1067. Let’s go, let’s go
Theresa spread her left hand wide forward. When the soldier standing in front saw it, he felt as if he were being tightly gripped by the half-giant’s hand.
Heavy inspection.
It is a technique that restrains the opponent by pressing them down with heavy momentum and creating pressure, and he did it with just his left hand.
“after!”
The soldier exhaled from his lower abdomen, shaking off the intimidation. With enough willpower, any intimidation can be overcome.
It is called the Will of Refusal. Push away and reject what binds your body and mind.
It is a technique that Encred personally taught to every member of the standing army. Of course, just because they were taught didn’t mean everyone knew how to do it.
Still, the soldier facing Theresa right now knew how. Thanks to that, he has become one of her sparring partners.
For the same reason, the soldier standing to her right, Marco, knew how to do it,
as did the soldier on her left and behind Theresa.
They were a unit called the Encred Royal Guard. They were the ones who had reached this point because they were the most obsessed with training, even among the standing army.
On one side, their captain—a knight of the Order nicknamed “Fallen Clemen”—was watching the sparring with an upright posture.
Coolness and passion coexist in Clemen’s eyes. She awakened Will based on these two conflicting emotions and delved into them to hone her skills repeatedly.
This is still part of that process.
Anyway, the four of them, including the spearman Marco, had just stepped forward as sparring partners to help Theresa rehabilitate her shield.
‘monster.’
Such words naturally come to mind. He claimed to have received a new type of shield and was learning how to use it, yet why was he pressuring four people at once with intimidation?
Yet, his eyes were as calm as a lake, devoid of a single ripple.
The soldier shook off the intimidation with a refusal and swung his sword away. Muscles bulged above his jaw due to his tightly clenched molars. For a greatsword to be his primary weapon, its blade was longer and thicker than his body.
Just as that thick blade was about to touch Theresa’s head, his left arm—which had somehow been raised and was clad in a round shield—touched the greatsword that had reached right up to his hair before pulling away.
Thump.
Huh?
The soldier’s strength drained from both hands with a single blow. Theresa’s eyes remained simply calm. They glanced at her briefly and turned to the side. The
Half-Titan extended her right hand toward the left, grasped the spear Marco had extended, pulled it back, and kicked him in the stomach.
Although she had controlled her strength, it was a kick imbued with the power of a Half-Titan and a knight. Marco collapsed to the ground without letting out a single groan.
The strike was so technical that his body didn’t fly through the air; instead, only his feet lifted slightly before he tumbled straight forward. Anyone
who didn’t get terrified at that sight was no human.
Then, she smoothly swung her shield, pushing away the two spearheads approaching from behind and the opposite side as if deflecting them.
Thump.
At that, two soldiers also retreated as their arms went numb.
The four were pushed back in an instant. Pell the shepherd, who had arrived at some point, saw the four and spoke.
“You held the weapon wrong. You should have gripped it with firm resolve.”
“Even if you had gripped it with firm resolve, you would have been pushed back. You mixed Transference and Waves.”
If Pell spoke from right behind the soldier holding the greatsword, Roford spoke from three steps to the left, with his left hand resting on his sword grip.
“You lack effort.”
“Hard the technique itself. Firmly resolve yourself and wield your weapon until the calluses on your hands burst.”
Pell and Lawford took turns throwing out a remark, which was no different from both sides taking a hit.
Theresa caught her breath, swung the shield attached to the back of her left hand this way and that, and adjusted her angle to reflect the sunlight before speaking.
It would be fine if both the country bumpkin and the snob came.
Just moments ago, it was literally a sparring session meant only to warm up. It was a process of getting used to the new shield and lightly applying what she had mentally gauged about how to use it.
After doing it once, she had a rough grasp of it. Theresa had expressed joy at receiving a new weapon from Eitri. Since she had already changed her shield, she also changed the weapon she held in her right hand.
A battle hammer slightly larger than the ordinary one swung from her waist, making its presence known.
Then, the two she had called out each spoke a word.
“Surely you aren’t planning to take on both of us at the same time?”
