Chapter 382

Once he had a goal, all he had to do was strive, then strive again.

That was what Encrid did.

He had already seen the path. He had even touched it. All that remained was to raise everything he had by one more level. Walking the milestones step by step was his forte—his specialty.

What he needed was precision, meticulousness, and delicacy.

‘I’ve already learned it.’

So all he had to do was repeat it until it became his. Nothing was easier for Encrid. All he needed was time.

And today’s repetition.

He had that, too.

Encrid spent his days faithfully, again and again.

“Will that work?”

The ferryman asked. He urged him to learn despair, to learn frustration. He said he should shudder in suffering, and that it was natural.

Like that, he planted doubt in his head.

‘What if I’m wrong?’

What if this is the wrong path?

It didn’t matter. If he saw another wall after overcoming this one, then he’d overcome that wall, too. For now, he was just walking the path his [Will] had made. A wall was a condition, but he set the conditions himself.

He decided to knock them down instead of killing them.

If something blocked him there, he would overcome that, too.

It was resolve, but also a plain mindset.

The ferryman would have clicked his tongue if he had one.

But since he didn’t, all he could do was mutter.

“That crazy bastard is at it again.”

The ferryman knew the wall’s conditions had changed.

It was created by the [Will] of the one who became the subject of the curse.

Absurd, but not impossible. Not unprecedented, either.

He had experienced it himself.

Usually, once they realized the wall’s conditions, they found some way to choose the easy path. It wasn’t common to do otherwise.

But that bastard Encrid?

He chose a harder one.

Just enduring and subduing the orange-haired female knight was already difficult.

But Encrid aimed to do it in a short amount of time.

He instinctively realized he couldn’t get through today by merely enduring.

“He’s crazy—viciously crazy.”

The ferryman muttered again.

There was no answer.

He would keep wandering the river alone, as always.

—

Encrid didn’t think it was impossible to overcome the wall he faced.

After countless spars, Aisia’s habits were already familiar to him.

Sure, it would be easier if it were a fight to the death. But he chose this path because he didn’t want that.

Chase two rabbits and you lose both.

But if you could catch both, why not?

‘Do I really have to catch only one?’

He had today.

He could repeat it.

Then he should make the condition itself the act of catching both.

‘Don’t kill Aisia, and overcome the wall.’

Subdue her quickly and move forward. Find the place he was supposed to stand.

That would be in front of Krang.

Encrid decided to use that as his standard.

What came after?

He didn’t care.

If the one who cut him off became a wall again, then he’d overcome it again.

It wasn’t like he’d never faced walls back-to-back.

Still, he felt a strange premonition.

That man appeared under a condition. That alone didn’t feel like a wall blocking his path.

Aisia confronting him first only strengthened that premonition. If it were his wall, it would have stood in front of him.

“Rem.”

That was how he greeted the new today.

Today, he decided to move forward.

Encrid called Rem the moment he got up.

“…It’s not even dawn yet.”

Rem answered without opening his eyes.

“Come out, you barbarian bastard. I’ll shake the filth out of your head.”

The tone was too indifferent to be called provocation, but Rem reacted anyway.

The barbarian opened his eyes.

Gray eyes that cut through the pale blue of dawn stared straight at Encrid.

“Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s put up a tombstone today.”

It was a signal.

Encrid’s signal that this would be a fight with half their lives on the line.

Rem accepted it.

“What would be a good epitaph?”

He got up and took his axe.

“A pioneer who split open a barbarian’s head and explored it.”

“Do you really want to die today?”

Rem sounded half serious.

“If you underestimate me, you’ll die.”

Encrid warned him.

Rem didn’t know what today’s accumulation had produced. That meant he would be careless.

Aisia, too.

‘If you can’t stop me, Aisia can’t stop me either.’

The moment they went outside, took their stances, and measured distance—

Andrew stumbled out, rubbing his eyes, then froze.

Clang!

The sound rang out, as if driving away the dawn mist.

Encrid kicked off the ground and swung his longsword with [Will of the Moment].

Rem blocked.

With sword and axe pressed together, they looked like a painting.

Their breath rose above their heads and mingled with the dawn chill, like pale smoke.

Both of their auras were twice as threatening as usual.

“Fuck, did you have a good dream?” Rem asked, their weapons still locked.

“I have those every day.”

Dreams of dying weren’t good. But no day was wasted. Every day had value.

Seeing Encrid’s fervor—something he’d never shown like this—Rem responded in kind.

“Good. Let’s die.”

Encrid had already been doing that.

He learned while half-dead.

He repeated fighting Aisia the same way.

Encrid kept walking. Kept moving forward.

He had already stacked dozens more todays like that.

The sparring with Rem ended at a reasonable point.

Encrid had used everything he could.

“Sometimes I see it, and it’s so amazing it feels strange.”

In the end, Rem said that.

His eyes didn’t hold shock. They held surprise—an emotion buried behind his calm gaze.

Ragna and Jaxson weren’t much different.

Even Dunbakel opened her eyes wide.

Esther, about to leave, did the same.

Encrid brushed his hair back and shook off the sweat.

Preparation was over.

Repeating the same day and walking up to Aisia was something he could do with his eyes closed.

In fact, he knocked down the Advance Nonsense Instructor while keeping his eyes closed.

“Fuck, what is it! Why are you fighting with your eyes closed!”

Ignoring the shout right before the man died, Encrid opened a hole in his neck, told the maid to get up and hide to the side, and went straight ahead.

He ran toward Aisia, almost as if he were charging.

“What’s behind you?” he asked as soon as he faced her.

“What?”

“I’m asking who’s behind you.”

Aisia frowned at the question.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m asking because I don’t know.”

