928. Both
“You will die like that too.”
The boatman spoke. Today’s boatman was wearing a shimmering purple veil covering his face. At some point, I could see his features, but not today. He seemed to be wearing a mask. Or was it makeup?
“Did you put some makeup on that face?”
Encred said. It was a question about what he covered his face because it was so ugly.
The light that obscured the boatman’s face flickered for a moment. He didn’t reveal his embarrassment by asking again.
“That’s a bad joke.”
Encred rose from his position against the deck. The railing was higher than before. It was larger than the previous ship.
A place he’d passed through in a dream within a dream came to mind. Atop a similar ship, a swordsman fought, swinging his sword with something like a string wrapped around it.
All around him, monsters the size of human heads relentlessly rushed in, tearing at his body.
‘Jaws and teeth that could crush human bones in an instant.’
Of course it was a monster. Just as the monster encyclopedia, compiled by countless scholars, is always incomplete, it’s impossible to know every monster in the world. That’s why this was my first time seeing it.
‘Each individual was dangerous.’
The numbers were truly terrifying. Thousands? No, tens of thousands. Everywhere but the ship was their territory.
Trapped in the middle of that territory, fighting, fighting, and dying. Even that dream passed.
Even the dreamer, despite being a man of considerable skill, couldn’t endure it.
His final moments were spent planting his sword in the ground, kneeling on one knee in resignation. That was the attitude of someone who had accepted something.
“Do you think it will be different because it is your last?”
Even if you’re not very perceptive, it’s not hard to figure out what the dream you just had means.
The sailor’s dream.
To be precise, it was the end of countless sailors.
They said that revealing their own end would not be beautiful for Encred either.
If words didn’t make sense, I gave examples. But since even examples didn’t convince, I should say I showed them the reality.
“You’re working hard.”
This is what he said after seeing through all of that. Even the boatman knew that Encred had seen through his intentions.
“Your future is a drop of water on a rippling line. You can’t move forward forever.”
Even the slightest jolt would cause her to fall and become part of the pitch-black river.
The purple waves that obscured the boatman’s face rippled. Encred rose from her seat and looked directly into the boatman’s eyes. She gazed at the face hidden behind the purple mask.
“What do you want to say?”
To this extent, his heart remained unchanged. The boatman could not have been unaware of this.
His inner thoughts were like the filling of a well-baked pie. If it were apple pie, the refreshing aroma would reveal its contents, and if it were well-ground meat, the savory aroma would reveal its contents first. The
boatman’s actions now were similar. The only difference was that he didn’t want to reveal what was inside him.
But can smells be hidden even if you try to hide them?
What is the identity of that faint scent?
Hesitation? Hesitation?
I caught a glimpse of something like that. The moment I observed and recognized it, the boatman tore off the purple mask covering my face with his left hand.
There was no sound, but a crunch—like a hallucination—was audible. The purple mask stretched out like a sticky mucus, then snapped and fell.
The boatman tore off the mask and threw it into the dark river.
“It’s frustrating.”
The boatman’s tone changed, and he revealed his face. To Encred, his gray skin looked like another mask.
The boatman spoke, his green eyes gleaming. His gaze pierced through whatever was obscuring his face.
“If you had to choose between the two, what would you do? It’s time to solve the dilemma, mortal.”
This time, the voice sounded excited.
Thump.
That woke him up from his dream. Dreams are just dreams, Encred said, not caring much about them as he got out of bed.
It was another day. It was preparation for the swordsmanship Chrys had spoken of, a time to stock up on what he needed to face the demon.
The servant who ran errands like fetching water every morning asked at the door.
“Would you like lamb or pork for breakfast this morning?”
Knights eat a lot. Encred, among them, ate even more than the average knight.
Maintaining his extraordinary strength and agility required a plentiful supply of nutrients.
Furthermore, it was only natural that his digestive abilities would develop.
