The setting sun illuminated half of his face, making the other half appear even darker.
The sunset light stretched between them.
The light split them apart, as if dividing them into separate sides.
Encrid erased his smile. Now he was expressionless.
Rem's face looked even more indifferent.
Both had their arms hanging down, not having drawn their weapons.
Dunbachel and Luagarne felt an overwhelming pressure from the stance of the two in front of them.
'The calm before the storm.'
Dunbachel thought.
'The waves rising from the swamp.'
Luagarne also thought.
Their perspectives were similar, yet different.
It was because they were looking in different directions.
Dunbachel saw what was about to come crashing forward.
Fighting by instinct and intuition, she judged that a moment's decision could determine the outcome.
On the other hand, Luagarne, who enjoyed mind games, believed that the advantage lay in controlling the momentum beneath the surface before any action occurred.
Both were correct.
A quiet yet turbulent fight.
It could be said that this was the most serious and slowest duel between the two.
In most duels, Encrid would immediately charge, and conversely, Rem would usually start by swinging his axe.
The clouds spread wide and evenly across the sky.
As the sun descended beyond the western horizon, two faint moons began to emerge.
The orange sky subtly shifted into a violet hue.
Looking at the horizon, it felt as though the sky and the earth were touching.
A strong wind blew between them, seemingly from that horizon.
Whoooosh.
It was quite an intense gust.
In the West, days like this were called 'low sky', and this type of wind was either referred to as 'the urging wind' or 'the obstructing wind'.
It was a story Rem had told along the way.
When it was a headwind, it felt like a wall blocking your steps, but when it blew from behind, it felt as though it supported and pushed you forward.
It was a peculiar weather phenomenon.
Facing the wind, Encrid casually raised his hand to grip his sword.
Meanwhile, Rem drew his axes.
Screeech.
Encrid drew Aker and held it with both hands, glaring at Rem again. Rem split the two axes into each hand and let his arms hang down again.
Encrid slightly lowered the tip of Aker, which he had raised to be level with the ground, tilting the blade at an angle instead of keeping it horizontal.
"Oh."
Luagarne rolled her large eyes and let out a gasp of admiration.
Rem slightly pulled his left foot back, shifting his weight to his right leg.
The tip of Aker was aimed at Rem's left thigh, and Rem adjusted his stance, ready to evade at any moment.
A similar mind game ensued.
In Luagarne's words, it was like waves crashing within a pit made of a swampy quagmire.
Whenever Encrid pushed the waves, Rem either evaded or blocked them.
"Do you think it'll end like this?"
At Rem's provocation, Encrid inwardly agreed.
This was, after all, just a test. A trial to see how effective the things he had learned and practiced were.
Despite the pressure, there was no way such tactics would work against this brute of a barbarian.
Then, what about breaking his momentum through strategy?
It was a technique he had learned from Luagarne.
"You know how to prepare to win from the start, right? Just make it a bit more obvious."
Adjusting the sword belt, changing his stance, positioning his feet—all of it was preparation to win.
If choosing the direction of the sword's tip or holding a dagger beforehand would give an advantage, wasn't that the right thing to do?
Of course, it was.
But it simply didn't work on Rem.
Suddenly, the sword and axes moved.
Bang!
As Aker's blade came down in a curved arc, the two axes crossed to block it.
Rem tried to hook Aker's blade with the axe and disarm him, but Aker retreated as soon as it hit the axes. Encrid had anticipated Rem's intention to trap his blade and used a technique of cutting off.
The axe blade chipped slightly and splintered into the air, but neither of them cared.
"Not bad."
Rem grinned.
"So are you."
Encrid also smiled.
Soon, the sword and axes ruthlessly targeted each other's necks, stomachs, chests, thighs, forearms, and fingers, slicing, stabbing, striking, and bashing.
Bang! Clang, clang, clang!
In the fading evening moonlight, the steel clashed, proving its worth.
Sparks flew as they showcased their strength, darting about in an attempt to pierce the other's flesh.
After several exchanges of offense and defense, it happened.
Clang!
With a loud crash, Encrid's body surged into Rem's space.
Seeing this, Rem raised his knee, which Encrid blocked with his left forearm.