“Is your dream too big, or is it fearlessness?”
“Probably both.”
While Pell spoke first, Roford answered, and Pell replied again, Theresa burst out laughing and pounded her chest with her fist.
“Your older sister will indulge your antics. Come on, come into this eldest sister’s arms.”
“The giant has finally gone mad.”
“Did you say you took that shield from the Balrog? It seems to be affecting my mind.”
No matter what was said, Lawford and Pell hung out with Theresa. Theresa ultimately couldn’t win, but she didn’t give up easily either. At the end of the fight, Theresa shouted.
“I’m the eldest!”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
“No matter what anyone says, it’s a given that Dunbakel is the youngest.”
Pell and Roford each chimed in. It was the kind of thing Dunbakel would likely have shouted at them to immediately shut up and fight if he had heard it.
* * *
“They call him the youngest, Dunbakel, outside, right?”
The beastman with crimson eyes turned Dunbakel’s inner self upside down time and time again. He pierced his fatal spots as if looking right into his heart.
At times, it cut through sharper than a blade.
“who!”
Dunbakel suddenly lost his temper.
A gap caused by the expression of emotion.
Whenever my heart wavered and my movements became exaggerated, he would find an opening as if he had been waiting, stab, rummage, and spread my legs open to thrust his sword.
A short, sharp blade—a span shorter than my own sword—casually pierced my heart and slipped away. It felt as if a fire-red blade had burrowed through the bones of my chest.
Yet, there was almost no pain. Only a dull sensation, as if my body were floating as if drowning, accompanied by the darkness of the surroundings. As soon
as the lights went out, I opened my eyes to find the stone coffin and the red-eyed beast holding the aforementioned short sword looking at me once again.
“Daughter, are you ready to fight?”
The repetitive questions heated the blood swirling within his body. At the same time, his vitality boiled up .
Did I tell you not to transform? To the dogs.
Dunbakel did not hold back. Using a shred of reason as an anchor, he unleashed the vitality swirling through his body. In an instant, his entire body was covered in fur. Transformed into a white lion standing on two legs, Dunbakel leaped forward.
Kuhuhu!
The wild nature hidden deep inside burst forth.
I said get ready to fight.
As I rushed forward, an indifferent voice brushed past my ears.
Bang!
Dunbakel used his long-growing fingernails instead of a blade. Then, for the first time, he struck the blade aimed at his stomach with his hand.
“Okay, if this is preparation for a fight, are you prepared to battle fear?”
He had surrendered his body to instinct instead of reason. There was no answer. Whether even his oral structure had changed, Dunbakel cried like a beast once again instead of answering.
Krung!
A ruthless and violent body unleashed its power. It looked as though it would tear apart anything that caught its fingernails. It was fully prepared to bare its fangs and bite down on anything that got in its way.
Thump!
The moment the opponent’s thigh came into view, he actually opened his mouth wide and then closed it. Even though the attack was raging like a storm, the opponent dodged, riding the wind here and there like a reed unshakable by the blast.
As if showing off his flexible muscles, he dodged by clinging tightly to the ground and leaped sideways to escape the attack range.
There wasn’t much difference in their agility, yet one utilized it perfectly while the other poured all his energy into linear movements.
After dodging a few times, the beastman with crimson eyes swung his sword upward and thrust. With that light slash, Dunbakel, who had been charging at him, was pierced from his jaw to his head.
“I guess I’ll have to get ready to fight again, won’t I?”
It is a voice heard as reason returns while the world darkens.
“Aaaargh!”
Dunbakel shouted as soon as he woke up. Had he lost his reason from the start this time? No.
He was pouring out the remnants of emotion left over from the process of realizing his mistakes and retracing them one by one through a shout.
Are you ready to battle your fears?
The savings account holder asked.
Cut the nonsense.
Dunbakel quietly composed himself. He had put his doubts aside, but the repetition of this was driving him crazy. But who would benefit from going crazy in this situation?
Dunbakel used his only advantage to quietly organize his thoughts.
That only advantage was that if he did not show his momentum, reveal hostility, or charge first, the opponent would not attack immediately.
