Chapter 423

“Why?”

The words spat out from beneath the hood came with trembling eyes, as if he had gone mad. His breathing had grown ragged, showing just how shaken he was.

The hand Encrid held trembled nonstop as well.

It was obvious he was in terrible pain.

“The infirmary is over there.”

Since the man clearly looked old, Encrid answered politely.

He seemed like someone whose mind had gone strange from pain. At least, that was how he looked to Encrid.

The shoemaker beside them glared fiercely, but Reddit did not even notice that gaze.

He was so shocked by the unimaginable turn of events that he nearly forgot to breathe.

“Why?”

He asked again without realizing it. To Encrid, it was a baffling question.

He thought he might have felt something like a strange energy from the man’s body, but it had not been especially threatening.

To Reddit, it felt as if he had grabbed a handful of salt and thrown it into the sea.

The curse scattered into the void and vanished just like that.

What is this? A dream? This makes no sense.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Encrid asked kindly once more. This man definitely seemed to have something wrong with his mind.

At Encrid’s calm attitude, Reddit felt his breath catch in his throat.

Because the curse had failed, the divine punishment in his own body flared up. His concentration had also broken from the shock. Panic had set in.

“Urk, urk!”

Reddit collapsed, foam bubbling from his mouth.

“Healer!”

Encrid shouted. Almost before the cry had finished, a large figure came flying over from behind.

It was Audin. His body seemed to grow larger with every step as he kicked off the ground and rushed over. If he had been an enemy, it would have been the kind of approach that made your knees go weak just from watching it.

“Brother General.”

Audin frowned at the sight of the fallen Reddit. It was not an expression he often showed.

“Ah, he’s dead.”

Encrid, who had just called for a healer, confirmed that the man had already stopped breathing.

(T/N: Damn, so anticlimatic hahaha.)

That was how Reddit died. For more than twenty years, as an apostle of the Cult of the Demon Realm, he had killed again and again anyone who interfered with his curses. He had been one of the cult’s foremost assassins.

But here, only two could even begin to guess that.

One, of course, was Audin.

‘The Lord?’

Audin, too, asked inwardly in surprise. The man had clearly been someone who wielded terrifying curses, yet the actual target was completely unharmed.

It was obvious that nothing had happened to Brother General.

And there was also the black panther watching the situation from a few steps away.

Esther had sensed an astonishing level of malice and followed it, and she saw the target.

‘A born curse sorcerer.’

Esther recognized what the man was, but she knew it would not work on Encrid.

She was the Witch of Strife and a mage of exceptional talent.

She did not know what was entwined with Encrid’s body, but it had even shaken the curse on her own body.

So it was only natural that he would not be affected.

For before a greater curse, ordinary curses were insignificant and crumbled away.

“Grrr.”

Esther snorted once and turned back toward the barracks.

Lately, she had been working harder than ever to restore the spell world, so she was extremely tired.

===

The Ferryman clicked his tongue at the inevitable result.

“Tsk!”

In this world, there are things you cannot handle without preparation, and there are also things you can skillfully deflect even without specific preparation.

The latter is only possible through constant study and training in daily life.

For example, if you want to evade an arrow that comes flying at you out of nowhere, you must already be prepared for such things even in ordinary times.

“Isn’t that natural if you don’t want to die to a stray arrow?”

Listening to Rem’s words, that much was true. Hadn’t Encrid also, for that exact reason, trained at times to dodge Jaxson’s dagger from within roughly ten paces?

Depending on the period, sometimes he did it and sometimes he did not, but in any case, he had made preparations like that.

Then was the curse of today the same sort of case?

No, it was neither the former nor the latter.

One thing the Ferryman knew, and Encrid did not, was that a curse is meaningless before a greater mass of curse.

The curse entwined with the repeating today was more vicious than any other curse, including the Ferryman’s own existence.

And fundamentally, curses are structured to dig into the weaknesses of those whose will is weak.

The reason a Straw Doll Curse that makes a distant target feel pain works on some and not on others is because each person’s mettle is different.

Put another way—

‘It’s a difference in [Will].’

The determination the Ferryman saw in Encrid went beyond mere tenacity. It was on a level that felt outright insane.

It was not simply strong resolve. It was the [Will] of madness.

Against someone like that, even a considerable curse would not take hold.

This was also why curses never worked well on knights to begin with.

They wield mysteries founded on [Will].

Of course, the Ferryman knew that the curse of the man who had died with his eyes wide open in shock had been of no small level.

