“How to read and respond to moves.”

While being hit by Rem.

While listening to Jaxon talk about the sixth sense.

While squeezing his body with Audin through The Isolation Technique.

He also faithfully learned swordsmanship from Ragna.

Regardless of how much his skills improved, he remained consistent.

“Doesn’t it feel frustrating?”

Ragna would often ask Encrid this.

Frustrating? There was no reason for that.

Ragna’s teachings were a path and a milestone after learning the basics.

How long had the days been when he wandered without knowing the way?

Now, the moment he took one step forward, he immediately saw another path, and it was just enjoyable.

How should one react when the opponent strikes with a sword?

What if the opponent is a beast?

What if someone suddenly stabs a spear from behind?

In any situation, how should one extend their sword?

Once you have the basics, the next thing to master is how to apply them.

You can’t respond to every situation. It was similar to that. The point is to grasp the knack.

Of course, it wasn’t easy.

“I thought this would end a bit quicker.”

Ragna said that, but it wasn’t possible. Encrid knew that his talent was lacking.

If he had a decent level of talent, would he have struggled this much?

Probably not.

But he doesn’t resent it. Instead of wasting time on resentment, he’d swing his sword one more time.

“The application of swordsmanship only makes sense if you read and respond to moves.”

Whether the opponent is a beast, a monster, or an enemy soldier, you observe their movements, discern between tricks and truths, and then cut or stab with your sword.

Ragna taught tirelessly.

Encrid did not tire either, but the progress was endlessly slow.

He knew he was slow and lacking. He had to work several times harder than others.

Therefore,

Every surrounding thing, every situation, environment, and any given short moment.

He used everything as a tool for growth.

That’s what Encrid did.

Digging through the cave and moving forward.

Four wolf beasts jumped out.

Woof woof!

The creatures barked like dogs and charged without giving him a moment to breathe.

The dynamic wolf beasts, kicking up dirt from the ground as they charged, made one’s knees buckle just by looking at them.

Their eyes filled with ferocity, tongues lolling, drool dripping from their jaws, and yellow teeth gleaming red in the torchlight.

‘The Heart of the Beast.’

Boldness, due to which he could thrust the blade right in front of him without flinching.

It was the same now.

Encrid remained unfazed. In the time it took to catch his breath a few times, the wolf beasts had closed the distance.

Encrid supplemented his sword skills with instinctive intuition.

It was a reflexive response born from boldness.

He believed this would also become a stepping stone for growth and aimed to incorporate it into his training.

“There is no better training than real combat.”

The only drawback was that it required risking his life each time.

He couldn’t afford to spend today in vain.

If he wanted to live a life where every day was just about clinging to life, he would have tilled the fields and sought the blessings of the gods instead of dreaming about his goals.

Even though he valued today dearly, he still had to risk his life to move forward.

This was the only path for Encrid to continue pursuing his dreams.

He wasn’t rushing to die but risking his life to live.

As his instincts dictated.

Following his instincts.

Clang!

The sound of the wolf beast’s teeth clashing was right in front of him.

Encrid pulled his left foot back to avoid the wolf beast’s bite, and with a movement of his elbow, he struck downwards with his sword.

Smash! Clang!

He didn’t strike with the blade but with the flat of the sword. The wolf beast, struck heavily on the head, fell to the ground.

He swung his sword and naturally stepped left.

Although he had thrown the torch to one side, it hadn’t gone out, so it served as a light source.

As he stepped to the left, Encrid shielded his body with the torch and avoided the wolf’s forepaw.

With a thud, a heavy blow passed through the spot where Encrid’s abdomen had been.

If he had been caught, his gambeson would surely have been torn to shreds.

A beast was a monster with the characteristics of a beast.

Two of them, more cunningly, turned to attack from behind.

Perhaps thinking they had an opportunity, the two wolves, with their mouths looking like short knives, charged at Encrid, targeting his thighs.

Squeak-!

A strange noise echoed through the dark cave illuminated by only one torch.

It was a fleeting moment.

Encrid turned his body and flicked his hand, sending a whistling knife into the forehead of one of the charging wolf beasts with a sharp thud.

It was as fast as a ray of light.

Meanwhile, the other wolf, which had charged in, pulled back its thigh to dodge and simultaneously raised its knee to attack.

Thud.

It seemed it wasn’t a heavy impact, as the wolf beast hit on the knee didn’t retreat.

Instead, showing off its leg muscles, it tried to press down on Encrid’s instep with its forepaw.

Encrid stepped back half a step, pulling his raised knee behind him to avoid the forepaw targeting his instep, and positioned himself between the two wolf beasts blocking his front and rear.

It was almost as if he was surrounded.

Even in a situation that could be called a crisis, Encrid’s eyes weren’t focused on the two wolf beasts.

Focus and more focus.

It no longer felt like everything around him was moving slowly.

It wasn’t that only dots and lines remained, or that he couldn’t see anything else.

