CHAPTER 434

It had been an entire month.

Luagarne had been closely observing Encrid's changes. She had watched him every single day without fail.

She was one of the Frogs with the sharpest eyes and senses across the entire continent.

When it came to judging and teaching people's talents, she could be said to be better than most Knights.

Therefore, just watching was enough.

Encrid was already at his limit. This was the end. This was his final point.

It was as if he were suddenly choking on a piece of boiled potato while eating.

The conclusion was obvious.

'He's stuck.'

He was stagnant.

'What a shame.'

That was the emotion she felt simultaneously.

For the entire month, he had lived as if he were desperately scraping together time that would never return.

He seemed like someone who had received a terminal diagnosis.

"You're going to die at this rate."

The Fairy he was facing said.

"Overexertion is forbidden."

A human who demonstrated a Knight's swordsmanship added.

Even the bear hybrid human tried to persuade him to rest for a day using both hands and feet.

Although one could question whether it was right to force him to rest by beating him during training.

"This is one of the traditions of the martial priests."

Knocking someone out to make them sleep?

Audin's words were true. The martial priests of the War God often ruined their bodies with excessive training, and at such times, they had to be taken care of with fists and feet.

It was a duty as a senior priest.

Luagarne, being a Frog with a broad mind, nodded in agreement.

However, others had slightly different reactions.

Dunbachel, who was watching from the side, widened her eyes and said, 

"He's taking that kind of beating and not running away?"

Pel, with a hardened face, said, 

"A shepherd could endure at least this much." 

But no one listened to him.

"I'll rest well."

Lawford spoke with determination. Although he often challenged Ragna to sparring, getting a good night's sleep after being punched by Audin was a different story.

In a way, it could be considered a wise decision. He wasn't chosen as a talent for the Knight order for nothing.

In any case, Luagarne saw Encrid's desperate struggle.

'Despite all that struggle.'

It wasn't progress but stagnation.

Even that stagnation was precarious.

He was barely holding off regression.

The reason he wasn't regressing?

'It's because of the various techniques he has mastered.'

The daily dawn training that pushed his body to the limit had made Encrid's body different from ordinary people.

Having already realized his Will, his body would have changed accordingly.

Willpower, when manifested in technique, placed a burden on the body, and enduring that burden would make the body stronger.

There was a reason why Knights showed combat abilities on a different level.

Luagarne took out a high-quality, wriggling caterpillar from a leather pouch, placed it on her hand, stuck out her tongue, and gulped it down in one go.

One needs to eat to keep the mind working.

She had spent the entire month observing Encrid, contemplating various methods.

'What would be helpful?'

There was no definitive answer to anything.

She thought desperately.

She sat on a chair made by Rem, hugging one knee.

Other than occasionally puffing out her cheeks with a growl, eating caterpillars, or sniffing a plant called Epiprimum, which was meant to please Frogs, she did nothing else.

Frogs generally preferred summer over winter. While they didn't have a pathological aversion to the cold, in dry climates, their skin often dried out, leading to an extremely uncomfortable condition.

When the skin cracks like dry land in a drought, sometimes even bleeding, how could that be pleasant?

For a human, it would be akin to someone cutting their skin with a knife every day. Both the pain and the condition were similar.

The cold and wind naturally dried out a Frog's skin, so it was only natural that they preferred summer.

Luagarne was glad it was summer now. She could skip the time needed to moisten her skin and focus on observing and thinking.

Why was that man struggling so desperately?

'I understand.'

Luagarne heard what Encrid was saying through his attitude and actions.

Even if the heavens don't permit it, he would move forward.

It was a cry released to the world with his whole body.

At least that's how Luagarne saw it.

Then what should she do for him now?

For someone who is stagnant.

Thinking alone wouldn't solve anything. The important thing was action. Luagarne stood up.

"You can't keep going like this."

Encrid was training, swinging a sword ten times heavier than a normal one.

Whoosh!

Failing to fully control the weight, the blade trembled and stopped.

In response, the sweat that was flowing down Encrid's forehead splashed into the air.

Through his wet hair, his blue eyes shone.

"You know that, right?"

Luagarne spoke again.

"Is there another way?"

Encrid responded calmly. He already knew.