‘He just had the worst possible opponent.’

It was a matter of compatibility.

To someone like Encrid, a curse was beneath even a mosquito. It would feel less annoying than a bothersome fly.

So he would not have felt any sense of danger, and neither instinct nor intuition would have been triggered.

He would have known instinctively that his opponent was not a threat.

“Did he kill a man with just a look?”

A passing townsman blurted out something full of misunderstanding.

“Does killing a man with just a look even make sense?”

Another person right beside him scolded him for talking nonsense.

No one knew that an apostle of the cult who had made a habit of killing with a glance—more precisely, with curses alone—had died so miserably.

It was truly a futile death.

If only he had targeted the entire city with his curse, or aimed for someone other than Encrid, it might have done more.

But that was all in the past now.

Then came the incident of a healer checking whether it might be some contagious disease, and citizens shrinking away from the dead man’s bluish skin.

It was the incident in which Encrid, without even realizing it, became the cult’s greatest nemesis.

===

“Come at me.”

Rem spoke, and Encrid, having returned to the Border Guards, meant to show him something he had been clinging to all this time.

Encrid raised Aker. The tip of the sword was angled diagonally toward the sky.

Rem steadied his breathing.

‘If I go easy, I’ll die.’

Licking his dry lips, Rem wondered when exactly he had started following him this far.

It felt as though the weather had gone mad. It would have been nice if a cool rain had fallen even once, but instead only the blazing sun kept pouring down.

It was the kind of weather where sweat streamed off you even if you stood still.

Sticky, muggy, uncomfortable weather.

For a moment, Rem forgot that discomfort.

The pressure Encrid gave off sent a chill down his spine.

It was a day without even a hint of wind. Even the dust seemed to be holding its breath, clinging tightly to the ground of the training field.

Everyone nearby naturally became spectators.

No one dared breathe loudly as they watched.

Encrid moved first.

From his stance, his shoulder lifted slightly, and the sword followed.

‘Fast.’

Ragna, watching closely, caught traces of his own swift and heavy swordsmanship in that single strike.

Sinar, who had come to watch, saw it as exquisitely controlled swordsmanship.

Audin recognized hints of the close-quarters strikes he had taught him.

Encrid simply swung his sword with unwavering concentration.

What is [Will]? It is resolve.

What is resolve? It is the determination to accomplish something.

‘The explosive power of the [Will of Moment].’

He tightened his muscles and then released them, adding momentary acceleration to amplify the force. Into that, he mixed the pressure of the Heavy Sword Style he had learned from Pressing Blade.

To Rem, it looked as if fighting spirit was boiling up from Encrid’s entire body.

The force behind that strike could not be ignored.

Rem also drew out his [Heart of Monstrous Strength]. Using strength rooted in a physique that rivaled an actual giant, he swung both axes.

Encrid stepped in and slashed downward with his sword, while Rem crossed the two axes and swung upward from below.

Normally, lighter weapons struggle to produce destructive force, but not in Rem’s case.

The weapon he had originally used had been this light as well.

The moment the two weapons collided—

Clang!

A deafening roar rang out, and a shockwave spread in concentric circles.

It was such a savage clash that no one would have thought it mere sparring.

The shockwave stirred up the dust that had been clinging to the ground and scattered it in every direction.

After that single exchange, the two stopped with their weapons still locked together.

In that posture, Rem asked,

“What was that?”

“[Giant’s Strike].”

“The name’s a bit cliché. Wouldn’t [Milk-Fed Giant Strength] be better?”

Encrid was not the sort to bark back just because someone else did, so he simply said what he had to say.

Rem seemed to think it was unfair. Even a normal giant would have had to put its full strength into a swing to produce a strike like that.

“What did you do?”

“It’s called [Feather Axe].”

It was the first time Encrid had heard the name. Of course it was. It was a technique from the West, translated into the language of this continent.

Rem was astonished by how much Encrid had grown, and Encrid was amazed by Rem’s skill in handling axes.

Even against [Giant’s Strike], Rem had blocked it by attaching and detaching the axes two or three times.

Though it looked like a straightforward collision of force, Rem had actually redirected the impact with his wrists, enduring it and turning it aside.

It was such a difficult technique that even imagining copying it felt impossible.

And above all, it was a skill Rem had never shown before.

“Did you create it?”

“I refined something that already existed. There hasn’t been a weapon like this before, right?”

Rem said, spinning the axe in his hand once.

