CHAPTER 432

Encrid didn't waste the time waiting for Ragna.

Of course, that was just the kind of person he was.

And it was no different now. He had summoned Rem, and the sound of clashing swords and axes filled the air.

Clang!

The silver blade of the axe blocked the slashing Aker and pushed the sword away.

Encrid twisted his waist, channeling the force into his arms, and redirected the pressure.

Noticing this, Rem feigned pulling back the axe only to bring it down vertically.

Thud!

Once again, their weapons met and then separated.

Sparks flew between the blades.

It was an exchange without any concessions.

The situation continued as they kept using and blocking each other's techniques.

It was an intense dialogue between sword and axe, with no time to catch their breath. No human could live without breathing.

Both of them were pushed to their limits, to the point where their vision blurred for a moment.

This was the twelfth time it had happened. The fierce sparring that had gone on for hours was even making Encrid gasp for air.

Rem was no different.

"Whew, whew, watch closely."

Rem stepped back as he spoke, pursing his lips into a circle.

He then took a deep breath, sucking in the air. The heavy breathing and heaving shoulders subsided.

Encrid instinctively watched the line that the axe would trace, starting from Rem's shoulder.

As expected, Rem swung the axe.

But it didn't stop at just one swing.

Encrid barely managed to swing Aker to counter it.

Clang!

The blades crossed. Encrid immediately twisted his body to evade.

Rem's axe strikes continued, making it hard to believe he was supposed to be out of breath.

Rem's axe was originally fierce, sharp, fast, and heavy.

When the lightweight steel axe flew without any recoil, it sent a chill down one's spine.

But now, it was even more so.

And to think he was doing this after panting heavily?

Amid the rapid, recoilless axe strikes, another axe swung in an irregular rhythm.

The axes in both hands shattered the rhythm and tempo as they relentlessly attacked. Encrid, feeling like he was catching a rainstorm with his bare hands, barely managed to block with Aker and Gladius.

It was not the kind of attack you could block just because you anticipated it.

Even this was Rem holding back.

If he hadn't, this attack could have easily cost Encrid an arm.

"When you think it's over, squeeze out everything you have left. I call it 'a handful of breath'."

Rem, who said this, was now breathing even more heavily. His complexion had turned a dull purple. It was because he had used up all his remaining energy while holding his breath.

Rem always taught more with actions than with words.

That was easier for both the teacher and the student.

After catching his breath, Rem continued.

"If you're not careful, your heart might burst and kill you. Or your blood vessels might burst and kill you. Hell, it might even feel like you've shaved a bit off your lifespan."

He was saying it was far more dangerous than the Heart of Great Strength.

Normally, one would protect their body with spells while using this technique, but Rem had altered it slightly.

It was something he could do because of a recent insight he had gained from using spells.

And it was a technique that would be more useful if the crazy Captain in front of him mastered it.

"If you want to land even a single hit, you'd better learn this before you face him."

The sparring with Ragna was in two days.

Rem expressed his intention to help with that.

Encrid had no reason to refuse. So he did just that. He woke up in the morning, loosened his body with the Isolation Technique, and then learned the 'Handful of Breath' from Rem.

Rem did not hesitate to give advice from time to time.

"I was originally ambidextrous, but you're not, Captain."

"What are you trying to say?"

Rem was busy honing his own skills while teaching Encrid. It was obvious just from looking at him.

He was sweating more than ever during training.

As a result, even Dunbachel was having a tough time, and the task of forming the unit that Encrid had ordered earlier was put on hold.

Encrid didn't force it.

Rem wasn't the type to do things just because he was forced.

Krais also didn't see the formation of the unit as an urgent matter.

"Organizing the troops is important, but there's no way a war will break out right now. Nothing will happen for at least a year."

That was the time it would take for the King to stabilize the country.

Moreover, after seeing the policies of the Border Guard, Naurillia was setting up outposts in every city connected to the Capital.

The Kingdom and the Border Guard were developing in the same way.

