"This is kind of strange."
Rem said while fiddling with his axe. Since the purpose of the sparring was clear, there was no need to continue.
They ended it without deciding a winner, just constantly clashing weapons.
Everyone, including Rem, who had been competing for their turn in the spar, had the same intention, and they all felt the same way as Rem.
'Is there no exhaustion?'
Jaxon thought to himself silently.
"It should be tiring."
Ragna's words carried the same meaning.
Once you realize Will and it starts swirling inside your body, the first thing you feel is a sense of omnipotence.
It literally feels like you can do anything.
In extreme cases, it feels like you could grab a cloud, pull it, and shape it into the form of a sword.
Of course, it's an absurd thought, something impossible, but you think it might be doable.
It's a feeling as if anything is possible, and being intoxicated by this omnipotence is far more exhilarating than any drug.
That excitement drives you to action, and eventually, you recklessly unleash Will, moving around, too excited to realize you're tiring yourself out.
In this way, one learns to distinguish between what can and cannot be done, but Encrid had already made that distinction.
Oh? This works, but that doesn't.
You have to walk close enough for your sword to reach the neck to cut it off.
You can't chop down a tree from a distance just by gesturing at it.
It's like learning to walk again after being reborn, learning how to manage this sense of omnipotence.
But what happens if you recklessly unleash Will?
Exhaustion sets in. Your energy drains completely, and you collapse.
If you keep moving in that state, your body will break down.
Of course, over time, you'll recover, but if you continually induce exhaustion to drain your power all at once, not only will it shorten your recovery time, but it will also likely leave permanent damage to your body or mind.
'Though it doesn't seem like that'll be the case.'
Rem scratched his cheek.
Still, isn't this a bit too strange?
Ragna and Jaxon had vied for this first sparring match to control the exhaustion.
It was rare for even Jaxon to jump in for a spar.
It was the moment when you needed to guide him to control that omnipotence. Who wouldn't want to lead in such a moment?
That's why the three of them had even thrown dice and gone to such lengths.
But what's going on here?
"I'm still fine."
Encrid, despite sweating profusely, showed no signs of his energy diminishing. He was still the same as when they started.
"This is really strange."
Rem repeated, while Audin just laughed softly.
He had already experienced this yesterday, and had predicted this outcome.
Those three hadn't bothered to watch Encrid's movements before the spar, thinking it wouldn't be fun if they knew in advance.
And so, they were surprised.
Encrid stood there without a problem. He should have collapsed from exhaustion long ago.
"Well, let's just move on."
Rem brushed his hands off. It wasn't a problem that thinking could solve.
There were all sorts of things in the world, and anything could happen. Rem knew that better than anyone.
The same went for Ragna and Jaxon.
Rem moved on to the next topic since exhaustion wasn't an issue.
Next up was skill.
When you reach a level where you can handle Will 'comfortably', something more refined naturally emerges from within.
You begin to wield Will with more precision or, conversely, more weight.
There's no difference even in sorcery, so Rem understood these things well.
Will could be replaced by sorcery and the strength of spirits, so though he used it a little differently, the principle was the same.
But this, too, was a bit unclear. It was hard to put into words.
For someone who became a Knight, Encrid was rather dull.
His swordsmanship, his sense, and his courage had certainly increased dramatically, but his use of Will was clumsy.
It was heavier, even more so than before, or at least, that's how it felt.
Not that this meant a regression in his skill.
It was just that there was no specific trait that stood out. Was it that he got stronger and faster? Maybe just a bit rough and unrefined? The most notable thing was that he didn't get tired.
Even the slight roughness and messiness were only noticeable to Rem. If someone like Lawford or Pel saw him, they'd wonder what Rem was even talking about.
That's how big the gap was between Encrid and those two.
So, what should you do if you're clumsy or a bit messy? If you're unrefined?
'Does it matter?'
It didn't.
Honestly, no one knew what would happen going forward.
No one.
But nobody thought it was a bad thing either.
However, including Luagarne, everyone had at some point wondered the same thing.
What would happen if someone like this became a Knight?
If the size of his Will grew as much as he kept his oaths?
If the strength of his oath was as high as a tower reaching the sky, how vast would his Will, the invisible power of his resolve, become?
The answer lay here.
No one could gauge it.
Encrid had no predetermined path in front of him.
"Face the vastness. What blocks your path is not a wall, but a wide, open plain."
It was as if someone had said that.
Is that so?
Encrid had stepped onto unknown land. He had just taken his first step.
