Empire.”
“There are incredibly strong Knights in the Empire.”
“There’s also…”
Had Schmidt always been this talkative?
Back when they’d met at the Border Guard, he had acted very solemn.
Encrid began to wonder if he had romanticized his memories. Of course, that wasn’t the case.
Schmidt was an excellent recruitment officer, simply doing his duty to the fullest.
“Does that guy come here every day?”
Listening to what Ragna said, it seemed his memory wasn’t mistaken after all.
“Tiring, isn’t it? But I can’t just leave for the Empire right now. Look. I got injured while fighting.”
He had looked fine when he was ranting about the Golden Words, but once things settled, he had a deep cut above his thigh.
“If it had struck just a bit higher, whew.”
He would never have been able to function as a man again. Schmidt shook his head and said,
“Well, even though I got clawed by a beast, there’s a silver lining.”
“What is it?”
Ragna asked.
Encrid didn’t ask because he already knew the answer.
“The Empire will probably recognize me as a wounded veteran and award me a medal. I’ll become a national hero.”
Even though he hadn’t fought for the Empire, that’s what would happen.
If asked why, it was because recruitment itself was considered service to the Empire.
It made him wonder if Schmidt carried around a book called The Story of the Almighty Empire and memorized it.
But there was someone who visited even more frequently than Schmidt. The face he saw first thing every morning at dawn.
“Awake?”
“…Why every day?”
“To express my gratitude. Thank you for saving Zaun.”
The head of the house bowed his head and left, every morning during training.
Even though he still hadn’t recovered fully and it was obvious he struggled to keep his balance when walking.
And it didn’t stop at dawn.
When the sun was at its peak, just as meals ended, the head of the house came again.
“Have you eaten?”
“You’ve only lost sight in one eye, haven’t you? Why ask when you can clearly see I just finished eating?”
The head of the house had lost one of his eyes, but with the other, it should’ve been obvious he had just finished his meal.
“Thank you for saving Zaun.”
Then he bowed his head again.
If that had been all, it would’ve been fine. But he even came before bedtime.
“Still awake?”
“Can’t you see for yourself?”
“If it hadn’t been for you, Zaun would’ve lost many lives.”
“Hescal deserves some credit too.”
“I haven’t forgotten his contribution. Still, thank you for saving Zaun.”
“My ears are about to grow calluses from hearing that.”
For three days straight, the head of the house visited morning, noon, and night.
Even though he reportedly could no longer perform at his previous level, and despite what must’ve been a crushing sense of loss, he never once missed a chance to come see Encrid, sweat pouring down his face.
“Ragna.”
“Yes.”
“Why is your father like this?”
Encrid asked even though he half-knew the answer. But it was fair to ask.
Maybe Ragna would say something he didn’t know.
Ragna recalled a habit of his father’s that he had almost forgotten.
Tempest Zaun had always acted and spoken with complete sincerity.
Since he couldn’t express emotion in his words or actions, he conveyed his sincerity by repeating himself.
“He’s doing it because he’s grateful.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.”
‘But wasn’t it a little excessive?’
That was what puzzled him. So, Encrid stayed in Zaun for a little while.
“Just give me one week. I still have a few things to take care of.”
Ann had said the same. And Encrid himself was content to stay a bit longer.
It was a fun and enjoyable time.
“They say you learn while teaching.”
He’d had similar experiences a few times before.
But in Zaun, there was no shortage of people overflowing with talent.
They also enjoyed learning from Encrid. It was a perfect fit and helped both sides.
“There’s no one in Zaun who explains things like Enki.”
Among them was a child who had smashed their head into the ground several times but still approached him cheerfully.
“You explain things so well. How about tonight?”
There was also a giant who repeatedly tried to claim the spot beside Encrid’s bed.
Later, he learned that Anahera enjoyed such jokes.
But it sounded half-serious, probably because his instincts were faulty.
“If Anahera says she wants to come with us, will you bring her along?”
Even Ragna asked that much, so clearly, his instincts weren’t entirely broken.
“That would be her choice.”
There wasn’t any particular reason to refuse.
“Sinar will be thrilled. I wonder if Esther will be happy too.”
Ragna’s words had a sharp edge.
“Whatever.”
Encrid brushed off Ragna’s teasing and swung his sword.
After teaching so many, he naturally began reflecting on the path he had walked.
‘And that’s helpful.’
The path he had walked, and the paths he hadn’t walked but could now see.
The paths seen by those overflowing with talent. The paths seen by those with talent but lacking confidence.
He chewed over those paths and pondered them.
If you only look ahead, you can’t see what’s behind you.
So, one must possess the wisdom to occasionally stop and look back.
Encrid embraced that wisdom. He had learned yet another thing.
Similar things continued to happen throughout his stay in Zaun.
It had been that way before, and it was the same now.
It was one evening at twilight. The lingering sunlight faded, casting a mysterious glow over the surroundings.
Personally, it was his favorite time of day.
Wasn’t it also called the time of dogs and wolves?
A time named because, at a distance, you couldn’t tell a dog from a wolf.
The sky was neither fully dark nor fully bright, tinged with both bluish and yellowish hues, and the air was pleasantly cool.
On days like this, something always seemed to happen.
If a man and woman were together, they might fall in love, or perhaps some stroke of luck would arrive, or unexpectedly, one might find peace of mind.
A child abandoned by their parents might break free of that shadow and take their first independent steps.
A man who had grown up unloved, always speaking with barbed words, might awaken to the meaning of love.
And if he learned that love was not only something to receive, but also to give, then perhaps he could start a new life.
Everyone has moments that feel magical.
Just a single moment could change everything in life.
And even if it didn’t change everything, it might still be the push one needs to pursue what seemed unreasonable or impossible.