Of course, Encrid spent his time swinging his sword rather than worrying about such things.

Anyway, the point was that Rem was swinging his axe more diligently than ever, regardless of the formation of the unit.

In the meantime, he was also sparring with Encrid, so it was understandable that his explanations were somewhat lacking.

"It's not really about using both hands right now."

"Explain... whew, huff, in more detail."

Encrid said, planting the tip of his sword into the ground as he caught his breath.

Rem thought for a moment before asking.

"Can you write with your left hand?"

He couldn't do it.

While he could draw out sparks with his left hand and activate the Will of Swiftness, he couldn't write with it.

"If you're going to use both hands, you need to be able to use them properly. Doing it poorly is worse than not doing it at all."

He had no intention of stubbornly insisting on fighting with weapons in both hands. But Rem was right.

If you have something, you should use it properly.

Otherwise, it's meaningless.

At this point, only opponents who wouldn't be affected by anything less than perfection remained.

Two days passed quickly, but this time it was Encrid who delayed. It was because Luagarne had advised him to do so.

Of course, it was also because Encrid had understood and accepted the reasoning.

"Delay the sparring. You're going to ask why, right? Sure. I know you won't improve drastically in just a few days. But you can strengthen your resolve. You can't just throw away what you've learned from the Mercenary King, can you?"

Luagarne never gave the correct answer right away.

Self-discovery came first. She would help you along the way, but she wouldn't hand over the answers directly.

That was Luagarne's method.

Encrid dragged out the time for a few more days.

During that time, he practiced writing and eating with his left hand.

"If you've built flexible and strong muscles, you should use them, shouldn't you, brother?"

Audin also helped Encrid.

Encrid learned a few more Valaf-Style Martial Arts techniques.

One joint lock and one striking technique.

Not every technique could have a name.

Ragna merely watched this indifferently.

During this time, Encrid managed to write letters with his left hand, though his handwriting was poor.

He had to send a reply to the personal letter from the King.

Krais had noticed the letter and, curious about its contents, had asked about it.

"What does it say?"

It was probably full of promises to give various things in an effort to keep the King of the East in check.

After all, wasn't it a letter that had arrived after hearing news of the Mercenary King?

Krais had been somewhat worried when he saw the letter arrive.

But his prediction was far off.

"He's saying that while he's sitting on the throne, it's not a job he really wants."

"A complaint?"

Encrid nodded.

A complaint at a time like this?

Was Krang the strange one, or was his Captain the strange one?

Krais couldn't tell.

In any case, the letter was a response to that.

It was about doing things properly once you've committed to them.

Encrid put down the quill in his left hand and then clenched and unclenched his hand.

'It's not enough.'

He couldn't use his left hand like his right overnight. But he thought he understood the meaning behind Luagarne's words. So he stood up and went outside.

The sun was directly overhead, and the day was brighter than any other. The scent of heat filled his nostrils.

The smell of heated stone, dry earth, and fresh grass mixed together. It wasn't a bad day.

Although he had said two days, it was after a week that he finally met with Ragna.

Ragna waited patiently.

During that time, Ragna had gained confidence that he could perfectly control his sword.

Even when swinging with full force, he could stop it just in time to cut a single strand of hair. He could stop so perfectly that not even a red mark would be left on the skin.

If they had sparred after two days, it might have ended with one of them losing an arm, but now it wouldn't.

"I've waited a long time."

It was the center of the training grounds. Ragna swung his sword alone at the same spot every day.

On the surface, it didn't seem like he was practicing any extraordinary swordsmanship. In fact, his swings appeared even more sloppy than before.

Off to the side, Rem sat with his arms crossed, seated on a chair he had made himself.

Beside him, Audin sat on a large stone, which he had somehow procured and used as a makeshift seat.

Dunbachel, Teresa, Pel, and Lawford were also watching with interest.

Jaxon was absent today, and so was Esther.

Both had a lot of pressing matters to attend to.

