"Give up."
The ferryman spoke.
It was as if he hadn't even listened to whether the method was effective.
"Is today painful for you? Another day awaits you. You just need to go there and find solace."
It was persuasion, though the ferryman himself didn't put much effort into it.
Of course, it didn't work. The ferryman knew it wouldn't, so his attitude lacked sincerity.
It was just something he said because it needed to be said.
The ferryman didn't need to put his heart into it.
The madman before him had already given despair and frustration to the neighbor's dog and was only looking ahead.
When told to be trapped in today, he looked only at tomorrow.
"Do as you wish. What can you do? I tried to give you the blessing of escaping death, but you only keep repeating foolishness. Stop yourself, indulging in joy rather than suffering. That is the path you should take."
Even so, the ferryman said what he had to. That was his job. Encrid also did his part.
"Until next time."
It was a farewell. It meant he would be leaving now. It also sounded like he was asking to be sent off quickly.
A new persona briefly awakened within the ferryman, who spoke in a vintage manner.
The ferryman unconsciously tightened his grip on the oar. The urge to smash his head with a lamp and then swing the oar to strike him rose, but the vintage ferryman did not allow it.
"Struggle again in your suffering."
Instead, he spoke with a firm mouth.
"Thank you for the encouragement."
Until the end, Encrid, who had turned the ferryman's insides upside down, faced a new day.
Screeech!
The cry of the screaming spider woke him up. Today began from midnight to dawn.
"Good morning."
Encrid greeted the day with a bright tone, tightened his abs, sat up in one motion, and got off the bed.
He had arranged the space used as a parlor into a makeshift lodging, likely because he was accustomed to living in the barracks.
Maybe that was the reason. Either way, Encrid found this more comfortable.
After all, what could be better than having a training ground right outside the door?
"Explain to me what's so good about this morning."
Rem voiced his complaint.
"If you open your eyes, it's automatically a good morning."
Despite the fact that it was nighttime and they had been awakened by the sound of screams, Encrid insisted on this as he prepared his gear.
As he moved, he reviewed the things he had organized in his mind.
It was a recollection.
Reflecting wasn't only necessary for battles. Organizing what needed to be done as one repeated the day was similar.
To be more precise, it was a reflection of everything, from mindset to tasks.
Knight Oara had said she would protect the place where she was born. That was her dream. Her goal. Her Knightly conviction. It was her sense of responsibility and duty. Her vow. Her oath.
As he repeated the day, he also learned of Oara's vow.
To face any event without surprise and to greet even death with a smile.
That was Oara's oath. Hence, she was always smiling.
If she lost her smile, her sword would lose its power. To prevent that, what must be done?
To end the repetition of today, the city must be protected.
He had to protect the smile on her face. That was also how he could protect her dream.
"Smiling means you don't lose."
Oara, who had no intention of losing to anyone.
'If only I could face her in a proper condition, maybe it could happen.'
Nothing was certain, but he would try. It would be enough to do as he always did.
Encrid had assessed the entire situation. He classified and decided what needed to be done instinctively.
He missed Krais a little, but it didn't matter.
If he wasn't there, he would manage without him.
"Let's go."
Encrid, now fully armed, spoke.
A determination to fight and protect naturally arose.
Encrid had aspired to become a Knight to protect everything behind him, and this was no different.
Just because Oara was a Knight and fought better than him didn't mean she wasn't someone to be protected.
No.
Encrid was arrogant and proud in this regard.
'I will protect her.'
He would do so out of respect for what she desired.
"Everyone, retreat."
There was Oara, who had told them to fall back because they couldn't protect it.
There was Oara, who held on even by biting the arm of the creature known as the Fragment of Balrog.
There was Oara, who fought with her fists and feet against monsters, even after losing her smile and breaking her laughter.
At the very least, he would let her fight to her heart's content.
Encrid set a new goal.
"Do you think that will happen?"
"Are you asking?"
The ferryman seemed to question. Although he didn't actually ask, his words consistently carried the same meaning.
It was an irrelevant question. An irrelevant persuasion. A meaningless echo.
No permission was needed.
There had never been any need for permission.
The reason for consulting the ferryman was more about organizing thoughts by speaking them out loud.
The organization was complete.
They had emerged from their lodgings and blended into the noisy scenery of the city.
As they walked, Encrid spoke.
"Rem."
"What?"
"Do you think I can fight like a Knight in a short time?"
Rem looked into the eyes of the madman.
As always, his gaze was disturbingly sincere.
This guy would sometimes go mad in the most intense ways.
This time was no different. Rem didn't know what kind of change had occurred in his mind, but it was clear he had some crazy idea again.
"Do you think it's possible?"
He asked, knowing it wasn't. But his eyes remained sincere, with two blue flames flickering brightly.
