"If I slack off just because my shop collapsed, is someone going to buy me bread? I can't send my daughter off to be married empty-handed. Or will you take my daughter?"
It was when he had opened the door to his sixth sense. The cobbler, despite having lost his workshop, had not rested his hands.
He remembered it clearly because it was an impressive event.
It couldn't be called a grand spectacle, but the artisan had shown his work, and Enkrid had watched.
He picked up the tanned leather, beat it, stitched it, and applied adhesive. The process of creating the frame and shape, then firmly securing it, flowed like water.
What had he thought while watching that?
'How long must one do that to become so proficient?'
He had certainly thought that, and he had believed that he, too, would become accustomed to it if he swung his sword without rest.
As always, those were days filled with constant contemplation on how to move forward.
Then, the image of Aitree swinging his hammer also came to mind.
'Was there any hesitation in that touch?'
He had never seen such a thing. Whether sharpening a sword on a whetstone or hammering heated iron, Aitree's hands simply moved without rest.
If it were a road one had traveled hundreds, thousands of times, one could find it even with closed eyes.
Aitree's handling of iron was like that.
And the Frog beside him? Was the touch of that Frog, who said he would make accessories even if it meant hammering a nail into his slippery hand, clumsy?
It was not. Not at all, there wasn't the slightest hint of it.
He would wake before the sun rose, pick up the tools suited for his body, melt silver, attach gold, and handle various other metals, busy pulling out what was in his head.
There would have been no room for clumsiness in a task repeated without a single day's rest.
Even when mistakes followed and failures came one after another, his hands naturally moved on to the 'next' step.
He hadn't seen everything, but he could tell from the skilled movements. He must have repeated the same task for a very long time.
Snap!
One day, Jaxen had suddenly approached with his presence concealed and snapped his fingers. Startled by the sound, Enkrid had whipped his head around.
"How did you turn your head just now? Did you think and then turn? Did you recognize the sound, find the direction, and then your head turned? Or did you just react?"
Jaxen had said he couldn't explain it any more simply, but at the time, he couldn't understand this either.
He might have vaguely understood in his head that using Will was the same, but it would be more accurate to say he hadn't felt it.
The giant merchant naturally spread words that informed those around him of the value of his goods.
The woman grilling jerky controlled the strength of the fire and the amount of seasoning with such naturalness.
Was there any sign of hesitation or contemplation in that process?
'There was none.'
Hadn't he marveled while watching the Ragged Saint and the woman grilling jerky in front of him?
It was a series of movements that fit together perfectly without the slightest disarray.
Did the Ragged Saint groan when he used his divinity?
'It was just perfectly natural.'
He said that what he taught Seiki was the same.
He had told her to release her divinity naturally, to throw it, and to play with it.
He had heard it from Seiki.
"I knew how to handle divinity since I was young. It was a little later that I realized I could actually draw it out and use it. The Commander's brother is the same as me."
Audin had also said.
"It's something you just do, but you're not doing it. It's not that you can't, it's that you won't."
Ragna used to say while dozing off.
'Just as you've swung a sword over ten thousand times to master the cutting motion, you just need to use Will reflexively in the same way. I've already been doing that.'
So, he should be able to do what Aitree did, and he should also be able to do what the jerky-grilling woman did.
While they handled iron and grilled jerky, he swung his sword and moved his Will. Thanks to the undrying well, he could spend time more densely than anyone else.
He had used it and used it again, endlessly. He had done so while repeating today.
But he had thought he couldn't. The reason? He thought it was because Will is intention, and therefore, one first becomes aware of what action to take.
"Why can't you do it? It must be a compulsion. You crazy Commander. You have to raise your will for Will to move? Will and intention are the same? Do you really believe that?"
Isn't Will derived from intention? Am I wrong? That's right.
However, Rem had said that Will and intention are not the same.
He couldn't understand this at the time either. But now, he understood.
Without any grand catalyst, just by remembering the touch of a hand grilling jerky, Enkrid could now naturally move his Will to use his sword.
The start was to present a sword style other than his specialty, but the answer to that also came.
'I just have to make them all a specialty.'
To swing the sword naturally means not having to set a separate specialty.