The attendant in charge of Encred’s breakfast, tailored to his schedule, knew this well. That’s why the Knight Commander I was serving today didn’t sound all that awkward.
“Both.”
He eats both sheep and pigs to his heart’s content. That’s Encrid’s choice.
‘Is this perhaps a dilemma where I have to choose between two?’
Choosing what to eat is a daily struggle. Encrid, however, chose to eat most everything.
-How could that be?
The captain’s fantasy seemed to click its tongue.
* * *
“What kind of people live in Jawoon?”
Lawford bent his knees and bit the neck of the poisonous snake hiding beneath his feet.
Sigh.
I could have drawn my engraved weapon, the one named Rampart, without bending my leg, but I insisted on drawing my shortsword and stabbing him. I felt it was a waste to stain my sword with the demon’s blood.
“If you are not used to the weapon, you should swing it in the air.”
Ragnar answered. It wasn’t an answer to a question, but an answer to an action.
“okay.”
Lawford readily agreed. If you cherish a engraved weapon, you’ll end up unfamiliar with it and risk danger. It was a lesson contained in a few words.
Lawford reflected on it several times, taking it to heart.
For an ordinary person, it would be a mountain range they’d risk their lives to overcome, but for these two, it wasn’t an arduous path.
While a few monsters and beasts occasionally appeared, they were both knights. Furthermore, one of them, though recently broken, was a universally acknowledged genius.
Had the other not been a mad knight, he would have been skilled enough to rival any order’s successor.
“People just live there. There’s nothing else there.”
Ragna finally answered about Zawoon, but even as he spoke, he felt awkward. The words that came out of his mouth felt like eating a terribly tasteless stew.
“okay.”
Lawford didn’t ask any further questions, and the two continued on their way to Zaun. Ragnar, glancing through the forest, insisted on a shortcut, but Lawford, having been brainwashed by Chrys and even received a map from Encred, turned a deaf ear to his suggestion.
“Yes, that’s the shortcut.”
He just answered and went his way.
“Your answers and actions are different, Lawford.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Ragnar, observing Roford, thought to himself, “Somehow, everyone seems to be taking on some aspect of their leader.”
Roford, though sly, calmly guided Ragnar. And, true to his word, whenever a monster or beast appeared, he swung his weapon.
“When swinging downwards, use all your strength. If you let go of the force as you’re about to strike, your next move will be blocked. If the opponent you thought was dead cheated, you’ve just died. Don’t blindly trust your instincts.”
To Lawford, Ragnar’s every word was more precious than gold.
Though his expressions were crude and his explanations were as clumsy as a seven-year-old’s patchwork of clothes with holes in them.
‘The point is clear.’
As a knight, you become increasingly reliant on intuition. Don’t fight solely on that. I did
n’t understand everything. Some things sounded incomprehensible. But that didn’t matter.
Lawford had spent a long time in the Mad Knights. He’d learned the art of listening from Encred. He
didn’t ignore his experience with the Red Cloak Knights, either, and reflected on the necessary aspects.
If you can’t understand it, memorize it.
During his time in the capital, he memorized everything he didn’t know and mulled it over. Back then, it was rare to find someone kind enough to point out the right path. Many people simply aimed to get a word in from the occasional knight.
If Fel specialized in sensation, Lawford was definitely more intelligent. He knew how to think.
Perhaps that’s why Crys sought him out whenever something happened.
In any case, some of the key points of Ragna’s words resonated deeply with him, and he instantly understood them.
Naturally, this was possible only through the hard work and dedication he accumulated each day.
‘How to prepare for the deceptive sword.’
A saying that says to focus on the perfection of technology rather than its appearance.
‘Even with one swing of the sword, it must be done with intention.’
Use techniques appropriate to your intentions. Lawford repeatedly reflected on and ruminated on what he had learned. If he slacked off even a little here, he’d be overtaken by the Pell cubs.
‘That won’t work.’
Ragnar, moreover, wasn’t a man interested in others. It was rare for him to teach others something like this. Lawford didn’t miss the opportunity.
