'Right upper arm, left abdomen.'
Enkrid read the aim of the woman presumed to be Ragna's mother. The sword in her right hand struck down, and the one in her left hand thrust. Two blades moved with the same rhythm. Fast, but the rhythm was plain.
Therefore.
'Easy.'
Easy to block or dodge. Ragna chose to dodge rather than draw his sword.
It didn't even look like he lifted his feet, but Ragna's body moved to the side. A Knight's reaction speed easily surpasses common human sense.
Ordinary people would be amazed just seeing Frok's strength, surprised by a beastman's movements, and terrified by a Giant's monstrous power.
But once you became a Knight, there was no more reason to be surprised, nor any need to be.
Now they could use similar strength and perform similar movements.
Just like Ragna now.
Following Ragna's movement, his mother's blade bent at a right angle and followed.
Still easy. One blade thrust and one blade cut. It was monotonous enough to feel dull.
'No, it's not easy after all.'
Whether it was because Enkrid was in a position to give advice or because his insight had grown that much, he vaguely grasped even the intention hidden in the swordplay.
The two blades moved at a constant angle, and that forced several movements on the opponent.
For instance, the sword in her right hand thrust from top to bottom, aiming for the collarbone, while the sword in her left hand cut diagonally outward. It felt like slashing through both abdomen and arm.
If he moved sideways to dodge, he would end up being stabbed by the sword instead.
It was swift and fast twin swords. In terms of speed alone, they wouldn't lose to anyone.
Thanks to that, there was no opportunity to take other actions.
'Moreover, there are no unnecessary movements at all.'
Ragna had two choices there. Draw his sword to block or retreat. Create distance.
'If it were me, I'd grab both wrists.'
Ragna would have the advantage in strength, so he would make use of his advantageous point.
According to Luagarne-style tactical thinking, that would be right.
After grabbing both wrists, he would ram his forehead into the opponent's nose bridge.
The reason for such a choice?
'If he retreats, it's hard to predict what she'll do next.'
The simple choice of just blocking would let the opponent continue their offensive.
That was his judgment, and at the same time, he understood what his mother was doing now.
'Forcing movements.'
If Aker's Web swordsmanship was about entangling the opponent's movements like a spider's web to reduce their options.
That side was about setting the path from the beginning and driving the opponent forward.
It was a similar but subtly different style of swordsmanship.
Ragna mixed and used three choices, including Enkrid's method.
'If possible, you can make multiple choices simultaneously.'
If you could do that, that is. Ragna did just that.
Ragna drew the shortsword he had brought to block one sword, tried to grab the right wrist with his left hand, and raised his right knee, aiming for his mother's chin with his toes.
Ting.
His mother's blade returned to its original position as soon as it met the shortsword Ragna had extended. Because her body retreated backward with a whoosh, Ragna's kick and hand gesture only caught and kicked empty air.
His mother's braided golden hair swayed left and right. It was the violent movement that made everything from her clothes to her hair sway.
"Hmm, son, you've changed a bit?"
Thanks to moving back and forth at high speed, her fluttering apron covered her abdomen and front legs again. In the meantime, he could see the scabbard attached to the outside of her thigh.
'Here, they hold swords even when cooking.'
No matter how he looked at it, what his mother held in her hands didn't look like kitchen knives.
A bit longer than a shortsword and thicker blade too. But for being thick, the blade also looked thin.
It must have been a custom-made sword somewhere between a gladius and a shortsword.
'No, it's an Inscribed weapon.'
He corrected his thought.
Here, they hold Inscribed weapons even when cooking.
"Shouldn't I have changed after not seeing you for so long?"
Ragna showed an aggressiveness he hadn't displayed before. He had an attitude that said it was fine to attack again.
It was a side he hadn't shown before leaving home. Ragna's mother was somewhat moved.
"Yes, I knew you'd come back someday."
"I didn't come back. I came to get the Sunrise."
"Sunrise? Did he agree to give it?"
His mother's head turned slightly toward his father standing behind.
"No."
