Chapter 228
Junior Knight Aisia.
She was a member of the knight order who had come with Frok Ruagarne.
The technique she had used was a form of ‘Pressure.’
A skill based on [Will]—what the knight in front of him now displayed was the same.
No, it was even more advanced.
Encrid could see the formless blades slashing, stabbing, and cutting through his body. There were more of them, and they were faster than Aisia’s.
Even knowing they were false, even knowing they were illusions, he couldn’t simply ignore them.
His instincts knew it came from the opponent’s [Will], but [Perception of Evasion] still activated.
He almost reflexively retreated, but Encrid gritted his teeth.
His body flinched. His shoulders trembled. To not dodge as the blades closed in, he had to embrace the sword within his chest.
It was the same as before.
If he couldn’t push through, it was just escape, just evasion.
Just like with Aisia’s pressure.
If he couldn’t overcome it, he’d be crushed by the wall—admitting defeat without ever fighting, without even reaching out.
He remembered the Boatman’s mocking smile. He could almost see the river trembling with laughter.
Encrid suppressed his instincts.
“You could die,”
said the rapier knight, seeing he would not retreat.
Encrid didn’t listen.
Even in times when death meant the end, he’d risked his life.
It wasn’t to die—he’d struggled just to keep walking forward.
So should he step back now?
Should he?
“Step back.”
The rapier knight repeated.
But Encrid started swinging his sword toward the incoming blades.
He turned [Perception of Evasion] to offense, unleashed the [Heart of Monstrous Strength], and opened the [Gate of the Sixth Sense].
A single point of focus activated, and he was absorbed completely in the moment.
He could see all the approaching blades—all the formless swords.
Slowly and surely.
Encrid swung his sword.
He struck them away, knocked them aside, shattered them. The broken blades vanished like phantoms, shattered like glass.
And for every blade he destroyed, a new one appeared.
“Stubborn fool.”
said the rapier knight.
Those were the last words Encrid heard.
He missed one blade. It bent as it came in, then moved as fast as a hawk. It was only natural to miss it.
Encrid felt the blade slice his throat.
It felt real.
It was horrifying, burning—he genuinely thought he’d died.
Encrid closed his eyes.
But he didn’t meet the Boatman.
When he opened his eyes again—
“Are you awake, crazy captain?”
Rem’s voice.
—
Encrid, having faced the pressure, had flailed his sword madly at thin air, then the whites of his eyes showed as he collapsed.
Yet even as he fell, his posture with the sword remained so precise and clean—it showed he’d trained properly.
Then, without a groan or a scream, like a puppet with cut strings, he just crumpled to the ground.
Right after Encrid collapsed—
Thud!
Someone landed on the ground. Several people moved.
Audin rushed over and caught Encrid as if flying.
Rem drew his axe. Ragna stepped forward to block between Encrid and the rapier knight.
Jaxson was already behind the rapier knight.
“If I’d meant to kill him, he’d be dead already.”
said the knight.
Rem knew it too. The opponent before him was someone even he couldn’t guarantee victory against.
‘Not that I couldn’t kill him if I really wanted to, even alone.’
But was he really alone here?
It meant there was no need to reveal all his cards.
“If he’d died, I’d have cut you down.”
said Ragna. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in his voice. If he said he’d cut, he would.
That certainty was why Ragna’s sword was so strong.
Rem’s usual smile was nowhere to be seen. He said flatly,
“Be careful, all right? My axe tends to act on its own. It’s got a will, it’s an ego-axe.”
His face didn’t match the flippant joke—making it even more intimidating.
“He’s fine physically. As for his head, we’ll have to wait and see when he wakes up,”
Audin said after checking Encrid’s breathing. For once, he left out the usual “brother.”
Pressure affected the mind. It was a force that pressed and strangled the opponent.
When he woke, he might not be the same person.
Audin didn’t worry.
Encrid wasn’t the type to collapse over something like this. Not over something so trivial.
But if a blade of fear had taken root in his heart?
That’s what the opponent had done.
Not a physical chain, but a wound left on the mind.
A mental trauma, you could call it. A fear carved once doesn’t easily fade.
“We’ll see after he wakes up.”
Again, Audin left out “brother.”
That was the end of the fight.
—
When Encrid woke and heard the whole story of what happened after he fainted, he nodded.
“I see.”
Pressure—a technique based on [Will].
So the opponent was at least a Junior Knight.
And a real swordsman at that.
“Interesting.”
Encrid muttered.
Interesting?
Everyone turned to look at him.
If he meant it, something was wrong. His head was broken. Everyone knew it. But if it was Encrid, it was somehow believable.
Wasn’t he just crazy?
That thought crossed everyone’s mind.
A brief silence.
Were things really all right, or was he just putting on a brave face? Could anyone really act like this after what happened?
“He’s fine—just broken as always.”
Rem concluded.