Was it the right direction? He didn't know. Was he walking into uncertainty?
No.
Encrid smiled.
What lay ahead was not a barren land without signposts, but a wide-open road where no signposts were needed.
So, all he had to do was walk.
That's why he smiled.
"Well, you look good when you smile."
Rem smiled along with him.
Jaxon showed a faint smile, and Ragna smiled warmly as well.
'I'll need more finesse.'
Encrid felt like he knew what he had to do after just one sparring session.
It was something he never would have imagined before.
Before, not knowing what to do, he would blindly swing his sword, run, and climb steep mountains bare-handed to improve his grip strength.
It's not that those things didn't help, but he hadn't done them with any clear understanding. That's why he used to chase after sword instructors with a weapon in hand.
Encrid didn't deny the path he had walked or the time he had spent.
He just realized he no longer needed an instructor like before.
'Mastering the art of handling Will.'
To put it into words, it was like acquiring a new sensory organ and learning to control it. But normally, it wouldn't be that difficult. For Encrid, it was a challenge.
That was because his Will was too vast. He was simply different.
So, it wouldn't happen all at once. He already knew that. But it didn't matter.
"Whew."
Feeling the sunlight on him, the breeze carried away the heat as the sweat dripped down.
"Can I ask for your thoughts, fiance?"
Sinar asked, having approached at some point.
Encrid's gaze turned toward the Fairy.
Along with it, the memory of her arm dissolving into dust came to mind.
She wasn't the only one.
Encrid remembered Rem's aging face.
He remembered Jaxon, glaring at him with a distorted expression.
He remembered Ragna, who silently stared at him.
He also remembered Audin, who radiated light while blood flowed from every hole on his face—his eyes, nose, mouth.
The memory, that face, those expressions, that behavior, known only to him.
"It took a while thanks to those fools, but it's good."
He spoke while glancing at Rem, Jaxon, Ragna, and Audin. Lawford and Pel were not present.
Esther stood a little behind them, and Odd-Eye was there as well.
Encrid's gaze swept over them too.
Everyone's eyes were on him.
It was an absurd joke.
He was who he was because of them. He said it because he knew that.
Sinar showed a rare, faint smile.
She couldn't hide her delight and joy at Encrid's radiant smile.
"Damn it."
Rem chuckled, responding, and Audin offered a prayer, while Jaxon let out a hollow laugh, and Ragna raised his sword.
It was his turn to spar next.
Encrid readied himself again.
There was no exhaustion. He wasn't tired. He wasn't intoxicated with omnipotence.
The clumsiness of his fighting style would resolve over time.
Ragna simply wanted to fight.
Watching wasn't enough to satisfy him.
Jaxon took a step back and fell into thought.
'He's tricky to deal with.'
You could wound him if you struck a weak point. You could gain the upper hand if you used poison.
However, both were too awkward to use in a spar. If the opponent were a barbarian, you could just throw those techniques out there.
Most of Jaxon's techniques were tricky to use in a spar.
That's why he backed off. He had seen that there was no exhaustion, so there was no need to wear him out in the spar.
He had only jumped in because it made more sense to face him directly than to leave it to barbarian or someone like lost wanderer.
Thinking so, Jaxon drew two daggers and took his place in line.
His actions contradicted his thoughts.
"Next is me."
And his words did too.
Watching the Captain would often ignite a fire in the cold heart of an assassin.
Encrid still wore that same smiling face. More precisely, it was a smile filled with anticipation.
No one would have known.
There had been many times when Encrid watched Rem and Ragna fighting and dreamed of standing in their place.
And now that dream was perfectly realized here and now.
He held Aker and got into position.
- Hey, he's pretty skilled.
That was the effect of the Will radiating from his entire body. The sword, imbued with Will, conveyed the meaning. The hum of the vibrating blade turned into words and entered his mind.
Encrid ignored it and focused. Soon, a white lightning strike silently descended from above.
Though his Sixth Sense, the future sight, showed him a glimpse of the future, the moment of perception and the arrival of the blade happened simultaneously.
Encrid's Aker also radiated a white light as it soared upward.
Clang!
The two swords clashed, tangled for a moment, and then separated.
A few exchanges of blows, footwork—all of it was at the level of a Knight.
Ragna won the spar.
After Ragna, Jaxon stepped in, and this time it was a draw. Jaxon was the first to throw in the towel and back off, and Encrid finally admitted that he had a hard time keeping up with Jaxon's footwork.