He didn't know if everyone did it this way, but he would. That was all that mattered.
'No, Audin draws a large circle, but if necessary, he can also become a sharp awl.'
An awl pierces a circle. But it is just as easy to break.
'Variability.'
It is the condition for what comes after becoming an advanced knight.
One must know how to pull out and use a circle or an awl whenever needed.
Thinking about it anew, he seemed to understand just what kind of monsters he had gathered in his unit.
'The moment I caught up to them once, they all equipped themselves with variability and broke me again.'
He himself had led their change, but he neither knew nor wanted to know that now.
A sense of satisfaction just filled him from being among those amazing monsters.
What a fortune it was to have such people right beside him.
He had heard from Marcus about the former battalion commander who had gathered a squad of troublemakers.
Had he called him an opportunist interested only in his own well-being?
'I'm starting to feel like I'd like to meet him once.'
He was at the point where he even felt he had received help.
'Ha.'
In the midst of his thoughts. Something new surfaced in his mind and expanded the concept.
It wasn't just about swordsmanship.
Is Will the exclusive property of knights? The thought that it wasn't stretched and rose from a corner of his mind.
'Will is something that ordinary people also use naturally.'
Of course, using Will isn't easy, and even if used, it doesn't manifest externally, but they do use it.
It was not a doubt, but a certainty.
He had seen it with his own eyes. Hadn't he noticed it by watching them now?
The woman grilling jerky and Aetri hammering iron both unconsciously use Will.
In other words, it was safe to say that when they reached the level of being called an artisan or a master of their work, they were using Will.
'No, if the origin is the same, could it be called mana instead of Will?'
Or perhaps a term only they use is needed.
However, it was certain that technique was not everything.
The dwarf who had visited Aitree in the past had possessed metallurgical skills superior to Aitree's at the time, but he could not feel any sense of dignity from him.
Thinking of dignity, the branches of his thoughts reached towards Krang.
Krang is a sharp awl and a brilliant star. He is a figure who stands out wherever he is. His dignity would not be hidden even if he wore shabby clothes.
'The value Krang possesses is internal.'
What is it that resides within him?
He thought he understood why his words captivated people. The aura seen from him, including his grace and dignity, must also be the work of Will.
'Many people unconsciously use a little bit of Will.'
It was the privilege of those who devoted all their effort, dedication, and time to their work.
Or were born with it.
In the midst of his contemplation, a part of his senses awakened and gave him a stimulus.
Enkrid felt the blowing wind and smelled a scent. It started with the smell. His nose twitched, distinguishing and separating several scents.
The smell of sweat from the party that had been on a forced march, the scent of medicine from Anne, the faint smell of blood from Ragna, the perfume Grida used, and even the metallic scent of their respective weapons—all were smells he had smelled before.
Through them, a distinctly different scent pierced his nose. A faint, rancid, and fishy smell.
After the smell came the sound.
The wind blew, shaking the dense bushes around them. Rustle, rustle, a separate sound mixed in.
The last was touch. His fine hairs stood on end as sensitivity raised its head. In an instant, Enkrid began to feel and search everything around him.
The five senses, which shouldn't mix like oil and water, blended together and became a sixth sense, expanding the realm of his perception.
Then, he knew that a chilling feeling was stimulating the back of his head.
Enkrid turned his head to the side and adjusted the position of the Three-Iron Sword he was holding. The tip of the sword in his right hand lifted. At that small movement, Ragna and the three from the Zaun family reacted.
Ignoring their reactions, Enkrid turned his head from his standing position and looked up to his left.
If one could see killing intent, what form would it take?
His developed sixth sense and the method of naturally using Will that he had just realized merged into one and visualized its form.
It looked like a short, sharp needle flying from far away to pinpoint its target.
His maximized senses unfolded a future page in advance.
In the unfolded page, there was a black soot-like thing lodging itself in Anne's head.
Its identity was unknown. The only certain thing was the killing intent.
The Three-Iron Sword drew a smooth arc. Enkrid moved his left foot to the side, distributing his weight between both feet, and the sword drew a straight line from bottom to top.