That twilight was such a magical moment.
Where orange light and blue mixed, dozens of colors flowed together.
Somewhere, the chirping of grass insects echoed, and unusually, few visitors had come since midday.
And from now on, no one else was expected for a while.
The head of the house’s usual greeting wouldn’t come for quite some time, and Schmidt had already visited earlier that day, so he wouldn’t return.
Ragna had gone with Ann to the cliffs at the back of the basin.
They said they were going to check an area where either herbs or poisonous plants grew.
No visitors would be coming, and apart from the insects, there was no noise.
Encrid, immersed in the strange light, explored his inner world.
Perhaps it was because he had recently seen something especially memorable.
From a large tree standing to one side, Hescal suddenly dropped down.
“See things from multiple angles. People don’t live with only one side to them. And if you want to truly understand someone, find what they really desire.”
Everything he had done wasn’t something you could understand by looking at it simply.
What Hescal wanted was the survival of Zaun.
When Encrid had asked about his dreams before everything started, Hescal had smiled and brushed it off. That was why.
The divine usurpation was only a tool.
Yes, Encrid knew that too.
Enjoying swordsmanship and using the sword to seize what one wanted were two different things.
A new thought crossed his mind, Zaun and the people here were different from himself.
They did not wield swords to eliminate the Demon Realm or to seek anything in particular.
So he wouldn’t force them. That hadn’t changed since he first met Grida, Odinkar, and Magrun.
Did these people owe him their lives? Did that mean he should force them into things they never wished for?
He disliked that.
As soon as his thoughts settled, Oara suddenly appeared from the shade between two houses.
The blue light of twilight passed through her body.
Oara’s steps were light, and her face was bright. She approached softly and asked,
“Have you been well?”
Without waiting for a reply, she began to speak again.
“You’re planning to master all five of the Formal Recuperations, aren’t you? Even Knights usually focus on just one or two as their main specialty, but you’ll master them all, right? You won’t leave out a single one.”
Oara had left a deep impression on him before her death.
She had spoken many words when she appeared in his visions. Not one of them had been useless. Everything had been a clue to a new beginning.
But Encrid ignored her.
‘Enough with illusions.’
The moment he made up his mind, Oara vanished.
‘I’ve learned and moved forward.’
And he had arrived at the present.
His mind was calm, and his thoughts were clear, thanks to rest and recovery.
That calm mind now offered him an answer.
Beyond simply learning and mastering, his senses spoke.
‘Now’s the time.’
In other words, it was time to redefine and build anew.
He had seen and felt many things. He drew one of them out to serve as the foundation.
‘The Wave-Blocking Sword is the Formal Sword Technique.’
Its foundation was something he had learned from Ragna.
What Ragna did by instinct thanks to his natural talent, Encrid replicated through calculation.
The Formal Sword Technique would be honed using the Wave-Blocking Sword.
At this moment, what Encrid was doing was determining a training method for each of his sword styles.
His thoughts continued, and since twilight’s magic had not yet ended, Encrid roamed freely within it. He flew, he ran, and he swam.
The twilight light became the sky, became a lake, and became the earth.
The Middle Sword Technique is for physical training.
The techniques he had learned from Valaf-Style Martial Arts closed distance and delivered powerful strikes.
That was only natural.
Few would willingly allow a hand-to-hand fighter to control the distance multiple times.
He also thought of the Focus Point Explosion, the art of manipulating willpower used by the head of the house.
Since he had learned how to release willpower from Alexandra, he could use that as the basis to forge a new sword style.
The Middle Sword Technique would be about explosive power.
There was no need to immediately create the entire sword style.
Having the foundation was enough. He didn’t need to dig deeper, not yet.
Deception would be based on Luagarne-style tactical thinking.
He would mix in techniques from the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.
Tactics existed to secure advantages, and the Illusory Sword was never simply about swinging a blade. It was practically a tactical concept.
A fast sword came from optimized thinking.
Originally, he had learned that from Rem.
Rem could judge and swing his axe even in the briefest moments. Of course, Rem did it by instinct.
Encrid accomplished the same through optimized thinking, which he called “flash judgment”.
In terms of sheer speed, Rem was unmatched.
And then came the Fluid Sword.
‘The Sword of Chance uses every moment.’
To do so, one needed exceptional senses to take advantage of every situation.
The Flowing Sword was already focused on the senses.
It wasn’t possible to calculate each strike point to redirect attacks.
So he had to hear with his ears and sense the air’s movement with his skin.
‘Gate of the Sixth Sense, Sensory Perception.’
No matter what name he gave it, it was the same. He had to master the art of sensory perception.
Without a certain natural sensitivity, it would be impossible.
On top of that, he would have to gain experience, go through countless situations and internalize it into his body.
Even a genius couldn’t touch the Fluid Sword if they were too young.
The Sword of Chance was the ultimate refinement of the Fluid Sword.
It meant developing one’s senses and drawing every moment into one’s favor.
That was the direction the Fluid Sword pursued.
Established theory formed the foundation and was built up upon solid ground.
Twilight had ended before he realized it. In fact, even the night had passed.
“Did you sleep well?”
As with every morning, the head of the house approached and asked.
Encrid, who had spent the night standing, answered,
“Yes. I slept very well.”
This was a path he walked not through teaching, but through his own will.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased.
“Thank you for saving Zaun.”
The head of the house repeated the same sincere greeting he always used.
Encrid simply smiled.
In a way, this simple steadfastness seemed to symbolize Zaun itself. And that afternoon, a new visitor arrived.
It was roughly the time Ann had mentioned.
In other words, it was about time to leave, and also the time when Ragna hadn’t been seen for two days.
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