1045. Yeah, I like the sound of a bear shapeshifter crying.
Rem was somewhat shocked by everything he experienced in the Empire. In particular, the faces of the people he met there were truly fresh to him.
Look at these bastards.
He was the greatest warrior and hero of the West. He was the master of a majesty whom no one dared to challenge.
Furthermore, having gone through all manner of experiences since coming out onto the continent, he had improved far beyond his past self, even in his own estimation.
After all, hadn’t he fought against all sorts of things alongside Encred?
Gwangya, what do you think?
A vast, empty field—the name Wilderness is the true name of my descended weapon. Something vast and boundless does not overflow no matter what is contained within it, and because it is empty, it is suitable for receiving a god.
There are this many good players?
The guy attacking Encred, that bastard Count Coty, the Four Great Knights of the Empire, and even the Commander of the Imperial Knights.
Ah, this is something.
“I crave training.
” That thought kept popping into his head. It must be because of that captain. He was certain of it. In the past, he would never have felt such a seething desire.
With no intention of waiting for the future, Rem infused everything he had seen, felt, and experienced into his spells. Whenever he had a spare moment, he swung his axe and added what he had learned and mastered to what he already possessed.
Renewal.
Does sorcery have purity? Indules, it hasn’t been long since you substituted the change of nature with a simultaneous descent and mastered it.
But what are you doing here again?
But then again, he has no choice but to do it. After all, isn’t a crazy person chasing him from behind
, even if they have to crawl away? He always appears to have reached the present having used up all the luck of his life, yet he ultimately moves forward as if he were born anew, defying death.
No, do I have to chase it now?
Is that what you’re trying to say? Is that why you’re telling the two of you to come at me?
Rem hadn’t found the answer to reform yet. He was contemplating it, adding a few Western concepts like the Shade Gatherer. Whatever the case, he had no intention of meekly taking it.
“You talk too much, you worthless piece of trash. Aren’t you coming in?”
Encred spoke. The veins on Rem’s forehead vanished. Instead, he laughed. “Wow, that provocation is truly top-notch.
He really is a person from whom I can learn a lot.”
Rem chuckled.
“No, Captain. I mean, what I’m trying to say is…….”
Rem’s left hand moved in the middle of speaking. What the hand, leaving only an afterimage, launched was a disc faster than sound.
Bang!
Encred thrust his sword at the disc flying through the air with a deafening roar. It was a thrust that precisely struck the central axis of the throwing axe to neutralize its force.
Kwa-ga-gak.
The axe handle got caught on the end of the sack and stuck. Encred nonchalantly grabbed the axe with his other hand, pulled it out, and threw it to the side. With a thud, the axe thrown by Rem stuck into the ground.
“What do you want to say?”
Encred is certainly a step ahead of the Deceptive Sword.
After all, he is the kind of person who names one of his own swordsmanship styles “Encred-style Authentic Swordsmanship.”
He is not shaken in the slightest by things like interrupting his speech and throwing something. Meanwhile, the sunrise over Ragnar cast a yellow light. It was proof that it had heated up. Ragnar pondered deeply.
Has it changed much from before?
The Captain looks somehow different.
It was only a few days ago that we sparred, wasn’t it? He looks different again now. I was already surprised back then. That Captain, who seemed like he would die with a single touch, has now surpassed me.
Being surprised was only natural, but my competitive spirit was also ignited.
In terms of talent alone, Ragnar is the greatest on the continent, a genius rarely seen even in the Empire.
He has never once seen anyone surpass him. Yet, such a person is standing right before my eyes.
I feel my blood boiling. It is not surging anger, though; rather, a pleasant heat surges through my entire body.
A hot energy runs through my body. Today, I will be able to wield a sword sharper and heavier than on any other day.
It is what my intuition tells me. Ragnar’s eyes settled calmly. My body is hot, but my head is cold.
If you block, I will cut you down.
He imbued the red-hot blade with the determination to cut.
Even if what lay before him were the hardest metal in the world, it would split in two upon contact.
As he made up his mind, his body moved.
Ragnar stepped forward with a thud and plunged his greatsword vertically down. To Encred, it was a blade suddenly falling from above his head. It looked just like a bolt of lightning.
