"I'll be back after I take care of the recruits for a moment."
Lawford said, turning around.
He had his own tasks to handle.
Today was the day when a recruit was picked to spar, for anyone who wanted to challenge him.
It was the reward given after a hard training session.
"You promised, didn't you? Whoever beats me can join the General's unit immediately."
Lawford stood in front of the platform and said.
The water gathered on the edge of the platform's roof fell, with a drop of rain wetting his hair.
Behind him, Rem grumbled.
"Did those bastards all just figure it out and run away?"
Whether it was Ragna or Jaxon, if Rem had foreseen his rise to Knight-level after finding his sorcery, he'd be holding a crystal ball instead of a sword.
So, it was clear they hadn't simply run away.
Encrid turned his gaze towards Lawford, having heard what he said.
Although it wasn't something he allowed, seeing the way things were going, it had Krais' scent all over it.
While Audin was the best at pushing recruits, motivating them was another matter entirely.
That required knowing how to handle people.
No matter how you looked at it, Audin wasn't very good at that.
Encrid knew, having learned the Isolation Technique under him.
"Drink."
"I have no strength."
"No, you do."
"My arm won't move."
"No, it's moving."
That was Audin's method. Would Lawford be any different?
He had spent almost his entire life with the Knights.
He had faced many rough swordsmen and dealt with quite a few criminals.
But handling and leading people was a different story altogether.
Training was just that. It built stamina and strength, but it was also a process of figuring out what kind of person someone was.
Sometimes you had to push them and sometimes you had to give appropriate rewards.
Encrid accepted that Krais might have gotten involved.
That big-eyed guy may not have been worn out from his mercenary life, but when it came to dealing with regular people, Krais was probably the best.
* * *
The people gathered here were drawn by the name Encrid, though some of them didn't believe the rumors about his skills.
After all, rumors abound, but who knows what the actual skill level is?
Marco was a spearman recognized by a famous spearmaster in the western trade cities.
He was the type who thought rumors were at best only half true.
Otherwise, the famous guys from the west, the ones known as the Harpy Slayer and Colony Destroyer, wouldn't have had such mediocre skills.
That's why he had come here, burning with the desire to prove his own skills.
However, the so-called hero who had ended the civil war was said to be absent.
If you didn't participate in training, you wouldn't get a chance to duel? So he had participated in the training, followed their instructions, but he was reaching his limit.
He was getting frustrated.
When he saw Lawford, it was clear he was no pushover, but his target was the Demon Slayer.
'Should I show my techniques now?'
That would be putting himself at a disadvantage.
Most martial artists on the continent believed that showing your skills too early would make things harder.
Marco was no exception, and he also wanted to steal all the fame in a single victory.
So he had waited, and today was the day.
If Audin hadn't gone on a fast, if Ragna hadn't gotten lost, or if Pel had been here to charm the crowd, Marco might not have thought this way.
He wasn't even looking at Lawford. His gaze was fixed on Encrid.
His curly hair, soaked by the rain, had turned into a seaweed-like mess, obscuring his vision, so he wiped his face with his hand.
"Grrrr."
Behind him, a gray-haired beast was grinding its fangs, but he didn't spare it a glance.
Some of the recruits looked at Lawford, but Marco's gaze remained unwavering.
'Encrid.'
General, Hero, civil war ender, Demon Slayer, Savior of the Kingdom, Guardian of the Border Guard, friend of the King, destroyer of the Gray Demon Realm, and so on.
The man had an endless list of titles.
Now that he saw him in person, he wasn't just some ordinary talent.
'Would I absolutely lose if I fought him?'
Probably not.
Marco was confident. He had learned spear techniques from books.
Even as a child, no one could match him, and as he grew older, he quickly caught up to any rival he met.
He had traveled seeking teachers to teach him swordsmanship or spear techniques, but none of them had satisfied him.
He didn't always win, but he never left a fight without victory in the end.
Marco exhaled slowly.
Despite the rain and the coming of autumn, the temperature was still high.
There was an uncomfortable stickiness, but what did it matter? The important thing was to show his skills. This was the moment.
Encrid had felt the gaze on him for a while now. Since there was no reason to avoid it, he stared back just as intently.
"Can I choose my opponent directly?"