Ragna's father shook his head.
"You've gained motivation, son. It looks good."
His mother turned her head back and said with a smile.
This house is very positive.
Enkrid thought this while recalling the situation from earlier. It had been a brief exchange, but wasn't it full of interesting things?
Moreover, there was something to learn.
Not all swordsmanship in the world could be divided into Finisher, Sustainer, and Versatile.
In other words, not everything could be distinguished by instinct and calculation alone.
The swordsmanship Ragna's mother had just shown was like that.
'Transition.'
She went back and forth across the line between calculation and instinct. Different from Versatile. Rather than balancing in the center, she tilted left and right like a seesaw and returned.
'With extreme speed here.'
Enkrid had named his swordsmanship Flash, but the actual substance of the swordsmanship was optimization of thought.
It was like reducing the number of dependent variables in just one moment.
He was newly reminded of the swordsmanship Grida had shown. Precisely, it was a calculation-breaking method, but it was also something that couldn't be used in actual combat at all.
To use it in real combat, like when Enkrid himself faced a one-hit killer, he would have to assume perfect defense and do it with minimal movement. But Grida's movements were too big for that.
So it wasn't for actual combat.
In the sparring with Grida at that time, he had been someone who repeated rational combat thinking, and Grida played the role of disrupting that thinking.
So he had decided not to give her room to disrupt his thinking.
'Leaving only limited choices and making the best choice.'
That was Flash.
Just because he defined it this way didn't make it slow, but if we talk purely about the speed of the blade, the swordplay Ragna's mother had just shown was more amazing.
'High-speed thought transition using a fast sword?'
There were probably more hidden techniques than what was visible. He looked forward to that.
That's why he unconsciously repeated gripping and releasing Tri-Iron's handle.
"A belligerent guest."
Seeing this, Ragna's mother said. Just as Enkrid was about to open his mouth, Grida blocked his words.
"Don't do that."
It was a warning.
"...I followed Ragna here."
Enkrid wanted to spar right away, but he heeded Grida's warning.
Magrun intervened and added.
"This is Enkrid from the Border Guard. The Madmen Knights unit—you must have heard the news that the Broker's Village delivered?"
His mother blinked several times and answered.
"Oh, that? The Heart-Breaker?"
Enkrid's heart might have wavered for a moment, but he endured it.
'Why has that nickname reached even here?'
He briefly wondered but soon spat out an ordinary answer with an indifferent attitude.
"Who was it that conveyed the news?"
If he caught that bastard first, he could find the source of the news.
It was probably ninety-nine out of a hundred that it was Shinar.
Now Enkrid also knew how widely Shinar had spread false rumors.
She had widely spread the rumor that what the Border Guard's Madmen Knights captain was best at was breaking women's hearts.
At this rate, even passing children would mention this nickname, and maybe some bard would compose a song about it.
Furthermore, even a mage studying in seclusion in some forest might suddenly know his nickname.
'No, that's going too far.'
It wasn't time to lose his mind.
Looking at the clear eyes watching him, Enkrid continued.
"The rumors are excessive."
"Where there's no fire, there's no smoke, and looking at your face, it doesn't seem to be a lie either, but well, if we listen to all the world's rumors, there were rumors that the family head was a monster with eight arms, so if it's not true, then it's not true. I'm Alexandra Zaun. Welcome to Zaun."
She looked ordinary at first glance, but her extraordinariness had been confirmed just earlier.
"You would have eight arms rather than me."
The family head said from the side, and his wife laughed with a "puff." Despite being a middle-aged woman, she had few wrinkles and looked remarkably youthful.
Since becoming a Knight tends to slow aging.
'She must have reached Knight level at a young age.'
It was unusual. The family head was unreadable, and his wife looked ordinary, but she was equally difficult to read.
"If your level is high, it's natural to hide your intentions."
Hadn't Jaxen also said this?
He also understood the meaning implied in those words.
Outstanding observation skills bordered on the realm of insight, and outstanding insight could do things close to mind reading.