Thump. Thud, crack!
Luagarne and Dunbachel saw Aker embedded in the ground.
The 'thump' was the sound of Aker piercing the ground.
The 'thud' was Rem's left-hand axe falling to the ground.
This all happened the moment the axe and Aker clashed.
Encrid stepped back, rubbing his left forearm with his right hand.
The 'crack' was the sound of Rem's knee striking Encrid's forearm.
"…You've really improved."
Rem remarked.
"Even I think so."
Encrid replied.
Why wouldn't he?
Experiencing the blow of a Knight had brought an unexpected change in Encrid.
It had become a stepping stone, accelerating his growth.
Encrid had knocked one of the axes away with Aker and surged into Rem's space, slapping his right palm into Rem's chin.
Rem had instinctively read Encrid's move, attempting to stop the charge by turning his body.
But in that moment, Encrid's hand demonstrated something resembling the blow of a Knight.
In other words, it shot out with unexpected speed.
Rem couldn't avoid it.
The 'crack' was the sound of Rem's chin being struck.
He hadn't anticipated such a blow from sparring with Encrid, but it happened.
Rem's head spun. He could endure, but a loss was a loss.
He slumped down on the spot.
"Ugh, I feel like throwing up."
A solid hit to the chin always brought nausea.
"You turned your head at the last second, though."
Encrid said as he picked up Aker from the ground.
It wasn't a clean hit, but it was effective. If the fight had continued?
'I could've won.'
Thus, the outcome had been decided.
"Rrrrumble."
Luagarne's cheeks puffed up in surprise, an unusual reaction.
Even Dunbachel was more astonished.
Her golden eyes widened more than the moons in the sky.
After staring at Rem for a long time, she asked.
"Did you get weaker?"
Crack.
Rem cracked his neck a few times and stood up.
"Come on, let's test if I got weaker?"
Of course, Rem hadn't gotten weaker. He had recovered without even taking a breath after being hit earlier.
But if it had been a real fight, it would have been a critical opening.
"Ugh!"
Dunbachel took a few blows that day, while Encrid quietly caught his breath.
Something inside him swelled and threatened to burst, only to fizzle out and cool down.
He was pleased, but not euphoric.
It was fun, but not to the point of bursting into laughter.
It was simply a confirmation.
'I've come this far.'
It was merely proof.
He had witnessed Oara's death, watched her fight, and now, having survived another day.
Encrid had become able to imitate the Knight's gesture.
"Now, there won't be anyone at the Junior Knight level who can face you."
That was what Rem said after beating up Dunbachel.
"Another round? ....Sure. Let's do it."
Though Luagarne was greatly surprised, she accepted the result.
In hindsight, it was an inevitable outcome. Hadn't they already seen him fight the monstrous ghouls?
So why was she still surprised?
'Isn't there every reason to be?'
When looking at the man called Encrid, it always seemed like he had reached his limit. It was hard to understand how he had improved so much.
It was as if he had fought thousands of battles, risking his life, and then refined those experiences over hundreds of days.
'Even in his daily life, he poured all his time into swinging his sword and contemplating.'
She had helped and witnessed it herself.
Encrid's accumulated experience was already greater than anyone else on the continent.
'A body honed by all that experience, a technique refined through meticulous training, and the mindset to exploit his opponent's weaknesses.'
That was what had enabled him to surpass Rem.
In their second duel, neither Encrid nor Rem ended up getting hit or knocked down.
But Encrid was certain.
'I can take him down.'
If he wanted to, he could defeat Rem.
Equal footing? They weren't equals anymore.
He held the upper hand.
"Seems like you're thinking you can take me down whenever you want now, but let's be real. You know it would be different if we were fighting for our lives, right?"
"You know that too, don't you? I haven't been risking my life in these duels either."
"…You really have a way of getting under people's skin when you talk."
By then, they were on their third duel.
Rem's gaze had changed. Encrid's aura had shifted too.
"One of you is going to die if this keeps up."
Dunbachel, sensing the growing tension with her sharp instincts, spoke up.
It was after a full day of walking that they arrived at their second campsite.