Marco opened his mouth.
Among the soldiers who sought the Border Guard, many were drawn by the high pay, but many came to test their own skills.
Encrid understood people like that well.
Their conversation ended with just a glance. He would attack.
Encrid had no reason or intention to avoid it.
Moreover, there were a few things he had realized on his journey here, and he needed a good opponent to test them.
They weren't quite polished enough to use against Rem.
"Will it be alright?"
Lawford asked, and Encrid nodded, putting down his backpack.
He considered drawing Aker but decided to only take his Gladius and descended the steps.
The sword rattled loosely in its scabbard, possibly from rough use.
He figured he should visit a blacksmith in the city to get it fixed when he had the time.
Marco, the recruit, drew his weapon.
It was a short spear, a little taller than himself.
The way he gripped it wide and aimed it was impressive.
At least, by soldier standards.
Those who weren't part of the Knightly order often called themselves Junior Knights or Squires.
Marco, in that sense, could be considered Squire level.
However, as Encrid had experienced firsthand, the term 'Squire level' was, well, nonsense.
Swords kill regardless, but there's a clear difference in skill.
No matter how you looked at it, someone like Roman from the city of Oara or Asia, who had probably returned to the Royal Palace by now, wouldn't lose to someone like this.
"I doubt I'll be able to hold back."
Marco said.
Such kindness and honesty.
He was telling Encrid in advance that he was coming with full force.
Not that it wasn't obvious from his posture and aura.
He had the eyes to see just a bit ahead. If he became a Knight, it would be called future sight—awareness and instincts.
Encrid tossed his Gladius into the air and caught it, gripping it in reverse.
"…Is that all the weapon you're using?"
Marco asked.
Encrid only waved a finger on the hand holding the sword.
The man with the seaweed-like hair clenched his teeth and lunged through the rain. The spear's blade blurred into a dot.
Could Lawford handle this level of attack?
Who knows.
The old Lawford might have, but the current one was an unknown.
Encrid, deep in thought, swung his reversed Gladius.
Thud.
He struck the spearhead and simultaneously closed the distance, jabbing his hand into Marco's abdomen.
It was a thrust inspired by Rem's kick, which landed like a throwing spear.
There was no added rotation, just pure force driven by his muscles, making the attack quick and without much wind-up.
Smack.
"Gack!"
Marco's feet momentarily lifted off the ground. Despite this, he didn't let go of his spear.
He hung in the air diagonally for a moment before crashing to the ground with his eyes vacant.
He wasn't knocked out, but he looked a bit dazed.
Even so, he hadn't dropped his spear. Encrid noted this.
If this were a test, he would have passed.
In the end, it was nothing more than a series of simple actions—block, dodge, strike.
The rain poured harder.
"Grrr."
Marco crawled on the ground. Encrid had held back, but it wasn't exactly a light strike.
Had he hit harder, blood and pieces of organ might have spilled from Marco's mouth due to internal bleeding.
"What was that?"
"I couldn't even see it."
A few recruits mumbled to themselves.
The gap in skill was evident.
"Anyone else want to try?"
Lawford asked.
All the recruits looked up. Their eyes spoke clearly.
Who would challenge that after seeing this?
Lawford smiled brightly in the rain and said,
"How about a match with me?"
With Ragna away, his hands were itching for a fight lately.
Moreover, he had something he wanted to show Encrid since his return.
Lawford raised his sword high and assumed an upper stance.
Encrid gripped his Gladius again and replied,
"If this is how you welcome me back, it's more than welcome."
He had been curious about the changes in Lawford.
Lawford focused.
He sliced time into moments, stretching each one. The intense focus made him forget his surroundings.
The falling rain, the situation, even time itself faded away.
The only things that existed in his consciousness were his sword and his opponent.
He had honed this skill even after learning it from Luagarne and had rolled tirelessly with Ragna. This was how Lawford gained something new.
He had named it the Eagle's Eye.
By focusing all his senses on his opponent, it felt as if he were viewing the fight from the sky.
Encrid didn't move an inch.
Lawford, watching with his Eagle's Eye, waited for his opponent's move.
Then, Encrid moved.
Suddenly, Lawford's vision was filled with a sword. Encrid had thrown his Gladius without any preparation.
