1075. Walking at dawn, finding a path, hiding the trees in the forest
Sweat trickled down his forehead, clumping into a round ball at his chin before dripping down. Encred smiled even as beads of sweat streamed down his face.
Is it fun?
Sinar asks. Joy and ecstasy mingled on the fairy’s face as she asked. Having briefly revealed her emotions, she displayed a spirit of high purity.
Between the changing seasons, spring was brilliant, summer was hot, autumn was cool and unfamiliar, and winter was infinitely cold.
The change of seasons felt several times more intense than before. It was a change that occurred as the purity of the spirit shifted.
How many days had it been already?
Enkrid and everyone else did not gauge the time.
They thought to themselves that if there was an urgent matter or something that absolutely needed to be prepared, anyone would come and speak.
Whether it was Krais, Edin, or Abnaier—anyone would seek him out. Until then, he would simply enjoy it.
Enkrid forgot his surroundings, forgot the world, forgot himself, and immersed himself in the swing of his sword.
He was not alone. Inspired by the lingering scent he spread, everyone thrust their spears, gripped their shields, leaped, and swung their swords.
Enough to die happy.
Encred answered the fairy’s question.
– If you actually die, you can repeat today.
The boatman’s apparition speaks. No, is it a hallucination?
Ignoring it, I raise my sword. For days, I hung out with Rem, sparred with Ragnar, and ran around with Saxen like it was tag. I also repeatedly sparred with Audin without weapons.
Then, as if by prearrangement, everyone naturally began tactical training.
“Bear center!”
Rem shouts. At his command, everyone took up formation facing their imaginary opponent.
It was a defensive formation with Audin holding the center. Simply charging forward blindly wasn’t the answer. To be considered a good fighter in the end, merely being strong and swinging the sword fast wasn’t everything.
You had to think and consider various factors to win.
‘tactics.’
Securing a favorable position, gaining a psychological advantage, creating openings by repeatedly doing what the opponent dislikes, and not losing oneself in the process.
Everything is a tactic. All that is needed to master these things is experience and repetitive training.
In the midst of this, Rem felt the magical power flowing through her body becoming harder than ever before. It was a strange sensation to put into words; it felt like a solid rock, yet looking at it differently, perhaps like a flowing river.
If you combine them, does that make it a river of flowing stones? It is a contradiction. And that is precisely why it is strange.
It’s not like it’s a change in nature.
When did it start like this? There was no need to hesitate.
Ever since Encred surpassed him, Rem had devoted himself to training as well. He had never let a day pass idly before, but now he was acting as if the Captain had possessed him.
The power of the kidneys.
The powers of the Angry Bird, Sapsal, Bodremoe, and Haneulnalrimi come and go within the inner self as if entering and leaving their own home. Yet, this is not a burden. Therefore, it is not difficult to draw upon the power of the Guardian Spirit whenever necessary.
This works.
How did it end up like this? We tried. We truly poured our hearts into it every single day.
Like a madman, or as if this were the entirety of the world and everything, we walked away from the shade and greeted the morning sun every day.
We simply repeated this cycle of walking away from the shade and greeting the sun countless times.
And so, things turned out this way. Naturally, however, a suitable catalyst also accompanied this.
The moment Enkrid returned and faced the four of them simultaneously, Rem felt something changing within him.
He sensed this change within himself as he unleashed the pent-up emotions accumulated through all that fighting and brawling.
Subsequently, everyone became aware of the improvement in their individual abilities, which naturally served as tactical training for the entire Knights Order.
“Lawford. If you’re going to act like Pell, you deserve to be called a country bumpkin, too.”
Point it out.
“Yes, I’ll be careful.”
“……No, I’m not a country bumpkin.”
I listen to their answers. The funny thing is, if you say a word to Lawford, Pell changes along with him. They gauge each other, care about one another, treat each other as rivals, and stand by each other’s backs.
Anyway, they’re funny guys.
“evil!”
Next to him, Theresa swings her shield with a shout.
“This is a defensive formation. If you push forward while pouring out intimidation, it creates a gap in the formation. You aren’t fighting alone.”
No one dared to say a word about Rem’s words. Thus, they created a virtual enemy, formed a tactical formation, scattered, and once again clashed swords in duel.
Audin cackled, and Dunbakel displayed a changed appearance, not through a physical transformation, but through an inner beast-manification.
Seeing this, Theresa was provoked and became even more heated. Needless to say, Roford and Pell were no exception.