“It was okay to swing my sword and follow.”
The meaning of the words he’d thrown out this time was to use the sword before the feet. The subject was missing from the statement that it was okay to follow, but Lawford understood it as if possessed. Whether
sword or spear, the foundation of combat is the feet. Naturally, Lawford, being a knight himself, had solid knowledge of the basics. Then, just a moment ago, Ragnar had uttered a remark that deviated from that foundation.
‘Why the sword first?’
It was a technique that Ragna reinterpreted using Oara’s sword.
‘If it continues, it’s the same.’
A knight can perform moves that ordinary people would never dare attempt. Even if he bends back and extends his sword, he can split skulls like a ripe pumpkin.
‘The point of force is constantly changing.’
This is what Ragnar preached, a core message.
It would be foolish not to blindly trust a knight’s intuition, and not to utilize what a knight can do.
“The way you use will is crude.”
I agree with that. Lawford has always fought that way, sticking to the basics and never crossing the line.
This is the opposite of Pell, who constantly crosses the line.
‘Wasn’t that my weapon?’
Ragna didn’t explain. He simply threw out the words he needed at that moment.
It was up to me to accept them.
‘The more weapons the better?’
Suddenly, Encred’s words came to mind. Night falls early in the mountains, and the lopsided sunlight creates a winter sunset. The sun was setting.
The light was fading with incredible speed. Shadows stretched, and the lingering light seemed to split into dozens of colors.
The day was ending. It heralded the end of today. Lawford felt one of his fixed thoughts crumble.
“Be outstanding in one thing, then change that outstandingness back to ordinary, and when everything is in balance, break the balance again.”
It was something I could say, having climbed from the bottom, having seen every peak before climbing.
Lawford felt those words resonate deeply with him.
‘I destroy the world I created and refill it.’
When it’s full, it empties again. If you want to move forward, you have to do it.
Making everything you have ordinary isn’t easy, though.
‘I’ll do it anyway.’
That’s how you move forward, that’s how you achieve what you want.
Neither Ragnar nor Lawford felt bored. They each had their own way of thinking. Lawford was obsessed with swordsmanship and technique, while Ragnar reflected on what he’d said.
‘Just a person.’
This was the answer to the question, “What kind of people live in Jaun?”
It was a question I blurted out without thinking, as Lawford asked. My mouth felt a lump in my throat as I spoke.
For some reason, the thought kept running through my head the entire way. If it had been before, I would have excused myself, making excuses about being bothered. It was also a part of me, but now I didn’t.
‘I don’t use my weaknesses as excuses.’
To Encred, the excuses that he lost because he didn’t have enough time, because he didn’t have enough talent, because he didn’t have enough money were just excuses.
Then again, they were excuses for himself, too.
‘If you don’t have enough, do what you have.’
Wasn’t that the most impressive sight my captain had ever shown me?
Ragna looked back at himself.
Had he ever observed the people living within Zaun with interest? I don’t remember any such thing.
‘Walking the set path is boring.’
Boredom was the chain that shackled Ragnar’s life. He used it as an excuse to ignore everything and pay no attention to anyone.
He walked, lost in thought.
“Little brother?”
It was near the city of Zaun. Someone who recognized Ragna readily approached him.
“draw.”
Ragna also recognized his opponent.
“what?”
A woman with a greatsword approached briskly. She didn’t seem wary. However, she spoke with a hint of disappointment.
“You didn’t come with me? Is our Enki doing well?”
Lawford knew what she expected without even asking.
‘The Knight of the Devil.’
Should we say that Captain Encred’s nickname shines?
“I was thinking of trying again this time.”
“Grida,” Jaun said jokingly. He didn’t need to ask again what the challenge was. Ragna nodded vaguely, half-listening.
Neither of them paid much attention to the other’s words or attitude. After a brief exchange of greetings with Lawford, Grida led them into the city.
