"Do you know what conditions make an exceptional con artist?"
Krais suddenly asked.
It was something he said when people occasionally gathered around the campfire after work to roast chestnuts or walnuts. In other words, it was just idle chatter with no particular intention or purpose. It could have been said with the intention of running his mouth while letting a chestnut cool on the ground because it was too hot to hold.
"Isn't this the one that works well?"
Rem said, tapping his own head. At the same time, he was cracking walnut shells with the handle of his axe using his other hand.
Thunk, crack.
With just the right amount of force and perfect aim, the walnut didn't bounce away but split open with a crisp sound. At Rem's words, Krais shook his head in an exaggerated manner, and Rem, who found this extremely irritating, threw the axe he was holding.
Of course, Krais didn't die from that axe throw. Enkrid, who was right next to them, caught the axe.
"Thank you for saving my life, Captain."
Krais said calmly, and Enkrid also nodded matter-of-factly in response.
"Yes, that makes it sixteen times I've saved your life. Is that how you treat your life's savior? Can't you peel chestnut shells more carefully?"
"Yes, yes, reporting for duty here."
Krais skillfully handled the knife in his hand and offered a pristine white chestnut without a single thread clinging to it. Shinar wrapped walnuts in flower petals and ate them nearby, while Esther ate a few pine nuts and watched quietly. Rem took his axe back and said:
"That bastard isn't even scared anymore."
Ragna offered advice from the side.
"If you want to kill him, it's better to swing the axe up close."
"...Hey, you crazy bastard, do you think I don't know that?"
Rem exploded in anger but didn't resort to bloodshed. Jaxen quietly arranged chestnuts in neat rows on one side, and Audin chattered about how could they not be grateful when God gave them such delicious things. Enkrid nodded at the sweetness of the chestnuts while continuing to listen to the story Krais had brought up.
"Smart con artists ultimately trust only their own heads and end up getting hit in the back of the head and knocking on heaven's door. They say they get fooled by their own schemes. That's why exceptional con artists don't trust their heads."
Enkrid was chewing and swallowing several chestnuts along with water, so he couldn't answer and just nodded slightly.
"Exceptional ones choose their targets well."
This was the core of what Krais said. Clever and excellent con artists don't choose difficult targets. He then said gamblers' strategies were similar.
"They say the hard part is getting the sucker to sit at the table."
That's right.
It's hard to deceive a smart person, but very easy to deceive a naive one. The difficulty lies in finding that naive person. Enkrid now perfectly understood those words.
"Well, did you predict this too?"
Panito, the man who called Heskal his master and claimed to be his right hand, asked. His tone was like freshly lit kindling. The way he looked, the gestures he made while speaking, the words he spat out between his lips and teeth all had a fire-like heat, but what lay beneath was jealousy.
Of course, even if his opponent breathed fire, Enkrid would dodge and then say 'Ah, so you breathe fire' as if he knew it all along, so he ignored such speech patterns. As Panito spoke, he raised the sword in his right hand high. Whatever he had done, black waves seemed to ripple across the blade.
Kiiiiiii.
The sword let out a cry. It was a sword possessed by an evil spirit. An evil spirit contained in the blade? Then could that also be called a sword with ego? An Ego Sword? Though it would be more accurate to just call it a Demon Sword.
"Of course."
Enkrid nodded. Panito's eyes trembled.
Seeing this, Enkrid continued his chain of thought.
If you infer and piece together the circumstances before and after, putting all coincidences within intention, the answer becomes visible. Scattered, they're beads; threaded together, they become a necklace.
Who gave him the sword possessed by an evil spirit, and what power does it have?
With multifaceted thinking, adding evidence to speculation should yield an answer.
"Are you trusting the sword Dremül gave you? That sword that suppresses Will and restricts bodily freedom with evil spirits?"
By asking this in a way that sounds detailed but is actually vague, he could perfectly deceive his opponent.
He asked this and watched the reaction.
Panito showed clear signs of surprise. His shoulders actually trembled.
The opponent had proudly revealed his sword. He believed he would win with just a graze.
Pel had also had such a sword. What he gained then was the Will of Denial.
Pel's Idol Slayer didn't work easily on Knights or Quasi-Knights who knew how to handle Will. So this would be more threatening than the Idol Slayer and more suited to the current situation.
'Panito is at most Quasi-Knight level, yet he came forward like that.'
He didn't seem particularly frightened either. He had just inferred all these circumstances and spoken based on rough guesswork.
"How?"
Panito opened his mouth in surprise. Rainwater entered his mouth, but he couldn't think to close it.
"Didn't I say it was all according to plan."
As Enkrid spoke, he realized that the man standing before him had spent most of his life within Zaun. He probably had never been conned while wandering the continent or sat at a gambling table. In other words, he was naive.
"Bring out what you've prepared in the back too."