This was the Order of the Mad Knights. This was their daily life.
Then, had only Rem changed? Just as Roford was influenced by Pell and Pell was influenced by Roford, the changes in Encred and Rem awakened the spirit of a genius swordsman.
No, it was beyond merely pounding and provoking; it was like stabbing a red-hot dagger into his head.
Ragnar, a genius, a man of heaven-sent talent, stood still holding his Sunrise.
Against the four.
How did Encred fight? Why didn’t he get pushed back? Why couldn’t I do that? Was it because it was a sparring match?
No, that’s just an excuse. It wouldn’t make much difference just because it was a real fight. I have to think that way to move forward.
Thoughts spiraled endlessly in Ragnar’s mind. It was a repetition of asking and answering questions, asking and pondering alone.
Even amidst training, Ragnar ruminated on his past life. He did so while swinging his sword, deflecting, parrying, and thrusting without a moment to think.
Then, the moment he looked inward, he saw a man who had lost his way. Blonde hair and red eyes. It was Ragnar himself.
He was on a pitch-black road, devoid of moonlight or starlight. There were no signposts, no roads. On this vast wasteland, Ragnar could not find his direction.
Where should I go?
Did I get lost again?
Where do I have to go?
Where is the way for me? Where is the road? How do I find my direction on a land with neither moon nor stars, and nothing else?
How? Where?
Ragnar was lost. He was swallowed by darkness. In the end, he could not even see his own hands.
Just like that, he stood frozen in place.
If you stop, you don’t have to find your way.
The moment I thought that, the stick in my hand emitted light. It is a sword symbolizing the sunrise, the rising sun. The blade that kills darkness scattered light.
Do you really want that?
“Stick,” Ilchul asked. Before Ragnar could answer, the shadow cast by the light from Ilchul stretched long to one side, illuminating the person standing at the end. It looked like a person made entirely of shadow.
There are no maps or signposts in life. That is why we need dreams, wishes, and aspirations.
If living is walking a path, then what is the map?
It is a dream. It is an aspiration. It is a goal. It is a wish. That was what it meant.
The face was obscured by shadows. The voices overlapped, making them indistinguishable.
Yet, it was fine even if they didn’t tell him who it was. After all, there was only one person around him who would speak like that.
Ragnar calmly, truly all too calmly, rose to his feet. A new world opens. He sees light, and standing where there is no path, he searches for where he must go. It wasn’t that difficult.
At least, that is how he felt right now. Hadn’t he found a path like this before?
It seemed as though he had.
Ragnar opened his mouth in a quiet, calm, and unwavering tone.
My milestone is.
It is to protect Anne. It is to do things that bring joy. It is to watch people laugh. It is to eat well-cooked beef stew. It is to swing the sword and go as far as one can.
This is the conclusion reached by combining all of these things. To live out the present, the life, the day, and ultimately live happily. That was his fervent wish and dream.
Ragnar admitted that his talent for finding his way was mediocre.
That is why he also knew that he had learned a little bit about how to find his way.
In reality, it would be fair to say that he had awakened after experiencing what is called frustration or despair upon seeing Encred.
A man who had been called a genius
his entire life was overtaken by an average or dullard. It would have been strange if he hadn’t been shocked. In any case, along with his realization of his own life, Ragnar felt an inner change and a change in Will.
Does one need to possess the purity of endlessly moving toward a single goal to increase one’s purity?
No, that is not it. Will is a vast ocean. Purity does not become diluted simply because one harbors too much.
Everyone takes a different path.
Therefore, it did not matter if Encred’s method and his own were different. Ragnar changed the purity of Will as if it were nothing.
He could not change all the Will flowing through his body at once, but it was enough to change it little by little, one by one.
He had just begun doing so.
As Ragnar fell into thought, Encred, who was facing him, quickly sensed the situation, adjusted his pace appropriately, and stopped fighting.
The drooping sun and the end of the sunrise, holding a soft light, pointed toward the earth.
Then, Ragnar opened his mouth.
Now I know how to find my way.
What drives life is a dream.
If you move toward what you desire, that is the path. There is no wrong path. Though there may be other paths.
Just then, a sunset shining down like a fantasy cut between the two knights. The sunrise, the sunset, and today harmonized with each other like a beautifully painted landscape.
Encred nodded, and Ragnar raised his sword again, feeling satisfied.
Rem, who had been watching from right beside them, narrowed his eyes.
