'Medusa and Scalers.'
There would be Owlbears too, and bat magical beasts as well. Hadn't he seen them on the way here?
Monsters gathering together to target Zaun?
'Or something else?'
The shadow of someone's artificial intervention was thick. Though invisible, the presence was so dense it felt substantial.
Unless someone intended it, monsters couldn't gather like that.
The presence of the enemy hidden behind the veil felt significantly large. Like the black clouds above the sky, the curtain concealing the enemy was black, thick, and currently beyond reach.
'Would it have been a bit easier if I'd brought Rem?'
Such thoughts occurred to him anew. Didn't sorcery constantly block their path?
From what he'd observed several times before, that Rem bastard had a tendency to immediately pull out his axe and swing it whenever clumsy sorcery was used in front of him.
When he'd once asked out of curiosity why he went into a frenzy whenever he saw sorcery.
"A frenzy? When did I ever? Shouldn't it be called righteous anger?"
"I asked why you do that."
"Because they're all clumsy."
That was the end of Rem's explanation—what a shitty way of speaking, as usual.
He'd been able to figure out the rest through solitary contemplation, so he'd asked Rem again to confirm.
"Does it irritate you when half-learned fools show off their tricks in front of you?"
"Yeah, that's right."
If there was something slightly unpleasant here, it was that Enkrid had come to partially understand Rem's feelings.
'Has the madman barbarian's ideology rubbed off on me?'
Such doubts had also occurred to him.
What if he were an excellent chef with his own philosophy and creed, and someone thrust burnt meat in front of him calling it "cooking" and shouting "This is real cooking!"?
Anyone who wasn't extraordinarily generous would want to crack their skull open.
Especially if they were serious about their work.
'It touches on pride and self-respect.'
To put Rem's actions into words, it was like shouting "That's not how you use sorcery!"
"What are you doing?"
A voice interjected through his thoughts.
Enkrid lay on one side of the training ground with his eyes closed. Though the ground was damp, it had a reasonably soft feel when he laid down his cloak.
Of course, it would have been better if it was ground dried by warm sunshine, but that wasn't something to expect in this weather.
Opening his eyes slightly at the call, he saw Grida.
Grida had finished her three-day excursion last night and came to find Enkrid, and after finishing their conversation, she had gone to her room to wash and sleep.
She couldn't sleep deeply. It felt like the family head might burst through the door at any moment and ask.
"What did you do for three days? What did you find out, daughter?"
Of course, it wouldn't be in an affectionate tone. Her father, the family head, showed emotions as rarely as a fairy.
Sometimes he seemed like someone who had no emotions at all.
What if her father had changed from the person she knew? Anxiety tormented her.
Even if not the family head, it seemed like anyone might come looking for her to demand answers.
Actually, she secretly hoped for it too.
Just what son of a bitch was doing such things to her family.
To be honest, she had even deliberately wandered around for three days leaving traces, hoping the opponent would respond.
'Nothing happens.'
No one asked or demanded answers.
Having such thoughts, when she woke up in the morning, she saw Enkrid lying on one side of the grass field in a sunbathing posture, resting. Since there was no sun, this couldn't be called sunbathing—what should it be called, shadow-bathing? She just felt like cursing.
After asking, Grida immediately moved to one side. It was a reflexive reaction to sensing someone's presence from behind.
"Is today a rest day?"
The person who approached from behind spoke. Grida nodded slightly, and Alexandra also acknowledged her with only her eyes.
"Yes."
Enkrid answered while lying down.
Enkrid did as he had learned through past experience. Rest was as important as training.
Moreover, Zaun was the same.
Zaun designated at least one day out of ten as a sabbath, and thus took mandatory rest for three days out of every month.
They must have known from generation to generation that constantly swinging swords every day wasn't the only solution.
'It's a system established through generations.'
There were quite a few things to observe and learn.
'Daily sword swinging not only trains the body but also eliminates distracting thoughts.'