He simply could clearly see the movements of the wolf beasts.

He could predict their next moves in his mind.

Seeing the beasts’ next moves, Encrid’s actions became simple.

There was no need to complicate things by tricking and maneuvering to corner the opponent.

He let his sword hang and then swung it wide.

Although it was too narrow to swing side to side, the height of the cave was sufficient for drawing a large semicircle vertically.

What kind of sword was the medium sword technique?

He recalled what he had learned as a basic.

It was a sword technique that excelled in breaking things with one strike.

Woof!

The two wolf beasts charged simultaneously.

Encrid executed the movement he had visualized in his mind.

Whoosh! Thud! Crack! Crunch!

The longsword he swung with all his might did its job.

The wolf beast on the side of the sword was split from chest to jaw to head.

The one hit by the descending arc of the semicircle had its head burst open.

If the timing had been slightly off, he would have been bitten by at least one of the two beasts.

The current strike was a display of strength.

“Hoo.”

Encrid exhaled the breath he had been holding, calming his heart.

‘One.’

One beast remained.

While the remaining wolf beast hesitated, Encrid jumped forward. Oddly, he ran not directly at the wolf beast but to its left.

The beast didn’t even seem to notice and jumped in the same direction.

‘Pivot on the left foot.’

In an extreme state of concentration, following intuition, body, and the condensed experience from training.

He planted his left foot on the ground and extended his sword. It was a thrust. The tip of the sword pierced into the wolf’s mouth and came out the back of its head.

Thud!

With the sound, the weight of the wolf was felt in his arms.

Naturally, he let go of his strength and dropped the wolf to the ground with a thud.

Encrid stepped on the head of the wolf, which had a hole from its mouth to its head, and pulled out the sword.

As the sword was pulled out with a squelch, the red blood of the beast flowed onto the ground. The body of the wolf beast trembled.

Gasp.

The last breath of the remaining beast dispersed meaninglessly.

Leaving the dead beasts behind with his arms hanging down, Encrid reflected on what he had just done.

‘I can see.’

The movements of the wolf beasts were simple. Movements driven by instinct.

So they fell under the realm of the sixth sense. The focus of a single point and the instinct of the sixth sense.

It was a series of sword strikes relying on the combined senses.

‘I can do it.’

At this moment, it felt like he could demonstrate the applied sword techniques Ragna had spoken of.

Read the opponent’s intentions and movements. After that, it was just about bringing down the sword, trained through basics.

Deceiving the opponent followed a similar logic.

“It’s something you already know how to do. It’s just about formalizing it and attaching it to your body.”

Ragna’s words suddenly came to mind.

Yes, that’s right. It’s something he originally did.

But knowing and doing it versus not knowing and doing it were as different as a cat and a tiger.

Encrid clenched and unclenched his hand, reflecting and re-reflecting.

Even as he moved forward with the torch, he continuously envisioned his sword in his mind.

Being able to stick it to the body with just one try was the privilege of the talented.

So he pondered and repeated.

Encrid made everything part of his training.

After that, no more monsters or beasts appeared.

Instead, he found a passage at the end of the tunnel that connected to the sewers.

Only then did he see something other than swordsmanship.

‘Crazy bastard.’

Digging such a tunnel up to here.

What kind of madness is this?

Spell traps were expensive. They weren’t cheap rat traps.

What’s the intention behind blocking all six paths with such traps?

Even a wealthy merchant with a lot of Krona wouldn’t normally do such a thing.

Not to mention there were ghouls, called man-eaters, and beasts.

Why go to such lengths to block the way? What on earth is waiting behind this?

He saw part of the answer to that question.

“Crazy bastard.”

Encrid’s mouth opened involuntarily.

The place he arrived at, following the sewer that reeked of a foul smell.

In the torchlight, he saw things hanging like laundry everywhere.

They were made by driving nails into the wall and hanging strings from them.

They weren’t clothes. They were parts that should have been wearing those clothes.

It was a scene of horror beyond words, with human entrails, flesh, and bones.

Even Encrid, who had seen plenty of gruesome sights in his life, felt nauseated by such a horrible scene.

‘Crazy bastard.’

He was someone who absolutely needed to be killed.

He was someone who deserved to die.

Isn’t killing such a person also the duty of a knight?

Encrid knew that dreaming alone did not make one a knight.

But he couldn’t just ignore this after seeing it.

Amidst the scene, he noticed some relatively intact bodies, still somewhat resembling human forms.

One of them seemed to be alive.

It blinked its eyes a few times before opening its mouth.

“Grk.”

It couldn’t speak.

Of course, it couldn’t. How could a person with only a head left speak?

The very fact that it was opening its eyes and trying to speak in that state was grotesque.

“Grk, grk.”

What is it trying to say?

It was hard to even guess.

If it were Encrid himself, he would probably beg to be killed.

He couldn’t tell how it was even moving.

Furthermore, he couldn’t fathom how the string was threaded through its head, nor did he want to know.

