The blonde Junior Knight with short hair slowly let her sleeve drop as she sensed a presence at the door.
Soon, a thin blade hidden inside her wrist was gripped in her hand. It wasn't because she felt threatened. It was just a habit.
With a hint of wariness, the Junior Knight asked,
"Do you have something to say?"
It was Rem, the companion of Encrid, who was leaning against the door. He cast a nonchalant glance.
There wasn't any particular emotion in his gaze. Rem spoke in a calm tone,
"Where did you learn that poison technique?"
It was an abrupt question, but the Junior Knight quickly understood.
The West, the barbarians, someone he had saved—it made sense to him.
Moreover, he knew the poison technique she used was not an ordinary one.
There is not just one kind of poison.
For instance, Jaxon used all kinds of poisons extracted from plants, animals, and minerals.
Arsenic, belladonna, poisonous mushrooms, and countless other poisons were combined to create synthetic poisons.
But the poison used by the blonde Junior Knight was different. It was a poison created through sorcery.
The refining process was similar, and the way it was utilized was also similar.
Rem silently muttered to himself,
"The method of creation is completely different."
It wasn't something one could use without having learned it from someone.
Especially since it was the method he knew.
The blonde Junior Knight did not sense any malicious intent from the man in front of him and remembered the contributions he had made on the battlefield.
It wasn't for Oara or the city, but it had helped, that much was certain.
Moreover, the sorcery poison she used wasn't even her main technique.
In other words, she didn't think it was a secret to keep from the other person.
"I saved someone by chance, and I learned it then."
The blonde Junior Knight replied calmly.
"Did you save their life?"
"Maybe? I'd say he was a rather strange person. He had barely survived, yet he acted with remarkable confidence."
The blonde recalled the memory of that time.
Rem thought of someone from his own memories.
If it were that friend, he would have been embarrassed and babbled strange things even after being saved.
"I see. Got it."
As long as it hadn't spread through improper means, that was enough. He knew there was no chance of that happening anyway.
He had just wanted to confirm.
After coming here and asking, Rem felt he understood the reason he had come.
Seeing traces of the place he once lived made it feel like it was truly time to go back.
It felt like a sign, like clearing away misfortune before a major event, something he had just accomplished in the recent battle.
He had fought with half his life on the line.
'Honestly, it was more than half.'
His ribs still ached. The bruises on his side hadn't faded, making it uncomfortable to walk.
With no other reason to stay, Rem turned around, and the blonde called out to him as he walked away.
"Thank you."
That simple, sincere phrase opened Rem's mouth.
"That person. Even when she left, she smiled brightly."
At those words, the blonde smiled as well.
One day, there might be tears, but for now, she would try to live with a smile as much as possible.
That was surely Oara's wish.
After leaving the blonde's house, Rem looked up at the sky.
The sun blazed intensely, not warm but unbearably heavy. The air seemed to lighten for a moment before becoming heavy again.
It was different from the sunlight of the West. Even though it had rained yesterday, the atmosphere was still humid and oppressive.
On such a day, doing nothing would still feel uncomfortable, yet everyone moved around without complaint.
As Rem walked through the city, he became a spectator, observing his surroundings.
Everyone seemed so diligent.
With those thoughts, he arrived in front of his lodgings, where he saw the most diligent person in the city.
Rem's mouth opened on its own.
"Hey, what are you doing, shaking like that?"
Encrid was slowly swinging his sword, his hand trembling slightly as he did so.
It was clear that he was trying to control every single muscle.
This was a training method used when breaking down and analyzing every movement.
Rem had tried it a few times, but he hadn't found it particularly enjoyable.
He didn't feel the need to do it either.
Even after watching Oara fight, Rem didn't feel like he had anything to learn from it.
What could he possibly learn from such an obvious battle?
But Encrid was different.
He had to carefully digest everything he had seen and learned.
Rem understood this, but the urge to tease him came from some deep instinct.
"Reviewing."
Of course, Encrid didn't change just because of a sarcastic comment. He answered indifferently and continued what he was doing.
In front of him, Frog stood with her arms crossed.
"You should be grateful to whoever built that body of yours."
Luagarne, who had been observing all this time, also considered Encrid's body to be one of his key foundations.
She had witnessed Encrid replicate a Knight's strike. His muscles could have torn apart, and he could have collapsed from the overuse of willpower.
But Encrid's body endured.
It was remarkable.