That crazy guy is at it again.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he gave a reprimand. Just then, the fantastical sunset faded, and the darkness of evening descended. They had all been rolling around, engaging in tactical training and whatnot.
They were repeating the cycle of pointing their weapons at each other and gauging what they possessed.
At Rem’s words, Ragnar changed the direction of his sword. It was a perfect match for the Captain. He needed a different opponent.
Silently thrusting his sword forward, he raised the sunrise, reflecting on what he had just realized.
Don’t lose and whine.
Seeing that, Rem also bared his fangs and spoke with a smile. Then, the two clashed.
Encred stepped back as he watched the two geniuses rise, provoked by the challenge.
Taking on four at once might be a bit too much now.
It was then that a thought crossed his mind. He felt that he would be at a disadvantage in a sparring match, though it might be different if it were a life-or-death battle.
Along with this thought, he twisted his waist to pull away. If asked why, it was because he had sensed Saxon’s presence, his intimidation, and his momentum. He
turned to look behind him, but Saxon was not there.
To be precise, he couldn’t see him with his eyes, but his sixth sense warned him. Enkrid closed his eyes. It was an instinctive judgment that he shouldn’t rely on his vision.
At the same time, he saw arrows flying from all directions. They were illusions drawn out by intimidation to deceive the senses; if he just took them, his muscles would freeze instantly.
Because if he thought he was being slashed and stabbed by blades, his body would naturally trigger its defense mechanisms.
He erected a fortress today. A wall of refusal to block the arrows.
And among the hundreds of arrows, one with a different tip pierced the wall and struck his chest.
earth!
It was a corner of the training ground where not a single loud sound could be heard. Before anyone realized it, Enkrid had been pushed to the side of a tree in the corner.
Saxon, who had been waiting behind the tree, extended his dagger, and Enkrid stood up to block it.
To someone who knew nothing, it would have looked like nothing more than Enkrid suddenly jumping to the side of the tree and Saxon thrusting his dagger and blocking. However, what the two felt was different.
“Where should I hide the leaves?”
Encred asked while holding today upright.
I hide it in the forest.
Saxony answered.
“What do you do if there is no forest?”
“I create a forest and hide it.”
Where is the best time and place to stab from a hidden position?
A quiet room? When asleep? While using the restroom? When emotions are wavering?
None of these. It is when vigilance is heightened and one’s mind is distracted.
There is a saying in hunting beasts that one must wait for the moment to strike the prey.
It was just like that. If it were an ordinary opponent—not a knight, but someone with poor senses of perception—it would actually not matter.
But what if it were such an opponent? What should one do if it were someone who detects every single stealth and tracks one down every time?
Saxen had effectively shown how to kill Encred.
And he did so without even having another opponent in front of him; he had lured and manipulated him by spreading his intimidation and killing intent to bring about the desired result.
The corners of Saxen’s mouth curled up. Encred smiled back and asked.
“Is it fun?”
“Yes.”
The Q&A was over. Encred insisted on a head-on confrontation, which he considered Saxon’s weakness, and drove him into a corner.
Clang! The sound of blades clashing was deafening.
They had spent several days engaging in tactical training, individual sparring, and general drills. The group of soldiers who had initially mingled had all dropped out, leaving only the Mad Knights.
In terms of time, it was the beginning of autumn, as the hot summer bid farewell and passed.
Although it was still hot, the weather was now warm enough to move around during the day. They
had naturally gathered at the table to wash, rest, and eat.
Encred sat in the center, with Rem and Ragnar on his left and right, Audin and Saxon beside them, and Sinar opposite with Esther beside him.
Pell, Roford, Theresa, and Dunbakel took their places in between.
Dunbakel chewed on a lamb skewer while soothing his trembling sword.
This is really delicious.
Kreis nodded with a shiny face. He looked around, spoke, and then stopped his gaze on Dunbakel.
“I heard the chef has been agonizing over this for the past few days. A thoroughly washed Dunbachel is truly precious.”
Having sweated profusely during training, there was no way she could go without washing. Dunbakel immersed herself in the bathtub to get rid of the smell.
In the past, washing like this would have made her legs tremble with anxiety, but not anymore. It was
a little uncomfortable, but not to the point of being tormented by anxiety. No, she actually felt a bit of composure.
Her sword, Crimson, was just comforting her, telling her it was okay.
Now, listen while you eat.
Kreis clapped his hands and said.