He meant his current weapon—light yet sturdy, and perfectly responsive to his will.

Encrid looked at the axe that had withstood Aker.

The fact that its edge remained unharmed was commendable enough on its own.

The craftsman Krang had sent truly had made a proper weapon.

In fact, the craftsman had forged two weapons, felt proud of them, and even given them names. However, neither of the people who received them ever used those names.

“Does it respond if you call its name?”

Rem lightly dismissed the craftsman’s request.

The exact reason was that it was not a sentient weapon, so that was impossible, but there was no reason to explain it in detail.

Ragna called his sword “Swordie.”

If the craftsman had heard that, he would have immediately felt the urge to smash his head with a hammer.

It was very Ragna-like to care about nothing except swordsmanship.

Right after Rem stepped back,

“My Swordie’s turn now.”

Ragna said as he stepped forward.

It was a different kind of fight from Rem’s. The difference from before was that now Encrid was no longer being pushed back one-sidedly.

Seeing Encrid withstand even [Will of Severance], Ragna shouted,

“Excellent!”

He was so exhilarated that he deliberately drew out his talent.

“One more, please!”

Ragna reproduced the swordsmanship Encrid had just shown. To be exact, it was Ragna’s own interpretation of it.

It was insane talent.

Encrid countered it with a technique he had learned from Rem, [Giant Cleaving].

A way of redirecting an opponent’s monstrous blow, built on [Heart of Monstrous Strength].

They repeated it three times.

“One more.”

To be exact, Encrid was the one who asked for it two more times.

He could feel stiffness in the way he received and redirected the attack, and he had the sense that smoothing that out would help his training.

“You’ve improved greatly.”

After the spar, Ragna said that.

Rem also nodded in agreement.

Encrid answered them both calmly.

“I still have a long way to go.”

His goal was set high.

Since both of them knew he was not the type to be satisfied, neither thought much of it.

===

That evening, Rem remained alone on the training field.

‘He’s catching up fast.’

The captain who used to struggle even to handle [Heart of the Beast] was gone.

Then should he also reclaim what he had left behind in the West for the sake of that purpose?

No, he would not.

He had made his resolve and sworn it when he left.

“I will never seek that again.”

He had said those words with his own mouth before he left.

‘Well, things will work out however they work out.’

If he chose to use sorcery, then he would need to retrieve what he had left behind, but not doing that did not mean there were no ways to grow stronger.

Frankly, it was both a shortcut and a slow road. But that did not mean it was without results.

The axe made from Lewis Mountain steel would help with that as well.

Lost in thought, Rem sensed a faint presence pass by and raised his head.

It was that sinister stray cat returning.

Since the training field connected to the path by the entrance, it was natural for people to come and go.

“If you’re going to keep doing that, why don’t you settle down somewhere, you horny cat bastard.”

Rem’s tongue moved on reflex. It was like a man who had wandered the desert for three days chugging water the moment he saw it.

That bastard was someone you just had to curse the moment you saw him.

Jaxson was on his way back after repeatedly persuading guild members who would not listen.

Among them, one particularly stubborn bastard had gotten on his nerves a little.

Wouldn’t anyone come around after nearly dying three times or so?

Already on edge, Jaxson reacted to Rem’s provocation at once.

“Big words from a savage who’s never even held a woman’s hand in his life.”

“I’m already married.”

“I’d wager my middle one that’s a lie.”

Encrid’s sharp tongue had continued to affect both of them.

“Fine, I’ll kill you. Come on.”

Rem got to his feet. It was half out of frustration. Bitter memories had resurfaced, leaving a sour taste in his mouth, and times like these called for beating up some sly stray cat bastard.

Jaxson did not refuse either.

The two fought fiercely, and unlike before, Jaxson brought out everything he had.

That is, he used [Will]. Of course, it was in a form completely different from how a knight used it.

Rem realized he was being pushed back.

(T/N: So it’s Ragna > Jaxson > Rem, now? I’m not sure where to place Audin yet but Rem needs to get an upgrade real soon.)

Did Jaxson not know that?

After taking a certain advantage, Jaxson withdrew and said,

“Go hang yourself.”

“What the hell is this bastard saying?”

Rem said that, then made up his mind.

He had to go to the West.

Preparedness? What did that matter?

That bastard Ragna showing off was already driving him crazy, and now this sly stray cat bastard too?

This was completely unbearable.

He made up his mind then and there that he had to go to the West before long.

(T/N: HJAHAHAHAHA)