This was Encrid’s normal.
Being afraid of swords?
It could happen. There were plenty of people who lost their minds after war.
Like the story of a soldier who, after seeing a giant on the battlefield, would faint just from hearing the word ‘giant’ for the rest of his life.
But that didn’t apply to Encrid.
He’d already died for real, suffered for real, and endured real pain again and again.
He was not someone who would be bothered by getting cut down and killed by an imaginary blade.
“It was the same when you drew the wraith sword. Captain, you’re really broken in the head,”
Krys said with relief, spinning his right index finger beside his ear.
It seemed he was recalling a similar experience from when the magic sword was drawn.
Smack!
Rem slapped Krys on the back of the head so hard his eyes looked ready to pop, befitting his nickname “Big Eyes.”
“Ow! Why’d you hit me?”
“That’s my thing.”
What’s yours?
Encrid inwardly shook his head as he got up.
“Only I get to do that.”
Rem acted cranky for no reason. Krys pouted but backed off quietly.
It wasn’t like you could reason with Rem anyway.
“Are you really all right, Captain?”
“I must’ve slept too much. My body feels light.”
Asked if he was okay, Encrid just replied that he felt refreshed.
Audin smiled softly.
“A truly remarkable mind you have, brother.”
Audin found himself looking at Encrid anew.
Why wouldn’t he?
Throughout all the long years spent cultivating divinity, what’s required of everyone is patience, and a steady heart.
“Only those who do not yield to any hardship or threat may raise their heads.”
Audin murmured a verse from the scriptures.
No one paid much attention.
Ragna wasn’t a particularly suspicious sort, but still thought a check was needed.
Ching.
He drew his sword, stopping it a finger’s width from Encrid’s nose.
“…You want to spar?”
Encrid blinked and looked into Ragna’s eyes as he spoke.
Anyone afraid of swords wouldn’t be able to hide their unease.
But Encrid’s gaze?
Unchanged. Steady and upright. The same look that even made Swallow Blade recoil.
“We can do it another time.”
Ragna sheathed his sword.
Jaxson, as always, just found Encrid amazing.
‘Feels like he’d survive even if you killed him.’
Not that he’d just sit back and watch if Encrid really was on the verge of death.
Anyway, Encrid stood up without issue.
After that, more sparring followed.
The rapier knight, instead of the soft, friendly blade from before, used [pressure] again.
Once more, Encrid struck down formless blades, only to be cut and killed. Well, not really killed—just knocked out.
It was just something like death digging into his mind and heart.
But that couldn’t change Encrid.
“So you just endure?”
said the rapier knight.
Swallow Blade grumbled,
“Come on, that’s enough. If you’re going to kill him, just do it already, instead of toying with him.”
The rapier knight ignored him.
The half-blood giant and Edin Molsen’s escort had different opinions.
“Next time, it’d be better if he went last. It always ends with someone passing out before it’s even our turn.”
That was the escort’s opinion. The half-blood giant nodded.
Don’t rob everyone else of their chance.
That was also strange in its own way.
The rapier knight saw Encrid’s limits, but acknowledged what had to be acknowledged.
‘Is it [Will]?’
No one here was the same as when they’d first arrived.
All of them were changing the more they faced Encrid.
Summer had passed, and now it was dry autumn. Border Guards was in northern Pen-Hanil, and autumn here was short. The cold would come soon.
Autumn was already halfway through, and it had been thirty days since they’d arrived at Border Guards.
“Tell him the next one is the last.”
said the rapier knight.
“Do as you like,”
Rem replied.
Encrid, who’d woken up after fainting from pressure, nodded.
“I really want to win this time.”
“There’s only one way.”
Whenever new challengers came to town, Ragna usually offered advice after sparring.
This time was no different—he stepped up.
“If you can’t cut down every last one, then parry the illusory blades with your mind.”
It wasn’t a vague suggestion.
‘[Will].’
If you don’t have at least some formless strength to overcome pressure, you can’t win.
“People say [Will] is something you awaken to, but honestly, if it were that easy, the entire knight order wouldn’t exist. A Junior Knight is simply someone who forced their [Will] to awaken. It can be done. Of course, awakening it doesn’t mean you can immediately parry pressure like that, but…”
In other words, just because you learn to walk doesn’t mean you can run right away.
Anyway, based on Ragna’s words, the conclusion was that the opponent was testing him.
Whatever the intention—malicious or kind.
Whether it was goodwill or ill will, Encrid didn’t care.
He simply—
‘[Pressure].’
Just like every time he faced something that choked his body, he wanted to overcome it.
Not that he intended to throw his life away to keep repeating today.
—
Another day passed, and it was a night like any other.
On duty at the city gates, Vell spotted someone approaching in the dark.
“Who’s there? A peddler?”
Vell asked, but already knew this wasn’t just a merchant.