Despite having been through many ordeals, this scene of horror was truly repulsive.

“What are you?”

A voice came then. Encrid’s gaze turned towards the source of the voice.

It was at the end of the path decorated with human corpses. In the corner of the sewer, he saw the face of a corpse enthusiast.

It was a young man with a pale, white face.

He wore a drab green robe and had long hair.

Encrid asked.

“This is your work, isn’t it?”

The man seemed to ponder for a moment before speaking to himself.

“…How did you get here? Does God love me? Seeing how they send a test subject my way even if I do nothing… Let’s see. You seem to be a regular soldier, with a well-trained body. This is good. Good.”

The young man’s voice was light and cheerful.

He sounded like a blacksmith who had received high-quality iron.

Or a merchant who had struck a profitable deal.

In a way, he also seemed like an innocent young man confessing his feelings.

It was strange and eerie.

“What should I make out of you?”

Encrid raised the torch high. He saw beyond the flickering shadows behind the man.

There was a strange corpse patched together in various ways, leaning against the wall.

Its eyes were closed and it showed no signs of breathing. Encrid judged it to be a corpse.

“Isn’t it lovely? This will be my greatest masterpiece. Its name is Varmilo.”

Encrid reached a conclusion. There was no need for further conversation.

A perfectly insane bastard.

Encrid threw the torch.

With a crackle and a roar, the torch spun through the air, leaving a round, long trajectory as it flew towards the madman’s head.

Thud.

But the madman merely raised his hand and deflected the torch.

A spell—so he was a wizard.

But did that mean he should stop?

No. Those who need to die should die. Encrid threw the torch, and even though he saw it deflected with a mere gesture, he did not stop.

Encrid lowered his body as he kicked off the ground.

He slid forward on the sticky ground of the sewer. Kicking through the filth, he reached the wizard with a swift move accompanied by a hissing sound.

Using the momentum of his run, he swung his sword. The diagonal slash from below cut through the darkness left by the vanished torch.

* * *

Esther usually stuck close at night, but on days when Encrid was in the city, she would sometimes wander near him.

Of course, there were many days when she didn’t.

‘Just sticking close at night is enough.’

And there was no need to be with him all the time.

On a typical day, she would just hang around in the camp, killing time.

Goodbye.

She saw Encrid off as he left, but while she was off guard, he flicked her on the nose.

This bastard?

“I’m leaving.”

Then he walked out.

After that, Esther secretly followed Encrid.

‘What’s he up to, flicking someone’s nose like that?’

It started out of pure curiosity.

Esther’s pursuit was triggered by Encrid’s whimsical flick.

What hadn’t happened yesterday happened today.

Tap, tap.

The black panther swiftly moved through the alleys, stepping on rooftops where she wouldn’t be seen by others.

She moved with light and graceful steps.

It was no challenge to move unseen.

Thus, Esther followed Encrid into the underground.

‘What is he up to again?’

It was pure curiosity.

Then, in the place where Encrid had entered, she caught the foul scent of a spell.

‘This could be bad.’

The human she had chosen seemed about to die. This was troublesome. He was still someone she needed.

She had to go inside.

Avoiding spell traps was nothing for Esther.

Once, she had sung to the stars and was a witch who embraced them.

Such crude traps were no match for her.

So she saw the man fighting the ghoul.

‘Has he improved?’

She wasn’t knowledgeable about swordsmanship. But she had watched Encrid every single day.

‘He has improved.’

She could see his growth.

Then he killed the wolf beasts. Even to Esther, this seemed strange.

‘What is this?’

Encrid moved as if possessed.

With her eyes piercing the darkness, she saw his movements as a series of incomprehensible actions.

He swung, slashed, and stabbed with his sword. He kicked the wolves with his feet and knees.

She thought it was chaos, yet he sustained no serious injuries.

He only got a few scratches, which merely marred his armor.

Could such results come from a messy fight?

‘Are the beasts half-wits?’

It didn’t seem like it.

Of course, if she had regained her original power, such beasts and monsters wouldn’t dare to even lift their heads towards her.

‘But he keeps going?’

He should have turned back by now.

Encrid kept moving forward, and eventually, Esther also saw the scene of carnage.

She wasn’t shocked.

Among those who crafted spells, there were all sorts of crazy people.

And she eventually realized that what lay beyond was a wizard.

‘What should I do?’

Should she help when dealing with a wizard?

With the tiny bit of strength she had gathered?

Doing so would mean needing more time to regain her body.

She had imbued some energy into Encrid’s armor, but still.

‘This is a headache.’

In the end, she withheld judgment and hid herself, following Encrid.

She watched as he confronted the wizard.

Encrid exchanged a few words and then immediately attacked.

Afterward, Esther was surprised and then surprised again. It was warranted.

The man called Encrid filled the eyes of the hidden Lake Panther, who wore darkness like a cloak.

And the man was performing unbelievable feats.

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