On rest days, they would deeply contemplate, worry about, and ponder the time they had trained. It seemed right to say they concentrated their distracting thoughts and did it all at once.
It was said to be a very old tradition.
Enkrid also knew the importance of rest, so he took the same sabbath as they did.
In other words, there was no sparring today.
That didn't mean he skipped basic training, so in the early morning he had reviewed what Audin taught him and swung his sword.
Then from around afternoon, he lay down like this to organize the thoughts floating in his head.
Enkrid knew he no longer needed to swing his sword driven by impatience like before. That's why he could do this.
Of course, to ordinary people, he had definitely trained and practiced today too, but anyone at the Border Guard standing army level would consider this half-rest.
Furthermore, if he belonged to the Madmen Knights, this was definitely resting.
From Enkrid's perspective, it would be fair to judge that he had been as lazy as Ragna.
"Those clouds are really black."
Enkrid pointed to the pitch-black clouds visible in the distance and asked.
"They're called storm clouds, and this time they're particularly nasty."
Alexandra turned her gaze following Enkrid's fingertip and answered.
Pitch-black clouds covered the sky. Thick, black clouds.
Beyond blocking the sunlight, it seemed like new black earth had formed overhead.
Those massive, large, black clouds had become a world of their own, slowly approaching this way.
"When it starts raining like that, there'll be quite a commotion with the storm."
Alexandra showed a look of concern. Enkrid raised his body diagonally to look at her and the shape of the house lined up behind her.
'Was the reason for stone houses to prepare for storms?'
It was a structure that clearly showed evidence of taking root and staying in this place for many years. It was proof that Zaun had spent considerable time in this location.
'Why?'
A small question arose.
Zaun had power. Then couldn't they leave this place and live elsewhere?
For instance, in Heskal's case, he traveled between three villages formed in the vicinity to handle the Zaun family's necessary affairs, but he said they couldn't increase the merchant groups traveling to and from the intermediary village because the surrounding terrain was too rough.
Well, this place was close to the wilderness, so precious herbs and fruits grew around here, but he also said that could be handled by employing separate gatherers.
The intermediary village was simply put, a village where blacksmiths, merchants, and such gathered.
"Still, I like it here."
Heskal was a man who said this while constantly worrying about Zaun's future.
Then what about Rynox?
He often called himself a man who understood romance.
"No food? If there's nothing, we can live with nothing. If we need something, we can get it when the time comes."
His opinion was opposite to Heskal's. Heskal believed Zaun's power could be increased further, while Rynox was on the side that saw no particular need for that.
Also, Rynox had lived like a madman in his youth, completely absorbed in swords and swordsmanship.
'Now he's obsessed with nurturing disciples, or so they say.'
Yet his eye for talent was terrible, so he would grab just anyone and say "You're the greatest talent I've ever seen" at least five times a year.
That meant he praised someone as a genius about once every two months.
'He's similar to the mercenary from the village where I lived.'
He too had been deceived into believing he was such a genius and picked up a sword.
But Rynox's words couldn't exactly be called lies either. Most of those who endured and survived within Zaun deserved to be called geniuses.
They had at least five knights here alone.
'The Madmen Knights are considered an unexpected force?'
Zaun here possessed similar strength.
Anyway, while some ignorant kids might occasionally fall for Rynox's coaxing, they said everyone now knew his exaggerations and just brushed them off appropriately.
Yes, he understood romance.
'Instead, he has no interest in reality.'
His dream was to tour the continent with a single sword.
When asked, "For such a thing, don't you already have six swords, not one?" he laughed heartily and answered, "Then I'll leave five behind."
What did the two have in common?
'A life protecting Zaun.'
Though their methods differed, their goal was the same.
Rynox's reason for remaining here was to wait for a genius who would surpass him.
Teaching that person everything he had and then leaving, or so he said. Without doing so, he couldn't leave his post.