He had done all these movements the moment he felt he saw the enemy's killing intent, so to someone watching from the side, it would have looked no different than him raising the tip of his sword and immediately swinging it.
Thwack!
A noise followed. With the sound of flesh tearing and bursting.
Screeeech!
It was a death cry that only a beast would make.
Enkrid saw the blood pouring down from above Anne's head. The color of that blood was jet black.
"Ragna."
Ragna reacted to the call uttered while swinging the sword. Leaping up, Ragna drew his greatsword and swung it diagonally towards the empty air.
Even though he had swung the sword at the same time as straightening his knees, the blow was already fully weighted when he swung it.
It seemed like he had swung at nothing, but Ragna's instinct judged that there was something there.
Rrrrrip!
Screeeech!
The noise continued. A gruesome scream rang out with the sound of tearing flesh.
Enkrid confirmed what he had cut. It was a bat monster. Its fangs were several times longer than what could be seen in an ordinary bat.
It was split in half, spilling its blood and entrails, so it was already dead.
He also saw what Ragna had cut.
This one was an Owlbear. Originally a monster resembling an owl, they also had the nickname "hunter of the night."
They were difficult to detect if they concealed their presence with determination.
'For them to get this close without being sensed seems to be a different problem.'
Was it similar to when Jaxen approached with intent? No matter how well bats or Owlbears concealed their presence, this was too much.
Enkrid's senses caught something else besides the killing intent of the monsters and beasts.
It was thanks to cutting the walking fire and training with Esther.
It smelled of a spell. There was nothing to compare it to, but if Esther smelled of dry firewood under a night sky,
now, there was a cloyingly sweet scent like squeezed fruit. To express it this way, it was a very unique sensation for Enkrid.
Because the cloyingly sweet smell was faint.
It was strong, but those who couldn't perceive it wouldn't be able to smell it. Enkrid himself could barely catch it.
He also felt a sense of unease.
Both the bat monster and the Owlbear had a single target.
'Why?'
Enkrid's gaze turned to the strong-willed, freckle-faced woman who was surprised and scared but did not scream.
'Why are they targeting Anne?'
Do monsters and beasts have that level of cognitive ability? Or was it a coincidence?
"Magrun."
No sooner had Enkrid called for Magrun than Grida spoke and turned her head towards their surroundings.
"Odin, keep watch. What the hell is this monster?"
The group had been gathered around the crackling campfire.
"What is this all of a sudden?"
Magrun approached while scanning the surroundings.
It was laughable to be like this over mere monsters, but the earlier monster attack had raised their guard.
Just because one is a knight doesn't mean they aren't poisoned, nor does it mean they don't bleed when stabbed.
Moreover, monsters and beasts inherently possess abilities superior to humans.
Can an ordinary human break a log with their bare hands?
An Owlbear can break a tree with just its arm strength, without any recoil, from a stationary position. Their claws are that hard, and their forearms possess that much strength.
Therefore, a proper knight would overreact rather than be careless. They were the same. Enkrid was no different.
His sixth sense remained on edge like sharp thorns. The smell still lingered at the tip of his nose, exuding a cloyingly sweet scent.
It felt like if he relaxed his concentration for even a moment, he would forget that there was a scent.
It was like smelling the faint remaining scent from a dried flower petal held right up to his nose. It meant that if the petal moved even slightly away from his nose, it would be difficult to smell.
"Do the monsters around here use magic too?"
Enkrid asked while keeping his senses sharp.
"What are you talking about? This isn't our territory yet. Nor is it Imperial territory."
That said, the place they were in couldn't be called the Border Guard's territory either. They were northeast of the former Count Molsen's territory, before even reaching the Pen-Hanil Mountains. They had been attacked in such ownerless land.
'But I don't feel any killing intent.'
The smell still remained.
'Where is it?'
How do you find an invisible enemy?
Enkrid's gaze swept over the surrounding environment.
Using the environment was a basic of tactics. He reached out and picked up a piece of firewood from the campfire. It had not even burned halfway, making it good to use as a handle. Whoosh, embers rose along the firewood. Swoosh. The embers scattered into the darkness with the blowing wind and disappeared.
The firelight flickered, and Enkrid's shadow billowed like a wave.