It was a modified heavysword technique passed down through the Zaun clan. He had incorporated Will’s transformation into the method of transmitting physical power.
Matching Will’s explosive transformation, the blade sped up midway. Originally, this strike was called “Thunderclap” because the accelerated blade left a zigzag trail in its wake, but now only a chilling line remained.
Hmph.
The sword strokes, which looked like they could cut through anything, struck only empty air.
“Where are you looking to cut?”
It was exactly half a step away. Encred asked. *Pararak*, the wind raised by the greatsword scattered his cloak and hair. As if waiting for this moment, an axe flew in from beside Encred, who had just opened his mouth.
Encred blocked and pushed the axe away by standing it vertically to the ground, as if demonstrating a prepared move. He used that force to retreat.
“Even if I lose an arm or a leg, the potion seller will fix it, right?”
Rem spoke, holding the axe in front of his face, while Ragnar silently aimed at the sunrise once again.
Ragnar felt strange again.
Not one.
It wasn’t just the captain who had overtaken him. The barbarian next to him was too. Although he was extremely displeased with that, Ragnar found himself smiling without realizing it.
I didn’t know I would be able to avoid that just a moment ago.
Encreed seized the present and aimed forward. Speed and strength—the side superior in those two things has the advantage. Of course, that is not everything.
Judgment, intuition.
Was it called the Heart of a Beast? That technique would no longer be needed. I can tell by looking into Encred’s eyes. They are filled with composure even amidst the pressure.
On top of that, the barbarian’s specialty.
It would be fair to call it instantaneous tactical adaptability or immediacy. Every judgment made in the realm of the unconscious, reacting instantly without going through thought, is correct.
Immediacy used to be the specialty of barbarians, but now the Captain is just as good. No, it feels like he is strangely a little ahead.
The sense of distance is unbelievably accurate, too.
There is not even the slightest margin of error, as if measured with a ruler. His inner sense of measuring distance is different.
He possessed an extraordinary sense of spatial awareness, perfectly grasping the distance between his body and the opponent’s weapon as if measured with a ruler.
His tactical spatial perception was good by nature.
Enkrid was someone who used his skills unconsciously by training fiercely in his daily life, but when fighting, he was someone who also used his cold head.
The sensation of pressure is different here.
The sensation of pressure refers to feeling the subtle vibrations and weight when swords clash.
Through that instantaneous sensation, one discerns whether the opponent is feigning a move or where they are turning.
If I were to analyze the moment of our swords clashing by dividing it into ten segments, Encred observes it ten times more meticulously.
The time they perceive must be different. It was certain.
This was the first time I had felt this way since becoming a knight. I hadn’t felt this way even when facing that Balrog.
“Whenever someone worse than you appears, you will understand how I feel.”
It is something I commonly heard at the Jaun family. Later, during my time as a mercenary, I heard even harsher things.
“…I suppose this is what you call deprivation?”
“The world is unfair.”
“Ha, I thought I was the best.”
Among them were comrades, and many who had stepped forward as enemies. Ragnar now spat out inwardly the words they had all spoken from their hearts.
‘monster.’
Rem used Spirit Summoning from the side. A gray light shimmered over the body.
So, are you going to stop?
Ragnar recalled the black-haired, blue-eyed man who, whether rain or snow, clear or cloudy, would wake up in the morning and wield his sword alone.
He never stopped, not even once. He never spoke of deprivation, nor did he cry out that it was unfair or unjust. He never spat out a complaint about being late. He never expressed dissatisfaction.
That is the smile that followed. He would not be like that either. He held no complaints or grievances.
Wrapped in Will, he raised his sword. The sunrise cast its light. Now, it was a faint red hue.
It was a sword that harbored heat rather than emitting flames outwardly.
“Barbarian, if we lose here, we’ll both have to reflect on ourselves.”
“Huh? Is that even a proper thing to say?”
“Then I’ll do my best.”
Rem looked at Ragnar with eyes that were grayish from the divine possession. After blinking twice, he asked.
“The potion maker didn’t give you any bad medicine, did he?”
Is this bastard out of his mind? What kind of nonsense is he suddenly spouting?