No, there had been a preparatory move, but it was so fast that Lawford's reaction was a bit delayed. He instinctively brought his sword down.
Clang!
The Gladius bounced away.
Boom!
The world trembled. That's how Lawford felt.
At the same time, lightning seemed to flash before his eyes.
'Huh?'
Why is the world spinning?
Lawford collapsed with a thud.
"You need to pick your fights wisely."
Rem, suppressing his excitement, spoke from the platform.
"I was just starting to have fun, but it looks like we've got a long way to go."
He continued in a bored tone.
"Ah."
Lawford, sitting in the muddy water, let out a brief sigh of amazement.
He had thought he was catching up.
He thought after seeing Encrid knock out the recruit that maybe his sword could face him now.
Not even close.
"It's so hard to catch up with a genius."
Lawford muttered.
Oh, so that's it.
All the recruits watching silently agreed with him.
Lawford shook his head from side to side, his head still ringing.
Encrid had closed the distance after throwing the Gladius, and then struck Lawford's jaw with an upper kick. Every action had been executed with speed beyond reason.
Lawford still felt the lingering shock of the blow.
All the recruits kept their mouths shut.
As for Encrid, he had nothing to say about being called a genius.
It neither pleased nor displeased him.
It was just how others saw him. That was all.
Lawford probably understood too, that two simple words like 'genius' or 'talent' couldn't sum up everything a person had built.
"I'm going in first."
Having knocked out a Squire as soon as he returned, Encrid grabbed his backpack and walked past the training grounds.
From behind, he heard Lawford shouting loudly.
"Come on, if we work hard, we can become like him one day!"
Lawford had become someone filled with great ambition.
"Dream big, huh."
"Not everyone can become like that, which is why life is unfair."
Rem and Luagarne took turns speaking.
"Are you the kind to laugh at someone else's dream?"
Encrid asked, looking at Rem.
"Didn't you know? I laughed when the Captain first said he wanted to become a Knight."
He had indeed laughed.
"If there's someone to inspire dreams, there should be someone to bring them back to reality."
Luagarne spoke like a sage hiding on some mountain.
But hiding on a small hill, as opposed to a mountain, usually meant you weren't a sage but a conman.
Anyway, Luagarne wasn't wrong.
If a dream can be shattered by hearing something like that, then no one could force it to stand back up again.
Encrid walked and saw the unchanged barracks.
First, he would drop his belongings, wash up, and then enjoy something that wasn't field rations for the first time in a while.
He opened the door to his quarters.
Blue eyes, long black hair, and skin peeking through black robes.
A wizard sat on an antique chair, looking straight at him.
"You're back?"
She spoke as if she had seen him just yesterday.
Beside her was a Fairy, sitting on a desk even more absurd than the antique chair.
The Fairy set down a carving tool and the object she had been working on, raising her head.
"You've returned, fiance."
The Fairy's jokes were still the same.
Esther didn't say anything beyond that, and Sinar didn't turn her head.
Her eyes were sharp and focused.
The rain poured outside.
With a click, the door shut behind him.
The fire in the center blazed, and with its light, Sinar asked,
"What did you bring me?"
He wondered what kind of gift she was asking for when he hadn't even been on a trip.
Encrid thought this as he dropped his backpack, ready to say there was nothing, but stopped himself.
Come to think of it, there was something to give to each of them.
For instance, for Jaxon, there was the Invisible Blade dagger.
For Esther, there was some magical item he had happened to pick up.
And for Audin, there was a broken relic.
'Can I really call these gifts?'
Probably not.
Nevertheless, Encrid gave the Fairy something as she asked for her gift.
"A dagger that wards off misfortune."
It was a sacrificial dagger, useless to him but possibly valuable to someone else.
Sinar grabbed the dagger with a quick motion, examined it with her eyes, then tucked it into her robe.
"Something's changed. Let's spar once the rain stops."
She then said what she knew Encrid would be most pleased to hear. In such matters, the Fairy was always considerate.
"Not a bad suggestion."
Encrid washed up, ate, and organized his belongings. Even so, instead of feeling like he was back, he felt a certain emptiness.
Maybe it was because the ones who should have been here were all absent.
They would return soon, but for now, yes, there was a bit of emptiness.
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