He believed there was still work for him to do here.
Indeed, Rynox was both an excellent skilled fighter and a wonderful teacher.
He used completely different forms of swordsmanship with his six swords. In terms of fun, he was the most entertaining sparring partner.
His sword, which deviated from the concept of jeongjoong-hwan-kwaei-yu, showed the nature of freely striking and withdrawing.
Within the framework of the large system Enkrid had created.
'Swordsmanship focused on extreme sensation.'
Moment and restraint—those would be the two words describing his swordsmanship.
When he extended his hand, that became the path, and when he stepped forward, that became his step.
He had developed over a hundred sword techniques and destroyed over a hundred sword techniques.
He created swordsmanship every day and broke techniques every day.
The nickname he earned was the Destroyer with Six Hands, or something like that.
'What an intuitive nickname.'
From the categories Grida mentioned, Rynox was a delver, a researcher of swordsmanship.
'Classification and skill are separate matters.'
He learned this here too.
When just listening to stories, it seemed like having a pioneer's temperament was suitable for becoming the most outstanding skilled fighter.
'Whatever each person desires, wherever they are, if they work diligently, their level is high.'
Heskal was similar. He was like Grida. Called a Guardian, he protected the family's wealth and people while maintaining and passing on the family's prosperity to the next generation.
And whether Guardian or whatever, looking only at swordsmanship, he wasn't inferior to Rynox.
His swordsmanship was the calm, orthodox style.
However, there were no openings. It seemed like he aimed for fights where neither losing nor winning existed.
"He enjoys fighting while hiding his fangs. That's why he's like that. Sinister bastard."
That was Rynox's assessment.
They were said to be both friends and rivals.
Seeing that they now worked in their respective positions and occasionally drank wine together, they were definitely friends.
These were things felt through crossing swords and conversing.
Then what about the family head?
'Weighty.'
He had strong patience and would probably enter a dragon's mouth for what he wanted.
Well, maybe not, but that was the impression he'd received so far.
Then what about Alexandra?
She tried to embrace and accept everyone. The only difference was that her method wasn't knitting gloves but using swords.
'Andante has been away on external business for a month, supposedly on the family head's orders.'
There were plenty of unknowns. Enkrid dealt with the situation simply and clearly. If he didn't know something, he could just ask.
"Alex, why don't you ask what Grida was doing during the few days she was away?"
Rumble—dry lightning struck once more.
Thanks to the black storm clouds, even broad daylight was dark as night, but the surroundings brightened briefly.
The light from the lightning observed the group gathered here and departed again.
This crazy bastard? Grida thought inwardly, but outwardly only sent a look asking what kind of nonsense he was suddenly spouting.
She barely managed to succeed in controlling her expression.
"That's an interesting question."
Alexandra answered with a calm smile.
"Is that so?"
Enkrid answered calmly. There was no change in his expression.
"We respect the children's freedom. There's no need to hold down grown kids and ask what they did one by one."
The family's temperament was indeed like that. If the situation were ordinary, if nothing had happened, this would be right.
During the conversation, several of the Zaun family's swordsmen lingered around the area. They were mostly on the younger side.
Should he say they were at an age where their bodies itched even when told to rest because it was the sabbath?
"I came up with a new technique."
One of them approached stealthily and said this. Enkrid answered calmly.
"Weren't we supposed to rest on the sabbath?"
"Even when told to do so, they really don't listen."
Alexandra laughed as she ruffled that child's hair.
"I said today was a rest day."
"But everyone's getting ahead while only I'm getting rusty. And if I get sick like this, I might collapse without being able to try anything."
A curse and also a disease.
Everyone staying in Zaun knew it wasn't a curse.
They all tried to cure that disease too. The old female healer named Mileschia was the same.
Still, Enkrid's daily life remained unchanged. Whether resting or training, it was the same. A continuation of identical days.
But others were different.
While he was active, others weren't just playing around either.
Especially Anne.