“…Then why are you so confident?”

“It’s a habit.”

“Are you a crazy bastard?”

“I hear that often.”

“Either way, I can’t let you go. It’ll be a dog’s death.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Prove it.”

A similar conversation.

Aisia raised her sword and aimed.

Encrid knocked it away with his eyes closed.

Clang!

“…What was that?”

“There’s no need to do it again, but you’ll be suspicious, right? Try again.”

Aisia frowned, but did as he said.

She aimed again.

Clang!

He knocked it away again.

Even with his eyes closed, Encrid moved as if they were open.

Then he let his focus drift and ignored [Sword Tip Aiming].

“What have you been doing?” Aisia demanded, startled.

“Just attacking.”

There was no need for more words.

What were Aisia’s strengths?

What were her traits?

They weren’t easy to see at first glance. She hid herself that well. She was the sort who specialized in [Illusion Sword].

She started with [Sword Tip Aiming] and branched into flowing blades and fast blades. Her footwork was quick, and she slipped intimidation in between to disrupt her opponent’s movement.

‘Then what are her weaknesses?’

A lack of strength.

A lack of muscle.

So the answer was simple.

Drive her back with [Proper Sword Style], then press her down with [Heavy Sword].

Clang! Clang!

Instead of Silver, he held a gladius in one hand and cut short.

Aisia blocked several times.

Encrid calmly kept pushing.

A fight built on exploiting her weaknesses through today’s repetition.

“You—!”

Midway, Aisia let out a sound that was part shout, part something else, and moved her feet.

She switched both feet, leapt sideways in an instant, then kicked off the ground with a thud, stepped on the wall, and sprang again—drawing her sword.

A move possible only with fast feet and a light body.

It was also the result of Encrid pressing her repeatedly.

She kicked the wall and ran, jumping parallel to the ground.

It was something he’d seen every time, but her responses to variables were excellent.

A side effect of accumulating experience while handling [Illusion Sword].

Thanks to that, she responded adequately to almost any variable.

In simple terms, her range of prediction in a fight was wide.

Even now, being blocked by [Proper Sword Style] and pressed by [Heavy Sword] was within that range.

So she kicked the wall and ran with the ground at her side, shifting the fight into three dimensions.

She slipped out of [Proper Sword Style]’s realm and seized a space that briefly escaped [Heavy Sword]’s pressure.

Wall-running with nimble balance—that was what it was.

‘Then what if it’s outside that range?’

Encrid knew how far her predicted range extended.

He knew because he had repeated today and fought her again and again.

So—

‘I’ll break through it.’

Her skill was impressive, but this was intentional.

Encrid brought the gladius to the path of her blade and let it go.

Ting!

The gladius clattered to the floor.

In that instant, Encrid rushed beneath Aisia’s body as she leaned sideways along the wall.

He kicked off low and fast.

Thud!

The carpet under his foot tore as if it had burst.

With no time to pull her sword back and stab, Aisia drew the dagger hidden on her.

A handspan dagger, in her left hand.

She stabbed.

The speed was comparable to [Will of the Moment].

But it was already a known answer.

Encrid bet everything on it.

If he succeeded, he subdued her in an instant.

If he failed, he would repeat it again.

He was already doing this for the seventh time.

With his concentration sharpened, Aisia’s stabbing line looked slow.

Encrid felt as if he were stirring through mud and thrust his arms out, crossing them.

Valaf Style weapon snatch.

He pinned Aisia’s wrist between his crossed wrists.

The dagger’s path twisted naturally.

Encrid deliberately guided the tip toward his abdomen.

Thud.

It pierced the outer leather, but the bandage armor beneath stopped it.

In the same motion, he twisted his crossed arms down and outward.

Crack!

“Ugh!”

Aisia groaned as her wrist was wrenched.

Encrid clamped her wrist with his left hand, spread his right hand wide between thumb and forefinger, and drove it forward—striking her neck.

His right hand was already moving as the dagger bit into his abdomen.

Slap!

The impact rang out.

“Ghk!”

Aisia gagged, a second sound ripping out of her.

If the first had been surprise, the second was shock.

Encrid stepped in, hooked Aisia’s heel with his foot, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and slammed her head into the shield decoration.

Bang!

Blood vessels burst across her nose and face.

Bold. Violent.

It didn’t end there.

He threw her down as if discarding her, then drove his elbow into her torso with his weight behind it.

Thud!

Crack.

Several ribs broke. Her insides would have taken damage as well.

“Hoo.”

Only then did Encrid exhale.

He rolled aside and got up.

Aisia had already fainted, eyes rolled back.

Her face was a mess.

Still, with divine power, she would recover fully.

There was no time to waste.

Encrid took a short breath, barely more than a blink.

If he’d been careless even once, she would have slipped away.

This wasn’t excess.

It was appropriate.

That was how he left Aisia like a shattered vase.

It was still before sunset.

Encrid picked up the fallen sword and moved forward.

Straight inside.

Soon, he broke into a run toward the place where the commotion was.

His heart hammered as he ran.

Even with the Heart of Monstrous Strength giving him boldness and calm, his heart wouldn’t slow—perhaps from anticipation of what came next.

He reached the place by following the noise.

Several men were trying to force their way through a half-broken door.

One of them turned to face Encrid.

“What do you think this place is?”

A man with sharp eyes blocked his path.

What was his level? Encrid didn’t know.

But the pattern on his armor was familiar.

The kingdom’s symbol—sword and Sun Beast.

In other words, the symbol of the Red Cloak Order.

It didn’t stop Encrid’s feet.

Instead, he adjusted his grip.

“Crazy!”

The man thrust his blade forward.

Encrid swung toward the sword flying straight at him.