Encrid didn't care about anyone's gaze.

He held his sword and took aim. The tip of Aker's blade became a point directed at his opponent.

The pressure of Intimidation, based on sheer willpower, reached Ragna.

But Ragna remained unaffected.

To Encrid, Ragna didn't seem particularly intimidating. In fact, he appeared even weaker than before.

"If you miss, you die."

At the moment Ragna spoke, he was outside the realm of perception. It was something that couldn't be seen with one's eyes, only barely sensed through instinct.

Ragna's black sword had already grazed Encrid's thigh.

The attack came from an unexpected angle.

It was speed and timing that made blocking with Aker impossible.

Encrid, relying solely on his instincts, barely managed to shift his weight backward. As a result, he avoided a fatal injury by leaning back.

The black blade of the sword grazed the thin fabric of his trousers. Blood slowly seeped through the torn fabric, staining his pants.

He understood with that single strike.

"A Knight?"

Encrid muttered.

"The beginning of one."

Ragna responded calmly. Rem, who had been watching, found Ragna's nonchalant attitude even more irritating and spoke up.

"Spenadul-like bastard."

'Spenadul' was a term from the West that, when literally translated, meant someone who would smoke tobacco with their rear end.

In the Western dialect, it had a deeper meaning of expecting something from meaningless actions, often used as an insult for lazy people.

Of course, no one else understood what he meant.

And even if they did, they wouldn't have reacted.

Ragna, still calm, raised his black sword. The black greatsword, made of heavy black gold, was held in one hand, yet it seemed as light as a rapier.

It looked as if the blade would whip like a lash if swung just as it was.

Though it didn't exude any particular intimidation, anyone looking at Ragna now would instinctively want to step back.

His sword looked like an unavoidable divine punishment, like a black bolt of lightning about to strike from the sky.

Even though he hadn't yet swung his sword, everyone watching could see the devastating power Ragna's strike would hold.

Audin's brow furrowed slightly. It wasn't a strike he could block with the restrictions in place.

Though the sword hadn't yet fallen, Teresa envisioned her shield being shattered.

Dunbachel was sweating profusely.

In her mind, she saw her own death. It was a strike she shouldn't face if she wanted to live.

The veins on Pel's hand, gripping the Idol Slayer, began to bulge.

Lawford recalled the one time he had seen a true Knight from the order.

Lawford, too, had truly witnessed it.

Luagarne stood off to one side, quietly observing Encrid.

Everyone was showing signs of tension.

A Knight was that kind of being. A natural disaster that changed the atmosphere just by existing. A calamity.

And if that calamity stood before you, sword in hand? If that sword was aimed at you?

The bulging eyes of the Frog were fixed not on Ragna, who was on the brink of becoming a Knight, but on Encrid.

More precisely, they couldn't look away from him.

'Is he smiling?'

Encrid smiled.

It was the same smile he had shown when the ferryman told him that he would die, that a wall would block him, and that he would relive today over and over again.

No one else would know, but that was how it was.

Encrid smiled.

Whoosh.

The black lightning struck without a thunderous roar. The soundless blade seemed poised to cleave Encrid in two.

Clang!

Of course, that didn't happen.

Ssss.

Encrid had raised his sword above his forehead to block, but he was pushed back, and his forehead was cut by the blade he held. Droplets of blood trickled down.

Just before the black lightning struck, Encrid had crossed Aker and Gladius to block it.

The timing was razor-thin, but he managed to block it.

As he quickly twisted Gladius, the skin on his forehead was grazed, causing the blood to flow.

The blood that dripped down in small amounts wasn't insignificant, and Encrid's face was soon stained red.

Despite this, he didn't close his eyes.

It wasn't that he had achieved some great realization.

Encrid had spent his entire life searching for a way, wandering aimlessly, and seeking signposts to guide him.

He was a madman who had sewn together shattered and torn dreams to reach this point.

And that's why this moment brought him joy.

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