So conversely, those with outstanding insight knew how to hide their own.
Whether through calculation or instinct and senses, this attitude of not letting others easily read their inner thoughts was reflexively acquired.
'Otherwise, the fight between Lawford and Pel wouldn't be established either.'
If one side knew the opponent's intention and the other didn't, victory and defeat would be easily decided, wouldn't it?
Though there are attacks you can't block even if you know about them.
Well, that was the point.
"I was actually preparing a meal because we had a guest coming, and this is quite a coincidence. I didn't expect this, but there's plenty. Let's eat together. First, go wash up."
Zaun was a small castle and had several people to attend to them. He could see several maids and servants standing behind.
They all had such big hearts that they remained calm even after seeing the sudden swordplay.
"I'll guide you."
Grida stepped forward, and the family head's wife, who had introduced herself as Alexandra, nodded.
"Yes, the location is the same."
She had already put away her swords. Her movements were so natural that he missed this too.
She had sheathed her swords during the conversation—should this be called experience?
Not every small gesture could be called extraordinary, but.
'She's definitely unusual.'
The family head looked alternately at Enkrid, Ragna, and Anne and said.
"We'll see each other shortly. Today's meal will be enjoyable. It's been a while since we've had many people."
His tone didn't convey any expectation, let alone enjoyment.
"This way."
Grida nodded to show respect to the family head and his wife and led the group.
"I have somewhere to stop by briefly."
Magrun left midway.
Only after they were far from the family head and his wife did Anne speak.
"I was going to say I came to treat an illness, but he looks really scary. Ragna's father."
"Does he?"
"There's no resemblance either."
At Enkrid's added comment, Ragna nodded.
"They're adoptive parents. It would be strange if we resembled each other."
"Hm?"
This was the first he'd heard of it.
As Enkrid turned his head to react, Grida looked back and chimed in.
"I'm an adopted daughter too. Didn't you know? Well, that bastard isn't the type to talk about such things in detail."
Ragna didn't particularly respond and just looked around. It was home after a long time. Some memories left in the corners of his mind awakened, making him feel nostalgic.
"If I go this way, there was my room—is it still the same?"
Though called a castle, it had a structure no different from a large mansion. A few pillars lined up served as the boundary between outside and inside.
The scale wasn't very large, and the place Ragna pointed to with his finger was a corridor leading to the right.
So it was a path leading indoors.
The left was outside with a small garden.
"There's only the family head's bedroom there. It hasn't changed since the previous generation."
At Grida's words, Ragna tilted his head.
"I was a bit confused."
"Is that 'a bit'?"
Grida said in exasperation, but this much was natural. No matter how much it was the place where he was born and raised in childhood, he had returned after a long time. For Ragna, getting lost would be normal.
"The bathroom is this way. There's no bathing service. Zaun originally has the principle that you must take care of yourself. If you don't perform your duties, nothing is given. Oh, but they'll bring clothes."
Swinging a sword doesn't make bread fall from the sky. This side would also have its own form of maintaining the group.
It seemed like a principle of having only the minimum employees and doing everything else with their own hands.
"It's been a while since I could wash comfortably."
Anne said.
"You'll wash with me."
Grida went to another bathroom separated by a wall with Anne. When Enkrid also went inside, there was a large wooden tub filled with water, and there was also a hearth so that water could be boiled on one side if desired.
Whether there was already boiled water, steam rose from above the hearth, and a large bathtub also caught his eye.
Since Ragna couldn't find his way but didn't have memory problems, he seemed to recall old memories and began the work of mixing hot and cold water by lifting a wooden water bucket.
It wasn't just for himself—seeing him take care of Enkrid's as well made him feel that this was indeed Ragna's home.
It was preparing bathwater with a half-and-half mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity.
"What is the Sunrise?"
Looking at such a Ragna, Enkrid asked. He hadn't been able to wash properly for a long time, so his body reeked.
That's probably why they told them to wash first before the meal.
Ragna answered while putting the water bucket into the bathtub. His voice mixed with the splashing sound.