What about the depletion of willpower? What about the emptiness that follows after exhausting one's Will?
These questions arose alongside her thoughts.
'The curse of emptiness didn't take hold.'
The curse of emptiness refers to a state of lethargy caused by the overuse of willpower. Even though he had used more power than he should have, Encrid had not fallen under the curse of emptiness.
Normally, one would collapse after using more strength than their body could handle.
Even Roman, who was experienced in replicating such strikes, had sat down panting on the ground.
After smashing a giant spider monster with his massive club-like sword, he had been left defenseless, frozen in place.
If Asia hadn't stepped in and protected him, Roman would have been one of the attendees at the funeral this afternoon.
Yet Encrid remained fine.
As soon as the burden on his body eased, he got up and began swinging his sword again.
It was nothing short of remarkable.
Luagarne thought there could be nothing more fascinating than this.
* * *
Encrid's time was split between sword swinging and meditation.
Now, he needed meditation, so he plopped down onto the dirt ground in front of his lodgings.
To passersby, it looked like he was staring blankly at the sky with nothing to do.
Encrid's gaze did indeed follow the clouds.
Today, they seemed thicker, the billowing clouds appearing particularly dense.
On one side, low and thick gray clouds filled the sky, as if rain would fall by the afternoon.
His vacant gaze lingered on the sky, but his mind was racing.
'How did I block it?'
The fragment of Balrog lunged low, aiming below his knees. It was an unexpected move.
If it had been him, dodging would have been the first choice, but Oara had blocked it by bringing her sword down from above, cutting off the opponent's move.
Her blade had dropped downward to split Balrog's skull, and Balrog had immediately retreated, sensing it.
As fast as it had charged forward.
The fragment of Balrog was impressive, but Oara's swordplay was even more astonishing.
How had she done it?
Normally, it would have been incomprehensible, but now, he had a glimpse of understanding.
His experience in imitating the Knight's strike, based on willpower, had given him a new perspective.
When broken down into pieces, Oara's movements became clearer.
'It's the same as before.'
Connecting point to point through footwork, her sword moved instantly in response to any moment.
It was like reaching out to grab a cup but changing your mind and pulling your hand back halfway through.
A kind of acceleration in reaction speed.
Reaching out without setting a destination and simply reacting to the situation at hand.
You swing your sword as you would during practice, but after that, you adapt it based on your opponent's movement. Can you really prepare for that and still strike with full force?
Oara had done it.
Whether it was possible or not didn't matter.
He had already seen someone in front of him accomplish it.
Though Encrid didn't realize it, that was the essence of Oara's technique.
Her sword didn't move along a predetermined path. Instead, it aimed at and struck the most efficient point at the right time.
A sword style that rendered the mind games of Correct Sword Technique meaningless.
In the necessary moment, she brought out what was needed. That was the core.
It was a swordsmanship that only Knights could use, relying on their physical abilities and willpower.
She had developed it after becoming a Knight.
Until then, Oara had likely defeated her opponents using only the basics.
In a way, it was similar to Rem's technique.
Now Encrid understood why Rem had said there was nothing for him to learn.
It was simply about drawing out instincts that had become ingrained in his body.
The clouds shifted and twisted, moving like Oara's sword. Before them, Encrid swung his own sword.
The clouds changed again. Gray clouds transformed into Balrog's fragment, swinging a red rod at unpredictable angles.
The rod, which could hardly be called a sword, carried an intense heat that seared his skin.
The clouds continuously shifted.
They became Ragna's sword.
Then, they turned into the spear of the Eastern Mercenary King.
"Experience it."
The Mercenary King had said.
It was truly excellent advice.
Encrid knew what he had to do.
"Fully grasp everything you have."
It came out like a whisper.
"Did you have a weird dream?"
Apparently, he had closed his eyes at some point. When he opened them again, there stood Rem, the Western barbarian with gray hair, just three steps away.
Rem was unusually well-groomed for a barbarian and was also part of the unit that had split open a noble's head with an axe for not listening.
And he had also shared stories about Velopter, the dark sky, the place where the black comet fell, the tribe that revered power through cannibalism, the river of sand from which no one returned, and the origins of sorcery. Though he had always conveniently left out his own story.
He had intentionally kept his own tales hidden.
"You said you're going to the West? When are you leaving?"
Encrid asked.
"If I go in this condition, I might die. No, I'm pretty sure I'd die."
"Were you splitting heads over there too?"