Ragnar Zaun, that lazy bastard—with his small appetite, tendency to oversleep at the drop of a hat, and always lethargic—has just uttered the word “best.”
“Ow, that gives me goosebumps, you bastard, just say something fitting.”
Rem shuddered. Ragnar ignored the barbarian.
“The best of a genius. Wow, that sounds interesting.”
And Encred ran his mouth without a break. It was as if he had a separate skill for sarcasm. Those words that came out every time this happened truly gnawed at one’s nerves.
Rem charged forward, while Ragnar struck from the side in an arc. Both possessed a high level of tactical understanding.
It might be different if they had no intention of coordinating, but right now, they were of one mind and heart. If they lost here, they would both become failures and fools.
Yet, they lost.
It was thanks to the ability that Ragnar had grasped through uncharacteristic deep contemplation. Encred was superior in every aspect: immediacy, tactical spatial awareness, sense of distance, pressure, judgment, and quick wit.
It was the result of adding faster movements and sword strikes with absurd weight to that.
Neither Rem nor Ragnar had risked their lives, but they felt the same thing just from the sparring alone.
The gap is clear.
So, if you ask if they were overwhelmed by a sense of defeat, there is no reason to. Ragnar reflected on what he had realized while fighting just moments ago, and Rem felt the same way.
Hey, he really became a monster.
He spoke and took a step back. Would they feel wronged just because they lost to an opponent they once looked down on? They weren’t the type to do that. Nor were they the type to speak carelessly.
Both of them cleanly admitted defeat. Of course, just because they admitted it today doesn’t mean tomorrow will be the same.
It truly must be called a terrifying talent. Both grew through fighting. They changed little by little.
“Don’t you need a little rest, brother?”
It was the words of Audin, who had been watching.
It was a body that was now completely intact, no matter what kind of body it was. It was a recovery ability that even Ann was astonished by.
It was a characteristic possessed by a person with divinity flowing within their body, along with a god of regeneration.
“Ah, there is a thing called Usuke, a well that never runs dry and a river that never stops.”
There is no way Audin wouldn’t know. Encred is just getting on people’s nerves once again, just as he always does.
“So it’s fine, but since it’s the second opponent, if we lose helplessly here, does that mean we’re worse than them?”
Encred spoke, pointing his chin at Rem and Ragnar, who had stepped aside.
“So you’re telling me to stop talking nonsense and come at you? Good grief.”
“Ah, did you say it was a declaration of sanctuary?”
Enkrid asked in a passing tone. He was pretending to know, having heard the story of Audin capturing the demon.
“Yes, Brother.”
“It would feel too pointless if I couldn’t use that right now. I have the bear shapeshifter’s superhuman strength now, too.”
He spoke, revealing his arm muscles. Wearing nothing but a single leather glove instead of the previously broken gauntlet, and with nothing wrapped around his forearms, his flesh was clearly exposed.
Muscles capable of slapping a statue in the face had bulged. His body was certainly more toned than when he first saw him. Both his entire physique and every part had developed frighteningly.
Did they say he used Will for training?
Audin smiled with joy, but what the captain’s brother had said still bothered him.
“Brother, do you prefer love or mercy?”
“Hmm, I like the sound of a bear shapeshifter crying.”
At this point, even a goddess, not just Audin, would be annoyed.
While the two were talking, Enkrid casually turned his body, twisted his pelvis, leaned to the side, and kicked the top of his head.
phut!
It was a kick to the blade of Saxon’s sword, who had just concealed himself and was pouncing.
With that, Saxon flew sideways and landed silently on the ground. With that, he silenced his presence once again. Even though Saxon was clearly right in front of him, his figure appeared blurry, as if enveloped in a hazy fog. It was truly an amazing feat.
“It looks like you decided on the tactics in advance over here?”
Enkrid opened his mouth, smiled, and continued speaking.
“Let’s see, the bear shapeshifter is drawing attention from the front, so he’s going to hold out because he has that much stamina. And the wild cat is going to keep looking for an opening? Wow, so he wasn’t just sitting around watching?”
It is a constant provocation.
“Brother, are you planning to have a brief audience with the Lord today?”
It means I’m going to half-kill you.
That is welcome news.
Encred just keeps smiling sweetly.
