CHAPTER 295

Encrid paused and looked up. The dark sky was heavy with gloomy clouds.

'It feels like something's about to fall.'

How many times has 'today' passed?

It was different from before. In the past, no matter how many times the day repeated, he used to try to gauge how many times 'today' had occurred.

He remembered each day in a different way.

But not this time.

Why had it changed? Why was he accepting it differently now?

'Because my field of vision has narrowed.'

It felt like he could just rush through the task at hand and move forward.

Encrid, being human, grew anxious.

Anxiety gradually eroded his field of vision. It blocked his view, preventing him from assessing the situation.

He felt like a racehorse.

Blinders covering his sides, forcing him to only look ahead.

Who did that? The situation did.

The ferryman added a pinch of spice to it.

'Was I tricked?'

Or did he learn something?

He learned something. After all, there's always something to be learned in everything.

Encrid felt the wind while looking at the dark sky and caught the scent of the battlefield that had lingered for two days.

Seeing, hearing, and feeling wasn't enough.

Encrid forgot the eyes of others. He momentarily forgot where he was. He even put the current situation on hold.

And then, he reviewed.

He reflected on and reflected again on the day that had passed.

This was a first for Encrid.

Though a child's steps might be slow, it's still not a long time.

In that brief moment, the review began and ended.

'The ferryman's words were problematic too.'

But the bigger fault lies with himself for focusing too intensely on just one thing.

'A single point of focus can blur your vision.'

Everyone was puzzled by Encrid's actions.

It was strange to step out just because a child was running towards them.

It was even stranger to go out alone as if to greet someone.

And then to stop still without approaching the child— that was the strangest of all.

So, it was a series of baffling actions that perplexed everyone watching.

"Damn, what's he doing?"

One of the enemy soldiers muttered.

"Just watch."

A mercenary from the Black Blade Bandits tapped the soldier's head as he spoke.

Regardless of sides, the situation was confusing to everyone.

Why wouldn't it be?

On one side, a child was running out, and on the other, the figure who was once fighting the enemy Commander and known as the hero of the Border Guard came rushing out.

As ridiculous as it was, everyone watching expected Encrid to either embrace the child or treat him as an enemy and cut him down.

Humans predict the next situation based on what they see. They call it anticipation.

Right now, Encrid was drawing everyone's attention by acting outside of expectations, doing something unpredictable.

"Looks like snow will fall."

Encrid mumbled as he stood alone on the battlefield, but no one heard him.

What the hell is he doing?

A mix of confusion and absurdity made everyone on both sides pause, forcing them to watch the situation unfold.

The elderly wizard, who had been preparing to cast a spell by connecting a thread of magic to the scroll, remained focused.

If he took his eyes off even for a moment, the thread of magic connected to the scroll would disappear.

Then, he wouldn't be able to activate the scroll remotely.

The child had no time to take in the surrounding situation.

He was just running because he was told to run.

'I want to live.'

The child desperately wished to survive. From the moment he was captured, he instinctively knew there was no escape, but a glimmer of hope pushed him forward.

Maybe, somehow, he would survive. He didn't know the process, but perhaps he could make it. Who knew if the Goddess of luck might shed a tear for him?

Luck was always a wild card, they said.

'I'll survive, no matter what.'

The child's survival instinct moved his feet instead of shedding tears.

And as Encrid became aware of his surroundings and reflected on the situation, he realized a few things he had missed.

The scroll.

'Someone is watching and ready to trigger it. They can't be far. I'm within their visible range. They didn't do this expecting a lot, but it's still a well-executed ploy. How? They know me.'

His intuition shone once again.

This wasn't the time to focus intensely.

If someone was watching him, he needed to conceal his intentions and buy time.

'The way to hide my intentions from the enemy.'

It's to distract them with unexpected actions.

This was a basic principle of the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.

So, Encrid demonstrated his swordsmanship.

He also incorporated something he had learned from observing Krang.

Krang knew how to captivate attention and exude an aura.

Encrid mimicked that.

With subtle hand movements and slight shifts in his body, he pulled his injured leg back and gathered strength in his right foot to simulate a Limping Step.

To anyone watching, it seemed as though he was gathering strength to leap forward.

If Krang captured attention with speeches, Encrid did it with his movements.

In a posture that suggested he might spring forward at any moment, he placed his hand on the sword grip.

'He's drawing his sword.'

'He's going to strike.'

Everyone was led to believe this by the sequence of his movements.

At that moment, the child finally saw Encrid.

'Oh, I'm going to die.'

The child gave up on life.

His steps slowed.

Encrid came into the wizard's line of sight. He was ready to activate the scroll. He widened his view to identify his target accurately.

The plan was to cast the spell when the child took five more steps.

Encrid used a technique from that posture.

It was called swordsmanship, but it was more of a trick than an actual sword technique.

Could this really be considered swordsmanship?