Logically, anyone wandering around alone at this hour was odd, and emotionally, this person just didn’t look ordinary.
“Is this where that ex-soldier lives?”
He wasn’t wearing a black cloak or suspicious clothes.
The man, who came into the torchlight, was young.
His skin was a bit dark, and he had a sword at his waist.
A single arming sword—and on the other side, three daggers in a row. Somehow it all looked very natural.
He was armed, but it didn’t seem that way.
“I was hoping to meet him.”
The man said again. Vell tilted her head, then straightened up and answered.
“We don’t let outsiders into the city at this hour, so come back tomorrow in the daytime. And you’ll meet him tomorrow, right?”
The last part was directed at the guard beside him.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
his partner replied.
It just so happened that tomorrow was the day Encrid would be out and about again.
There’d been rest days, but he hadn’t been seriously hurt lately, so he’d be up tomorrow.
“Lucky you. You’ll see him tomorrow.”
At Vell’s words, the man pursed his lips, then spoke.
“I only have time tonight. Is there any way I can meet him now?”
Vell thought the man was being stubborn, but he gave off a strange vibe.
‘Might as well test him.’
Plenty came looking for the former soldier, but few ever overwhelmed him.
There were quite a few who, after defeating him, simply turned and left.
“All this for just a common soldier?”
They’d say things like that.
Vell tapped his colleague on the shoulder.
“I’m going to check something. If anything happens, ring the alarm.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll put an arrow in his forehead before the alarm’s even needed.”
His partner nudged his side as he spoke.
This one always carried a bow, wherever he went.
A decent shot, too.
He was under Lieutenant Benzense’s platoon.
With that in mind, Vell stepped outside the side gate.
A few sentries watched.
Using the torchlight as a boundary, Vell spoke.
“If you can take me down, I’ll pass on the message for you. Want to try?”
“Sure, that works.”
Even as Vell leveled his spear, the man faced him barehanded.
“…Aren’t you going to draw your sword?”
Vell’s voice deepened.
“If I use this, you might die. I don’t think I need to kill you.”
This guy? The confidence was overflowing.
Annoyance boiled up in Vell, and it was poured into his first spear thrust.
The fight didn’t last long. The man grabbed the shaft of the thrusting spear.
Vell could see his movement, but he was just half a beat too slow.
Closing the distance, he struck Vell in the stomach with his palm.
Thud!
The impact felt like it punched straight through his gut. For a moment, Vell thought he’d been impaled.
He almost threw up from the shock, but barely held it in as the man spoke.
“You can take a hit.”
“…If I went down from a single blow, I’d have had my drill instructor breathing fire at me.”
Vell answered with a shaky breath. His legs trembled from the heavy shock.
Even so, Audin’s punches weighed twice as much as that.
Vell finished his assessment. This man was more skilled than him.
And he said he wouldn’t wait until daylight.
‘Fine, I’ll just pass along the message.’
All he’d do was tell Encrid—he could decide for himself.
Hadn’t Encrid said, over and over, that such people might come?
He’d always said he wanted to meet anyone who stopped by, even just in passing.
If the man could prove his skills, even if it was late at night, it’d be fine.
He’d already met several people that way.
“I’ll be back.”
Vell retreated without fuss. The man hadn’t shown any killing intent or rudeness.
So Vell went into the barracks and delivered the message to Encrid.
“Hang on, I’ll just check myself.”
He got up right away.
“Going alone?”
“Yeah.”
“Well… I guess that’s fine.”
Vell had played the role of gatekeeper for all the people who’d come to challenge Encrid.
To him, this man was below the level of those currently in the market.
No overwhelming aura, no pressure.
She relayed that exactly, and Encrid set off alone, light on his feet.
“Let’s go.”
So Encrid went out, and the two exchanged a few words under the torchlight before crossing swords.
Clang.
The fight between them began.
It was fierce and full of life.
Between them, it felt like dawn was rising.
Light seemed to pour in on the scene.
But then, Vell saw something strange.
Just as the man’s suddenly drawn blade grazed Encrid’s forehead, he shook his head as if in frustration.
Then Encrid’s body began to tremble, and he collapsed forward, face-first, unable to catch himself.
Vell blinked.
‘Did he die?’
Then the world twisted, tore, and changed.
Encrid’s death rewound the day like a clock’s pendulum.
The curse had activated, so Vell lost all memory of the day.
And once again, back on the same today, Vell repeated the task and went to find Encrid.
“Captain, someone’s here to see you.”
“All right.”
Vell tilted his head. He stepped out immediately, without any more details.
As Encrid left, he was grinning from ear to ear—a smile almost never seen, full of excitement.
“Do you know this person?”
Vell asked.
“No.”
Encrid answered as he walked. He said he didn’t, but beneath that answer was uncontainable delight and joy. It was so clear, Encrid couldn’t hide it at all.