This time it was just a random statement.
"No, how?"
Panito was surprised again.
"According to plan."
By repeating the same words once more, Enkrid achieved a great victory in the psychological warfare with his opponent.
Then, behind Panito, two swordsmen appeared who hadn't been caught even in Enkrid's black and white world. To be precise, they were ones who made you ignore and overlook them even after seeing them until you became aware of their presence—ones who erased their presence.
They wore hooded cloaks, and those cloaks were spell objects that implemented concealment magic.
Though called swordsmen, their eyes were pitch black. They had human forms but weren't intelligent beings. One was large, the other small.
Honestly, he was a bit surprised, but Enkrid had always been quite skilled at deceiving opponents. That was also why he favored the Valen-style Mercenary Sword.
"...Everything according to plan."
Having decided to include even coincidence and misfortune within intention, Enkrid responded consistently and took it one step further.
"I know what happens a thousand steps away from where I sit."
Which is to say, he was just babbling whatever came to mind.
"Ah, so that's why!"
Panito's open mouth grew even wider. A fist could probably fit in it.
"I can even know what will happen tomorrow in advance."
At another bluffed statement:
"That can't be, that's impossible."
This time his eyes grew twice as large as before. He said it was impossible while looking quite ready to believe it.
"I can see it. The future."
At Enkrid's words, Panito's cheeks trembled before he closed his mouth and returned his eyes to their original size.
Even if he was easy to mess with, this guy was also a skilled swordsman. He had the will that wouldn't break easily.
"Still, nothing will change."
Saying this, Panito gestured with his hand. The judgment that there would be no answer if he just kept getting dragged along moved his hand.
Following the hand signal, more than fifty arrows flew in.
He couldn't dodge by just tilting his head. They intended to turn him into a porcupine with arrows from head to toe.
Along with the barrage of arrows, invisible hands appeared in the air, deflecting raindrops. Telekinetic hands formed within arm's reach were about to grab his body.
While Panito lowered his hand, Enkrid was already gone from that spot.
If he had gained an advantage by psychologically attacking his opponent with words, shouldn't he naturally utilize it?
The Luagarne-style Tactical Sword utilizes all the environment spread around.
The first teaching of the Valen-style Mercenary Sword was to deceive even heaven if you could deceive.
"Panito, be careful!"
Enkrid, who had leaped to the side while still keeping his eyes closed, shouted. That shout and momentum were towering.
It was also a shout he let out while dodging flying arrows and telekinetic touches.
Just as the family head Tempest Zaun shaped his intimidation into a great sword, Enkrid did the same.
The momentum he spread became shaped intimidation that pressed down on Panito.
'Straight and square castle walls.'
It was momentum that showed honesty without lies and upright will.
In Panito's view, he could see Enkrid just putting strength into his back foot. It was a posture that suggested a violent charge.
Panito's thoughts accelerated too. Death seemed within reach. The momentum Enkrid showed was that intense.
Within his accelerated thoughts, Panito mobilized everything he had to prepare.
'Block it.'
His armor was enchanted to deflect most attacks. This should withstand several attacks.
Meanwhile, if he stabbed or slashed with the sword he received from Dremül, the evil spirit dwelling in the sword would plant seeds of chaos in the opponent's mind.
Those seeds would make him see illusions and hear false sounds, making him unable to distinguish friend from foe and go berserk.
There were more tricks. The moment the evil spirit tore through his mind, the two swordsmen standing behind would also rush in targeting the opening, so he might not even reach the berserk state.
Actually, the most lethal blades here wouldn't be the evil spirit sword in his hands but the two humanoid golems that had lost their reason.
Flash Golems that previous alchemists had painstakingly created.
'Come on, come.'
Preparations were complete. It was the moment he heightened his resolve and prepared to react.
"...This bastard."
Panito closed his mouth that had been about to curse.
Pabababa-pak!
Fifty arrows embedded in the ground.
The telekinesis lost its target and disappeared, swept away by the wind and rain.
The two golems holding swords prepared to leap out at any moment.
It was when Panito prepared for the attack of Enkrid, the straight and upright swordsman.
Bang!
Enkrid leaped backward. The ground he kicked cracked. He retreated backward—no, charged—with that much tremendous force.
Because it was the movement of a knight handling Reinforcement, it seemed to momentarily disappear from view.
Everyone was deceived.
And having properly fooled that simpleton, Enkrid leaped between the two swordsmen who had been holding their positions in the back.
If they had known, they would have reacted. But this was so perfectly deceptive that even seeing it, they could only curse after blinking once.
It was something that could be called a feat.
Deceive with intimidation, leap backward, and swing the sword with full force. The first attack took off the large swordsman's head.
Thwack!
The sound of the blade cutting through the neck was rough. The hide was that tough.