"No, there were… certain circumstances."
After hearing Rem's words, Encrid looked up. Normally, he wouldn't be curious.
But now, he thought he saw a hint of fear in Rem, the Mad Axe Murderer.
Rem, of all people?
It piqued his interest.
Even Luagarne, who had been gnawing on some bugs nearby, slightly raised her head in curiosity.
"Grrk."
She moved her cheeks. In human terms, it was like saying, 'Oh-ho'.
"Can I come with you?"
Even Dunbachel showed interest. The beastwoman who had been engrossed in training behind them spoke up.
It was an unusual scene to see Rem, usually fearless, show any hesitation.
"Why do all of you seem half-crazed? I don't get why you'd want to come along."
Rem said, his eyes filled with dissatisfaction.
"We'll just watch. I've never been to the West."
Encrid said, making his decision final.
"You're not busy?"
There wasn't much to be busy with. As long as nothing happened in Aspen, the Border Guard would remain secure.
Since Krang hadn't given any signals, there was no immediate trouble.
Besides, if it were urgent, would Krais remain quiet?
He would have sent a hawk or someone.
But there had been no news. Everything was likely fine.
If there was anything to worry about, it was whether Squire Rug's friend had died at Ragna's hands, as he had mentioned earlier.
Or perhaps Pel, the Shepherd of the Wilderness, getting into trouble.
Other than that, there was nothing.
Now that Ragna had acquired a Knight's strength.
'Even if he gets lost, it'll be fine now, right?'
Even if he wandered into Aspen's borders, the ones who should be worried would be Aspen, not Ragna.
"I'm not busy."
With that conclusion, he spoke.
"Did I ever say I'd be coming back after going West? I don't think I did."
It sounded like a veiled threat.
If they wanted him to return, they should step back quietly.
That statement triggered Encrid's competitive spirit.
"I'll stop by and then leave."
He wanted to see what Rem was hiding.
Hiding his true thoughts, he said,
"So, you're really going to follow me?"
Rem responded with a half-angry expression but soon shook his head.
"Do what you want."
For some reason, instead of rejecting, Rem nodded.
And so, Dunbachel and Luagarne ended up heading to the West as well.
The group rested for three more days, and now their bodies were fully recovered.
It had rained twice more during that time, but ever since Oara had killed the core of the Demon Realm, the weather had cleared up.
The sky was high and clear, with no clouds in sight. The sun was as harsh as ever.
While the Knight Oara was at peace, the sunlight in the city of Oara felt rough and fierce.
Encrid packed his things and left.
Behind him followed Rem, Luagarne, and Dunbachel.
As they walked, Asia joined them.
"You're leaving?"
"I have to."
"Did you say your goodbyes?"
"More or less, yesterday."
He had told Roman the night before that he was leaving.
Actually, he had intended to leave two days ago, but Roman had insisted.
"Stay one more day."
There was no reason to refuse. There was no rush, after all.
It had been lightly drizzling, so it wasn't exactly ideal weather for leaving anyway.
"Alright."
He had answered, and then spent another day, which led to the current morning.
After loosening his body with the Isolation Technique and checking his equipment, he realized he didn't have a single Whistle Dagger left.
He had thrown them all during the battle. He had tried to recover them, but the blades were damaged beyond use.
Wouldn't it be nice to find a few good knives somewhere?
He had considered it, but there was no place to get them for now.
He had stopped by the blacksmiths, but they had all shut their doors in unison.
"Ah, nothing to sell. I don't have anything to sell to you."
The words of the stubborn craftsman lingered in his mind.
It wasn't that there was nothing to sell, it was as if he was saying he shouldn't sell to him.
As they headed out, Asia suddenly said,
"I had almost given up."
"On what?"
As they walked, Encrid matched the rhythm of her steps.
"I used to think it was enough if my sister and I could survive on one meal a day. But not anymore."
What she had given up was the will to keep moving forward.
Now, Asia said she had regained that will and determination.
When he asked why,
"Because I saw the back of Sir Oara."
She said.
As they left the city of the Knight Oara, Encrid reflected once again.
Her death had impacted everyone who had been on the battlefield.
Just as they reached the city gate, Roman blocked their path, his greatsword resting on his shoulder.
"I still don't understand."
He spoke, his resolve evident. Right now, there was no way to pass through the gate behind him.
Behind him stood a unit, including Milio and the blonde Junior Knight.
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