If Luagarne had noticed that his growth had stopped and that he was stuck, it was a predictable situation for Encrid.

He had always known it would come to this.

He had squeezed out a talent he never had, advancing and feeling the thrill of growth that was different from before, but limits always approached eventually.

It was something he was familiar with.

He recalled the words the ferryman had spoken last night.

"Tsk, tsk, you should have stopped at the joyful today. Do you want to feel the thrill of moving forward? Isn't there such a day? There must have been. If you hadn't looked to tomorrow, that's how it would have been. Repeating the 'today' of yesterday, feeling the same thrill every time."

The ferryman had scolded Encrid.

Of course, before that, he had eventually revealed the nature of the ominous feeling. It was when they parted in silence and he dreamed again.

"There's no such thing as perfection in this world."

He had said, trying to appear confident. Encrid hadn't cared.

Was he so averse to stagnation that he wished for a wall to appear?

Rather than disliking it, he had just found a way. Since it was expected, instead of dwelling on it, he moved his body to avoid stopping.

He understood the fragments of the path to becoming a Knight.

'Learning even one thing more from another Knight's sword.'

At the same time, honing and polishing his own skills.

This was the path Encrid had realized.

Was this the right way? He had no such doubts.

Instead of wasting time worrying, he caught Ragna's black lightning one more time, dodged Sinar's invisible blade, and tried to grasp Jaxon's Silent Stab.

He literally did whatever it took.

So he thought.

"There was once a very talented bard. He didn't leave his room, thinking he needed to create a special and great poem. He repeated what he had always done, believing it was the best."

It was an old tale about a foolish bard who didn't use his feet.

The story held the lesson that inspiration comes from experiencing and seeing the new world.

Encrid knew the rest of the story that would follow.

"It was his friend, who baked bread all his life, that made him realize this. And with one word from that friend, the bard wrote the song 'The Frog in the Well', which is still sung across the continent to this day. Yes, I know the story."

The bard was a Frog.

He clearly realized his mistake and wrote the song.

Now, it's a song that even children and adults alike know.

Did he think the sky was round?

Did he think the world was round?

Was his world really that small?

Frog, oh frog, you won't gain anything without leaving the well.

The song repeats similar lyrics.

The meaning was clear.

"Are you going to do as I say?"

Luagarne was the greatest teacher on the continent, but this was the first time she had encountered such a disciple.

So what should she do?

She decided to try everything. Everything she could.

"Let's do it."

Encrid nodded.

He had no choice.

He had experienced this kind of stagnation many times. While it didn't make him impatient, it wasn't a welcome situation either.

It was as if, while walking by moonlight, dark clouds had suddenly covered the sky.

The sudden clouds obscured his vision.

It was like the middle of a perfectly fine cloud bridge had suddenly broken off.

He could see the path marked by signposts as he walked, but the world was telling him not to walk any further. That was all.

At times like these, Encrid would close his eyes and keep walking, and even if the bridge was broken, he would tie a rope and cross it.

This time was no different.

* * *

This summer was unusually long.

The intense heat didn't just beat down, it felt as if it was trying to roast people whole.

"This is a bit crazy, Instructor."

Before the torture known as the march began, one of the soldiers raised his hand to speak.

He was a noble from a family that had studied in the Capital.

Although he was from a collateral branch, he was still part of one of the noble vassal families of the newly appointed Duke of Octo.

Confident in his abilities, he had joined the Border Guard, believing that with a little training and some luck, he would soon stand out even among those known as the Mad Company.

But what was this?

These madmen were telling him to carry a longsword, two daggers, a heavy wrist-mounted crossbow, armor reinforced with linen and leather, arm and shin guards, at least three throwing knives, a hand axe, a small modified round shield, a helmet, and even a short club, all while marching.

And that wasn't even the end of it—he had to carry a backpack as well.

They called this fully armed.

'This isn't armor, it's torture.'

To him, most of it was pure torture.

The Commander and instructor in charge of the scout unit training only nodded and said one thing.

"Then get lost."

She was ruthless.

The soldier couldn't resist any further. He knew all too well that many had been beaten up after challenging that female instructor.

Even knocking her down would be a problem.

'The next one to come out would be that monster.'