After composing myself.
Calming hostility. Controlling my mind like sediment settled at the bottom of a river.
“That’s right, that’s how it should be. You are preparing to battle your fears. Control your mind. If you lose control even a little bit there, a hole will appear in your body or head again.”
Cover up doubts and forget questions. Dunbakel focused solely on the present moment.
What to do, how to do it.
The art of fighting while concealing hostility, the art of prioritizing reason over instinct.
Already before I arrived.
I honed it while getting thoroughly beaten up by that bastard Rem. It would have been really hard to notice if I hadn’t rolled around in the madman under the name of training, though.
It’s better than I expected.
The other person speaks. Conversely, Dunbakel’s eyes remained unwavering, as if revealing his composure.
“Catch your breath. If the transformation is driven by instinct, control your mind. You stupid stinky worm. Whether it is vitality, Will, or magical power, whatever it is, it is a formless force that originates in the mind. If it does not move as you wish, it is not your power.”
It was safe to say that the Rem of today was a completely different person from when he first taught Enkrid. He was articulate and excellent at explaining things.
Although Dunbakel would never speak in front of Rem in his lifetime, he was a good teacher.
Calm down the hostility.
Instinct is hidden behind the back.
“What about preparing to fight, if not to contend with fear?”
I had composed myself, but as if there was a limit to how long I could wait, the other person approached, kicking the ground repeatedly.
“That is today’s lesson. Do not lose your readiness to fight just because you are battling fear.”
“Bullshit.”
Blades crossed amidst the conversation. Dunbakel brought his scimitar down with all his might, while his opponent twisted to the side and thrust his sword.
Dunbakel turned to dodge as well, but before he knew it, the blade was embedded in his stomach.
“You should learn something from admonishment, descendant.”
“I said shut your bullshit.”
This time, I didn’t die immediately. However, separate from death, the surroundings turned pitch black, and it was the starting point all over again.
“Did you think death was the end? It’s not. Now, are you ready to fight? Ready to battle your fears?”
Dunbakel wandered in search of a way. Should he give up, saying there was no answer, that he didn’t know?
No, he hadn’t been taught that way. Because he had learned how to live life by watching Encred’s back.
Let’s try again.
So, he does his best at every moment. Dunbakel picked up his sword.
“Okay, let’s make this today’s lesson. Not giving up isn’t everything. If you stop here and put your mind to rest, it will actually be easier.”
The other person urged him to take the easy way out. Dunbakel scoffed at such a person.
If I were going to live like that, I wouldn’t have come this far.
It was as if he had said exactly what my captain was going to say.
“I’m telling you, this is a really cute descendant.”
Jeokgeum’s eyes narrowed. His finely curved eyes were filled with joy, and a smile spread across his entire face, as if he were desperate to express the ecstasy he was feeling.
A light shone through his narrowed eyes. A strange sense of pressure weighed down on Dunbakel’s shoulders.
At this rate, isn’t he fighting better than Encred? That thought briefly crossed his mind. Though, nothing would change.
Let’s go, let’s go.
Dunbakel cheered himself on inwardly. No one wanted his existence, yet he had lived and reached this point.
He had survived even though the city where he grew up did not want him. Through that process, Dunbakel learned how to cherish and support himself.
Just as he was steeling himself, the Savings Prisoner asked.
“We are on the inside, so what do you think you are doing on the outside?”
“What?”
“On the outside, you are desperately trying to kill people indiscriminately.”
It is a remark that constantly pierces the heart.
“Youngest.”
It is also a title that constantly cuts into the heart.
“Who said I’m the youngest?”
Dunbakel did not get agitated or angry like he had earlier. If you let yourself be swayed by what the other person says, you lose before the fight even begins.
If you lose, you stand at the starting point again. Dunbakel hated that. And he had survived to the end and come this far precisely to avoid doing what he hated.
“Come here, Seonjo, you ghost bound by the past.”
“As expected, a reprimand is best done with a rod, isn’t it?”
As their conversation went awry, their blades aimed at each other once again.