Valen, the man who taught it, called it both a technique and an art.

Valen Mercenary Sword Technique, 'The Distraction'.

Encrid, poised to leap forward, suddenly twitched his shoulder and turned his head to the side. The distance was too great to see his expression, but his movements suggested surprise, as if something had caught his attention.

Even without words, people can convey their intentions through actions.

'It's not about hiding your intentions, but covering them up.'

All he needed was a brief moment.

The wizard was momentarily disoriented by Encrid's turned head.

What's over there?

For a brief moment, everyone's attention shifted sideways.

That included Laikanos and the entire enemy force.

Even Encrid's allies—Graham, Audin, and the Madmen Platoon members—were deceived.

It was perfect.

And there was nothing there.

Just the wind blowing, accompanied by a faint cloud of dust. It was a dry, harsh wind that cut into the skin.

"We've been tricked!"

Laikanos shouted.

In that moment, Encrid leaped forward.

The Sense of Evasion was an instinct-driven action.

Encrid added intention to it.

Combining all the experiences of 'today', the fastest sword was unleashed.

The strength in the joints of his left fingers was precise, and his muscles stretched out smoothly.

In contrast, his body felt heavy.

It was as if the air had turned to mud, pressing down on him.

Under the pressure of the air turned to mud, his head and eyes grew hot.

He could see the child's frightened eyes, the snot running down, and the gaping mouth.

Everything seemed to slow down.

In this world where everything had slowed, Encrid alone thrust his sword forward.

Whoosh, the wind was pushed back.

The blade sliced through the thread holding the scroll. It pierced, then curved to the side, cutting through all the securing points.

As the blade passed, faint cuts appeared on the child's body.

It was not a skillful technique, but a strike focused entirely on speed.

He couldn't perform the miracle of only cutting the outer garment.

Tick.

The scroll was cut and floated in the air.

Encrid immediately grabbed the child and leaped to the side as if taking flight.

The sudden movement caused a wound on his left shin to burst open, but this was not the time to worry about that.

The old wizard, though not entirely breaking his focus, had a momentary lapse in concentration.

Because of that, the spell activation was slightly delayed.

Flash! The scroll emitted light once more.

Encrid, still holding the child, rolled away.

A searing heat brushed his back. It felt like his back was being licked by a fiery tongue.

His back burned, but he was alive. He had saved the child in his arms as well.

"Hooah."

He exhaled, and the hot breath brushed over the child's hair.

He lay sprawled on the ground at an angle.

"…Ah."

Everyone fell silent. No one could find the words to describe what Encrid had just done.

That included his allies.

In the meantime, while holding the child, Encrid took a moment to catch his breath and asked,

"What's your dream?"

"…Huh?"

The child was in such a daze that he couldn't tell whether he was alive or dead. He couldn't respond properly.

It seemed he had wet himself.

His thigh was damp.

Ignoring the mess on his armor, Encrid asked again,

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

It was a trivial question, asked to reassure the child, and a fleeting thought from the past had prompted it.

It didn't carry much meaning.

"I-I want to be an herbalist. I'll become an herbalist, like my mother."

The child spoke. The eyes that had been filled with fear now spoke of life.

He spoke of living for the days to come.

He was a brave child, one who had steadfastly walked towards death, yearning for life.

Encrid had once wanted to become a Knight.

The childish dream of his youth had brought him to this moment.

He often asked himself what he swung his sword for.

The answer was never clear.

But today, it would be for a child with a dream.

"Do that."

He got up and, as if throwing, pushed the child behind him.

"My back, my back."

The child mumbled with a trembling voice.

"Run. Don't look back."

Responding to the child's mumbling, Encrid shouted without even taking a breath.

"Ragna!"

Come and support my side.

There was no need for a long explanation, Ragna would understand what to do.

Encrid's gaze returned forward. It was right after the spell activation had failed.

Laikanos was charging at him with a terrifying expression.

Around him were others with bloodshot eyes, each holding a single spear-like sword and rushing forward. Their condition was strange, as if they had taken some kind of drug. Their eyes were bloodshot, and their muscles were more swollen than ever before.

With thickened legs, they fiercely surged forward, kicking up the ground.

"Kill him!"

Laikanos shouted, throwing away the scabbard of his flail.

He had seen the strike from a moment ago. If they faced him carelessly, they'd be the ones to fall.

The opponent's injuries were irrelevant.

Encrid also raised his sword.

The long sword in his left hand, glowing with a blue hue, was aimed at the enemy.

He pointed the sword at the approaching foes.

They were attacking from four directions—left, right, above, and below—while Laikanos charged from the front.

The blades coming at him might seem to arrive simultaneously, but they didn't.

There were slight differences in timing.

And he could see them.

In Encrid's vision, dots began to appear and connect once again. Then, he tightened his muscles and swung his sword.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Five swords were deflected.