"The concept of a Knight here is..."
"It's about using Will."
A passing unit Commander interrupted just as Rem was about to speak. Encrid nodded vaguely in acknowledgment.
Encrid walked with purpose, as if he knew exactly where he was going. His pace was quite fast. It wasn't quite running, but it was a brisk walk.
He was ahead of the unit that the Commander referred to as a wave.
Matching his pace, Rem continued speaking.
"It's about using Will. I know how to use this so-called Will, too."
Will was a form of determination. Rem knew that as well, but he was walking a different path.
"But I'm on a different track. Even if I tried to go in that direction, the conclusion is that what's impossible is impossible."
In short, there was no way to imitate a Knight's power in a short time.
Encrid's gaze shifted to the side. The next target of the blue flames was Frog.
"Lua."
"There's none."
Luagarne's response was even shorter. In her view, Encrid didn't seem anxious at all.
"Why are you asking?"
"Just because."
Encrid's answer was simple. There wasn't much else he could say.
Did he have a plan because he knew what was going to happen?
Was he trying to make sure Oara fought properly, and for that, he needed to do something? Was that something to fight as well as a Knight in a short time?
Would anyone believe that?
Would anyone accept that?
A Knight was someone who had been selected from those with exceptional talent, chosen from among the chosen. Even among the selected few, only the rarest became Knights.
There were no shortcuts. Naturally, it wasn't possible.
But what if it was just one strike?
What if that one strike could change the course of the battle?
"Let's run."
Encrid spoke and moved.
Of course, there were things he had heard, seen, and learned through the repetition of today.
"Roman!"
Upon reaching the city gate, Encrid sought out the Junior-Knight with the massive greatsword.
"...What is it?"
Roman, who had just smashed the head of a spider beast with his pommel and kicked it away in front of the gate, turned around.
In front of him, the black fluid from the monster pooled on the ground.
It had splattered on Roman's face and clothes, making him look utterly fierce.
His grim appearance made him look like Rem's brother, but Encrid saw hope in Roman.
"How do you do that strike from before?"
Roman blinked several times.
He wondered what kind of nonsense this was.
Soon, Roman understood and opened his mouth.
"In this situation, that's what you want to ask?"
Roman asked aloud and with his eyes.
Are you really crazy?
Encrid nodded.
"Yes, I want to ask."
"Master, this guy is insane, isn't he?"
Roman raised his voice.
Oara, who was up on the wall, burst into laughter.
"Just tell him."
"Why should I reveal my trump card?!"
In the meantime, Encrid stabbed Ember into an approaching spider beast.
His left foot extended forward, and the blade shot out like a flash.
In a blink, Ember pierced the spider's head and withdrew.
After fighting for so long, he had become familiar with the monsters' patterns.
These creatures enjoyed surrounding a few with many.
Before that could happen, there were always a few core creatures.
Encrid drilled a hole in one of their heads and threw the remaining three Whistle Daggers.
The repeated days had led to the mastery of his skills.
This time was no different.
Encrid didn't waste a single moment.
His thoughts were focused, and he trained as he always had.
He combined training with the practical experience of killing monsters.
A knife flew with more precision than before, piercing the head of another spider beast.
When he followed up with a thrown spear, the attacking beasts' flow was disrupted.
These creatures, which had been subtly moving in an annoying way, began to charge forward in a straight line.
"Hmph!"
A short blonde-haired woman began thrusting with a relatively thin and long spear.
The shaft of the spear bent and flexed as the spearhead seemed to multiply into dozens, stabbing at the oncoming spiders' bodies and heads without discrimination.
A silent scream echoed. Black blood poured out from a mouth that looked like six pieces of metal had been fused together, spreading to the sides.
It was the effect of the poisoned spearhead.
Encrid's eyes followed her spear, observing her technique.
'A threatening technique against multiple opponents.'
She was a Junior-Knight who demonstrated overwhelming power, especially against weaker foes.
This was already known to him, so he just skimmed over it with his eyes.
"Looks like we've got some time now, don't we?"
Encrid spoke after dealing with the swarm of spiders.
"Are you really asking me to just reveal all my tricks?"
"Don't you want to?"
"This guy really is crazy, isn't he?"
Roman shook his head as he spoke.
"Just show me."
Encrid was relentless. If there had been more time, he might have asked slowly, once or twice a day.
But the situation was different now.
Beyond just the desire to learn and master something, there was a way to help Oara in her fight, and it seemed to be here.
There was no better way.
So he kept at it.
"Teach me."
He asked while killing spiders.
"Get this guy out of here."
Roman snapped in frustration.
"He's not someone who'll leave just because you tell him to."
Rem laughed, sensing that Encrid was doing something genuinely crazy for the first time in a while.