With their backs to a campfire made from gathered brush, the sword and axes moved again.
This duel didn't last long.
But each move was deadly.
Clang!
The clashes of steel were fewer. Since Rem's weapons weren't like Aker, the more they clashed, the more the axe blades chipped away.
Before long, the axe blades had turned into jagged saws. It wouldn't be wrong to call them axe-saws now.
The two fought as if it were a real battle.
Encrid was once again amazed.
Rem had shown yet another different side.
As if the duel wasn't everything.
Between them, the air filled with killing intent.
And before long, both stopped.
Their shoulders heaved, and rough breaths escaped their lips.
Both had immense stamina, but even they were like this. It was a battle that drained their mental strength.
Their sword and axes were aimed at each other's hearts.
"Mess with me, huh, huh, and you'll end up with a hole right there."
"Hah, you're already dead."
That was Encrid's reply to Rem's words.
"You son of a—"
"You prick."
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Well, that was fun. We've still got over ten days ahead of us, and it looks like we'll be sparring a lot. I might just let you win a few."
Rem stepped back.
"You're not letting me win, you're losing."
Encrid pointed that out.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just say I lost."
Rem spoke, still finding it all so peculiar.
'What a strange feeling.'
He had lived a life where the experience of losing was rare.
He hadn't been called a genius for nothing.
There was a time when he was hailed as the strongest in the West, the greatest talent of the Western tribes.
Few had ever lasted a month teaching him.
'Learning sorcery was a bit tricky, though.'
But he had learned it, mastered it, and realized it.
Several sorcerers had vied to make him their successor, and eventually, he had left that land.
Even after leaving, losing was a rare concept in his life.
Most recently, there had been that crazy lost guy, and the wildcat that suddenly went berserk, but before that, the notion of losing had been faint.
So the concept of defeat wasn't familiar to him. It could have felt unpleasant. But he didn't feel bad.
It was different from when he had faced Ragna.
Why didn't he feel bad?
There were many reasons, but perhaps it was because that crazy leader didn't seem to have any intention of stopping.
It wasn't like Encrid was using him as a stepping stone or seeing him as an ultimate goal to reach.
It was just something that happened.
It was just something that occurred while pursuing his dream.
So now, even at this moment, he continued swinging his sword.
"This campsite is uncomfortable in many ways."
Dunbachel commented as she stoked the fire.
"My throat is dry."
Luagarne chimed in.
As they ventured further west, the weather became drier, so the Frog was bound to struggle.
"Let's see."
Rem said, and he began digging into the ground.
Everyone, including Encrid, turned their attention to him.
"Just wait a bit. Time to drink something sweet."
This was the West, the land where he was born and raised.
As they ventured deeper, more headaches awaited.
But if they didn't enjoy the present, it would be a waste.
Always, always enjoy life.
Wasn't that his motto?
Rem quickly dug into the ground and plunged the axe deep into the earth, grabbing something with the back of the axe head and pulling it up.
Crack.
The ground crumbled more easily than expected, and something round and large emerged.
It was too big to hold in one hand, but a bit small for two hands.
"Do fruits grow underground? A root fruit of some kind?"
Encrid asked with curiosity.
"It's a specialty of the West, the ground squirrel fruit."
The hard outer shell was made of packed dirt. When Rem cracked it open, a shriveled fruit appeared inside.
Brushing off the dirt and slashing it with the axe blade, he split it open, revealing liquid inside.
"Try it. Once you taste it, you'll never forget it. Merchants used to call it the Nectar of Paradise."
Encrid took the fruit first and drank a sip.
Gulp.
As the sweet taste started in his mouth, it spread throughout his entire body.
It was incredibly sweet, but not unpleasantly so. It was the kind of sweetness that made you want to keep drinking.
"If you drink too much, your mouth will dry out more, so one a day per person is ideal."
"You're the official guide to the West now."
Encrid praised him, amazed. Rem cursed in response.
Just hearing the word 'guide' made him reflexively swear.
Of course he was the guide. Who else had been leading the way all this time?
Sometimes, the Captain had a knack for getting under people's skin with just a word.
This was different from admitting defeat.
It was infuriating, as if he were being compared to that lost guy again.
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