If that guy Rem showed up, there would be no answer.

Lately, he hadn't appeared much, but there was a time when he would frequently show up, complaining that the training was too easy, and beat people up one by one. It was nothing but one-sided violence.

And he always seemed to pick on the nobles.

'That noble-slayer bastard.'

The noble-born soldier was well aware of Rem's nickname. It was quite well-known among the nobles.

"Run!"

Even though he was fully armed with everything from a sword belt to a backpack, they told him to run, not walk.

The soldier gritted his teeth and started moving.

"You're in scout unit training. If you can't endure this, go die somewhere else."

It was a three-day training exercise. They would climb over mountains, dig a pit where smoke wouldn't rise at the target point, have a meal, and then return.

'Not even the Demon Slayer could handle this kind of training.'

This wasn't training, it was just torture. How could this be considered training?

The soldier kept moving forward, panting heavily.

After cursing at everyone around him, he ended up blaming his father for sending him here, all because he had been dazzled by the Demon Slayer's exploits. Eventually, he was so exhausted that he couldn't think of anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

That's when he noticed another soldier.

'An iron helmet?'

While everyone else was wearing leather helmets, this guy was moving with an iron helmet, and his backpack was even larger and heavier.

He had three hand axes, two longswords, and a gladius, shorter than the longsword strapped horizontally behind his waist, but still a formidable main weapon.

And that wasn't even all.

For some reason, he had two javelins resting on his shoulder as well.

'A spearman?'

It was now common knowledge within the Border Guard Reserve Unit that gear varied according to one's specialty.

After undergoing training in full gear, you couldn't help but learn this.

If you lost even one piece of your equipment, the entire unit would be held accountable, and everyone would get beaten.

So it was clear that this was scout unit training.

It was mentally exhausting, but forgetting that wasn't an option.

But why was he carrying spears?

Now that he looked closer, the guy even had iron leg guards strapped on.

He was already heavily armed, but he had three times the weight of anyone else's gear. The guy was insane.

Was he seeing things? Was he so exhausted that he was hallucinating?

As he continued forward, he caught a glimpse of the guy's face.

The noble-born soldier recognized him.

"The Demon Slayer!"

He exclaimed in shock, but his voice wasn't very loud. He was too exhausted.

At the sound of his voice, the person who was the ruler of the area and had been personally bestowed with a rank above General by the King turned his head.

"Dragging your feet will only make it harder."

With that brief piece of advice, he continued forward.

The soldier was left speechless.

The Demon Slayer was walking while carrying gear several times heavier than his own.

In an instant, the defiance that had formed among the soldiers, centered around the noble-born one, was crushed.

The Commander and training instructor, Finn, moved up to walk beside Encrid, who was ahead.

"It's been a while."

Finn spoke as she placed her right hand on her waist in a casual salute.

She was also fully armed.

"Have you improved?"

When Encrid asked, Finn thought to herself that the man in front of her, who was always assessing things like swordsmanship at first glance, was still the same. She then brought up Torres.

"He said they've further intensified the Border Guard training at Martai. He's inviting you to come by and see for yourself. You should drop by sometime."

Torres, huh? He had seen him once before. It was when he was appointed as a General.

Although he hadn't held an inauguration ceremony, he still had to meet the lords of each city. He had seen him briefly then.

"If I have time."

He had designed the training course according to Luagarne's advice. At the moment, he didn't have the time to spare.

Finn clicked her tongue in disbelief.

Even after all this time, he was still a training fanatic, a monster in his own right.

Well, that's how he became the Demon Slayer.

She had once been this man's superior, but later she served under him, and now she was just one of the Commanders under the man who had become a General. But Finn couldn't help feeling proud of it all.

Encrid was the kind of person who had a strange charm that made those around him feel a sense of fulfillment.

* * *

"To clear your blocked vision, you need variety. Do whatever it takes."

Following Luagarne's advice, Encrid walked and ran among fully armed soldiers, carrying even heavier equipment than they did.

"Run."

Splash!

He climbed up a mountain ridge and leaped from a cliff into a lake.

"How to break your limits? I don't know anything about that. But I do know that just gripping your sword won't make it happen."

The broader your perspective, the more you can see. That was how Luagarne viewed things.

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