Even though the speed of his sword was fearsome, he was focused entirely on defense, and none of the blades could touch Encrid's body.

When the five swords targeted him, Encrid moved his feet before his sword.

He stretched his left foot to the side, then kicked off the ground with his right foot, executing a slope step.

Naturally, his body twisted halfway.

In doing so, he shifted his position to the left side, parrying the two swords coming from that direction.

Then, he swiftly stepped back one and a half steps, parrying the two strikes from the right.

Finally, he deflected Laikanos's thrust with the flat of his sword, redirecting the attack.

'A mistake!'

Laikanos had expected that blocking the attacks of his four subordinates would create an opening, and he had not used his fastest sword to exploit that gap.

Instead, he had stabbed at what he considered an appropriate speed.

Because of this, Encrid was able to block all five swords.

Above all, Laikanos was horrified by the speed of Encrid's sword.

"You bastard! How did your skills improve so much, so suddenly?"

At least, in terms of sword speed, he had never been this fast before. But now, he had suddenly become fast enough to rival Laikanos.

In reality, this was the result of countless repetitions of 'today', with the experience accumulated during that time leading to this breakthrough. But there was no way for his opponent to know that.

To Laikanos, it just looked like Encrid had seen his Swift Sword once and mimicked it.

Of course, Laikanos had also trained and retrained to perfect his own swordsmanship by observing others.

But right now, that hardly mattered.

The movements the opponent had shown earlier were merely an annoyance.

Laikanos was confident that with just a few more swings of his sword, he could kill Encrid.

But things rarely go as planned.

Thwack!

A sharp impact sound marked the beginning.

Slash!

The sound of flesh and armor being sliced through echoed.

Thud!

"Argh!"

A dying scream followed, accompanied by a loud noise.

Something struck from the side, crashing through the allied troops.

It wasn't a full unit, it was a lone figure charging forward.

Blonde hair fluttered in the wind. He had discarded his helmet, wielding a sword as long and large as his own body with terrifying force.

His red eyes left trails in the air. The blonde hair followed, and so did the sword.

He swung the massive sword with such ferocity that it seemed to bend under the force.

Whoosh, thud!

He slashed downwards, swept sideways, and spun around to thrust.

Every strike was a deadly technique.

The troops he had painstakingly trained were being slaughtered without pause.

"Ugh!"

Even though they had taken stimulants just before the battle, they were being overwhelmed. The opponent was a monster.

"I'll handle this."

Ragna, who had approached, spoke as he passed by. Blood dripped onto his blonde hair—blood from a soldier who had been cleaved in two by an upward strike moments ago, splattering his innards and blood everywhere.

"Damn it."

Laikanos's eyes widened. This was a crisis, a threat, and a danger.

But it couldn't end here.

After all, they weren't the only ones with the Black Blade Bandits.

* * *

"Now is the time!"

The Wolf Bishop realized that any further delay would make it difficult to achieve their goal.

"Exterminate the unbelievers!"

At the Bishop's cry, the group of fanatics sprang into action.

Their numbers weren't large.

The main force here was the wolf-like beasts.

The Wolf Bishop gave the order to the pack leader connected to him.

'Kill them all.'

Soon, the beasts surged forward like a wave.

Their numbers were more than the Border Guard had anticipated.

Hundreds of beasts emerged from all directions and charged forward.

"You must move as well."

The Bishop glanced to his side as he spoke. Standing there was a man from a barbarian tribe, brought in as a mercenary.

The man, standing idly, spun his spear a few times before speaking.

"It's not my turn yet."

"This fool?"

The Wolf Bishop didn't care much for the man, but he couldn't deny his skill.

What was it he came to gain, seeking immortality and eternal youth?

Ridiculous.

If he truly desired something, he should have committed to the faith.

Thinking he could gain something through a deal was absurd.

The Bishop scoffed at the man and followed behind the pack of beasts.

Soon, the Bishop saw the enemy forces charging.

"Forward, Heavy Infantry!"

Some had stepped forward to block the way, but it was laughable.

'Brother.'

When he called to his brother through their mental connection, one of the largest beasts among the wolf pack stood up.

Awooooo!

The howl of the wolf erupted. The cry of the wolf, no longer just a beast but now a monster, shattered the air with its oppressive presence.

It was a terrifying creature, just the sight of it made one's legs go weak.

This was no ordinary wolf—it was a direwolf, a wolf born as a monster.

Its dull, pitch-black fur seemed to absorb the surrounding light, making the area even gloomier.

Despite the sleet falling from above, the heat emanating from the direwolf caused the snow to melt before it even touched its fur, vanishing in mid-air.

It was as if the soldiers saw their own future in that moment—as if they too would simply melt away and disappear.

The lead soldier of the Heavy Infantry swallowed hard at the sight.

Can we really stop that?

Doubt crept in.