If either Ragna or Jaxon had fought to the end, no one knew how it would have ended.
Rem then grabbed his axe and rushed in.
The sparring continued until the sun went down, yet Encrid's Will never dried up.
"He's become a monster."
Rem's statement was accurate. Everyone nodded in agreement.
Among them, Luagarne let out a grumbling sound as oil dripped from all over her body. She was that overwhelmed with emotion.
* * *
"I trust you."
The owner of the throne, seated atop three steps and a red carpet edged in gold, spoke.
The man standing before him raised his deeply bowed head and replied.
"I shall reclaim the lost land of Aspen."
The man who raised his head had a black nose, ears resembling those of a wolf, and pupils distinctly different from those of a human. Naturally, he was a wolf beastman.
"Then."
The wolf beastman general turned his body.
Once known as the honorable protector of Aspen, he had since been relegated to a dead-end position. As he exited the grand hall, two humans and a Frog were waiting for him.
"Avnair?"
As soon as he stepped out, the wolf beastman asked. For some reason, the beastman sniffled as if something didn't sit right with him.
Though they had only stepped past the door, the throne was still just beyond that single door, yet he showed no hesitation in his demeanor.
Those who knew this was his usual personality remained silent. Even the attendants paid no mind to him.
"It would be wise not to mention that name inside the Royal Palace."
The response came from a well-dressed man. Though he held the rank of a Knight, he knew better than to recklessly confront the beastman before him, so his tone was exceedingly polite.
Not all Knights were equal, right? Of course not.
As a Knight of Aspen, one who had once gifted a single blow to the likes of Encrid and Ragna, this Knight understood that truth well.
"If you're going to throw away honor and everything else, why didn't you just kill him?"
The beastman growled. Was he seriously suggesting that?
Half of it was true, and half was false. He criticized him for not being proud if he had made such a move, leaving it to linger in his heart like a smudge.
"Because of the oath..."
"You'll die because of excuses and justifications. A Knight who fails to uphold their honor leaves a stain on their heart, and that stain will be their downfall. Didn't I teach you that? Have I lived so long that I can't remember properly? Huh?"
The wolf beastman cut him off and launched into a long lecture. The man momentarily felt anger but didn't dare rebel.
If he tried to explain himself further to this nagging master, he'd only be met with more scolding.
And excuses?
It wasn't an excuse, but a fact. He couldn't help it because of the oath.
Honor or not, his sword was never weakened. His sword had a distinct characteristic.
Though the man remained silent, the wolf beastman read his mind.
"Tsk."
The beastman clicked his tongue in disapproval and shifted his gaze to the next person.
"Don't overdo it. If you get drunk on omnipotence and fight, you'll die. There are plenty of people in this world who are good at fighting."
"Yes."
He answered, but he wouldn't agree with it. That's the kind of person he was. Even now, his confidence seemed to overflow. The Will he harbored subtly emanated around him. He couldn't even properly control his Will, this guy, tsk.
The last one was the Frog.
It was the same Frog who had once gifted Encrid a kick to the ribs.
"Are you ready?"
With a nod of his head, the wolf beastman asked, and the Frog nodded back.
"Everything's just about done."
He might be at a disadvantage if faced against a Knight, but if it was war rather than a duel, he wouldn't care even if his opponent were a Knight.
Dueling and war are entirely different things.
Completely different.
The wolf beastman understood that difference well.
Thus, he wouldn't discuss strategy or tactics, and that's why he needed Avnair.
Once, he had been called a genius strategist.
Some said he should be killed for being responsible for defeat?
That was what so-called nobles said about Avnair, disliking his background. Their madness was a disease.
Why kill such a talent, those lunatics. The beastman general had outwardly requested his execution but had quietly placed him under his command.
Avnair, after making all the preparations, had secluded himself, claiming he couldn't kill one human. After being beaten several times, he came crawling back out.
Hmph.
The wolf beastman snorted once again.
The snort was so strong that it made one of the curtains covering the window flutter.
"Let's go."
The beastman took the lead, followed by the two humans and one Frog.
As they walked in step with his long strides, the hallway of the Royal Palace, which was wide enough to accommodate five people walking side by side, suddenly seemed narrow.
When they stepped outside, two more adjutants were waiting for him. In the clear sunlight, the two bowed their heads in greeting.
One of the two adjutants, although with certain conditions, could also be considered a Knight.
He had been raised and trained personally by the wolf beastman.
So excluding the Frog, there were four Knights including the beastman.