Jaxon, at one time, had taught Encrid a sensory technique during the repetition of the second day he spent in the infirmary.
Jaxon did so because he knew Encrid wouldn't give up.
This man was relentless, obsessive, and downright insane.
"Aren't you going to leave?"
Roman grew angrier.
It seemed he was about to swing his weapon at Encrid instead of the spider monsters.
But Encrid remained unfazed. He was like a rock, a rock that wouldn't yield even if drops of water fell on the same spot countless times—whether that rock was stone, steel, or black gold.
It was the sight of determination turning into stubbornness.
"Puhahaha."
Oara, seeing this, clutched her stomach and laughed, while Rem, splitting a spider's head, also chuckled.
Dunbachel, watching, felt a bit of her unease lift.
This madman was willing to go to any lengths, whether it was a wave or whatever, just to learn a single technique.
Truly a madman.
After twelve rounds of resistance, Roman finally admitted defeat.
"You crazy lunatic, do you think you'll understand even if you listen?"
"Probably not."
Damn, why did he have to admit that?
By this point, Oara was rolling on the wall, laughing so hard she couldn't stand. She even shed tears as she laughed.
Rem was satisfied.
Everyone around, the soldiers watching, even the archers on the wall—everyone could see it now.
This guy was on a whole different level of crazy.
"So you still want me to tell you?"
"At least let me hear it."
"Are you leaving it to me?"
"No."
"Don't agree so quickly! Don't just accept things right away!"
Roman, frustrated, finally began his explanation.
"Hey, a Knight's strike is basically imbued with Will."
Encrid already knew that much.
Roman took it a step further.
Why couldn't he block Oara's sword?
So he asked, and Oara answered.
"I spun my Will around it."
It was an abstract answer, but whether it was due to the Goddess of luck or a moment of insight, Roman himself didn't know.
However, he found a direction and moved towards it.
"From the tips of my fingers to my toes, I made sure my entire body was imbued with Will when I made a swing."
It wasn't an easy explanation.
"Isn't that what you normally do?"
Encrid asked back. He, too, used Will in that manner. When thrusting with full force, he would channel a burst of acceleration in a single moment.
He did so when unleashing White Lightning, and the same applied to the strike he named Giant's Strike.
As Roman spoke, he struck the head of an approaching spider.
With a single punch, the spider's head shattered with a crack.
There was a reason he was a Junior-Knight.
That marked the beginning of the prepared monsters emerging from the Demon Realm.
Five trolls, bipedal spiders, and two owlbears.
This time, an additional owlbear and some trolls appeared.
However, the intense sense of crisis they felt before was significantly diminished.
Ironically, seeing Encrid trying to learn something boosted the morale of their allies.
It was an unintended consequence.
As a result, even the timing of the monsters' attacks slowed down.
Oara descended from the wall, wiping her eyes with her fingers.
"Phew, I almost died from laughing."
Not exactly something a Knight known as the Smiling Oara should be saying.
"So, is there anything else to say?"
Even as the atmosphere shifted, Encrid persisted in asking, and Roman shook his head in disbelief.
"Do you use Will even when you're just holding a fork? Or when you draw your sword? Or when you take a stance?"
The meaning of Roman's words was simple.
'Controlling every action, down to the smallest muscle movements.'
For what purpose?
Solely for that one strike.
It was then that Encrid finally understood Roman's words.
Encrid repeatedly practiced what Roman had said until he welcomed the new day, but it wasn't easy, of course.
In fact, it felt daunting.
Even though he understood, it didn't work as he wished.
Was Will something that moved exactly as one desired?
That was the beginning.
In the pitch darkness, when a single ray of light is found, people speak of hope.
Encrid had never once given up or let go of the rope, so he didn't speak of hope.
However, something he gained through Roman ignited a fire in his heart.
What exactly was he doing now?
It was mimicry.
The same mimicry he used when trying to replicate Ragna's sword.
But could he perfectly replicate a Knight's sword technique?
To put it simply, no, he couldn't.
Why?
'Because every Knight's path is different.'
Their swords are all different.
This was something he knew from experience.
It was what the Knight of Aspen, Ragna, the Mercenary King, and Sinar had taught him.
So instead of imitating, he would have to find his own path and move forward.
This was the beginning.
Encrid began to study a Knight-level strike.
For that, he needed to repeat today 162 more times.
Only then did he reach a realm of understanding.
Or rather, it was a realm where, although he knew it in his mind, his body could now respond.
"Controlling even the movement of your toes, making Will linger in each finger—this is it, right?"
When he asked, already knowing the answer, Roman's eyes in the new day widened in surprise.
"Geniuses, huh."
And so, Roman misunderstood.
Encrid didn't bother correcting that misunderstanding.
Now, it was time to start putting his thoughts into action.
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