Also, since he had swung his sword with full force like that, the smaller swordsman should have had time to prepare.
But that bastard Enkrid swung the sword in his right hand while simultaneously throwing the sword in his left hand. The moment the big one's head was cut off, the blade pierced the small swordsman's head, and his legs lifted off the ground as he flew backward and rolled through the mud.
Thud, thwack.
Heskal knew Rynox. His methods, temperament, and even detailed habits.
Though his techniques were strange, he didn't use tricks in combat. Rynox was that kind of person.
But Enkrid was different.
'Deceive.'
Enkrid had grasped the core of the Valen-style Mercenary Sword and utilized it perfectly.
Observe situations with the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword to use the environment, and deceive opponents with techniques mastered in the body through the Valen-style Mercenary Sword.
"You con artist bastard!"
Panito shouted.
This time, Enkrid pretended to pause briefly after taking down the two swordsmen, then charged. Anyone would have thought it was a moment to catch his breath. So this was also an unexpected assault.
Though there were more than ten Scalers with excellent supernatural abilities.
'If you don't keep them in sight, they can't use telekinesis.'
Hadn't he seen those using telekinesis several times already?
"If you've seen that much, you should grasp the weakness."
Wouldn't Frog of the Mad Knight Order say something like this if she saw?
The foundation of the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword is insight. Seeing a step into the future is momentary insight, but what she meant was slightly different.
Maintain blade-sharp observation to recognize tactical situations and change them favorably.
'And bring that out at the necessary moment.'
Deception using environment and situation.
Enkrid had never once exploited the Scalers' weakness until now.
He used that weakness now for just one attack. Sudden stops and accelerations erased Enkrid from the Scalers' sight.
No matter how good a monster's dynamic vision, living eyes are weak to changes in speed.
Enkrid knew this well from direct experience. Hadn't he been caught once by Alexandra with that?
Using speed variation, Enkrid reached right in front of Panito.
"You crazy bastard!"
Surprised Panito swung his sword upward. Since Enkrid was taller and he felt a sword strike coming from above, it was a reflexive action.
Enkrid recognized the identity of the sword Panito held. It was a sword possessed by an evil spirit. He mustn't even graze it. But hadn't he already faced such things countless times? He had already experienced this against the demon called One Killer. This was a degraded version of that demon.
Intuition told him. Even if cut by that blade, he wouldn't die. His coolly rational mind also said:
'That doesn't mean I need to get cut.'
The Tri-Iron falling straight from above struck the black blade rising from below.
This too was tactically intended. Not only did he have the advantage in strength, but he also held the advantageous high ground in movement.
Clang!
When the blades met, a tremendous sound rang out. It was as if a landslide had occurred and boulders were crashing into the ground. The roar pushed away raindrops and swept aside the wind and rain.
That wasn't the end. The clashing blades didn't separate.
A bind. What Enkrid did next was simple. He pushed the blade downward.
Suppose he wore armor and held a good weapon.
Then what about physical strength?
Simply in terms of strength, he had brute force that even Rem would acknowledge.
Will moved and added power. Wasn't the reason Knights who understood Will became asymmetric forces because they displayed strength and athletic ability beyond limits?
Panito possessed good weapons and armor but wasn't exceptionally superior in physical strength.
"Grrk!"
The sword Panito held drove horizontally into his helmet as he struggled desperately to resist. The sword he raised to block became a guillotine for himself. Enkrid pushed it down and struck.
Clang, crack-crash!
The blade possessed by the evil spirit split its owner's helmet. Even among the raindrops, sparks flew clearly. The blade cut through the helmet and created a lid on his head.
Panito's elbow bent in the wrong direction, and broken bone protruded from joint areas not protected by armor.
"You, you."
Our naive Panito endured briefly even with his head split. However, since he had no strength left to lift even a finger, he could only protest with eyes full of nothing but resentment.
Yes, you could tell just from his eyes. It was hard not to know how unjust he felt, with bloody tears streaming down.
"Those killed by Heskal probably felt the same way."
Enkrid only spoke matter-of-factly. Among those Heskal had killed, there were some who had cheerfully spent several days with him.
He got angry even though he'd only known them for a few days.
Even he felt this way. So how would others feel?
And there was someone who was angrier than him but didn't even know why he was angry.
Kaaaak!
The evil spirit trapped in the sword screamed as it shot up to the sky, gathered together, and flew beyond the enemy forces.
Then the light in Panito's eyes dimmed and raindrops entered his eyeballs.
Panito, drawing his last breath with a wheeze, muttered:
"Is this, how it's, supposed to be?"
Though it wasn't clear who he was asking, those were Panito's last words.
What remained was a horde of monsters.
"Don't run away, it's hard to chase after you."
Enkrid's sensitive senses with closed eyes could perceive even telekinesis. So dealing with such guys was very easy.