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Chapter 830 - Chapter 828 - Dragonkin

Chapter 828 - Dragonkin

"Well, he's gone mad again," Rem muttered from behind.

A commander who smiled like that did seem a bit crazy. Of course, Rem was hardly one to talk, but no one present cared about that.

Enkrid's Dawnforged sliced diagonally through the air.

Once again, he stepped into the domain of silence.

His opponent reacted in kind.

The only difference was…

'It's bending.'

In that fleeting moment, the white sword bent and coiled around the blade of Dawnforged.

It was as if a white snake were slithering up the blade.

It wasn't a pliant, flexible sword, so how was that possible?

There was no time for questions.

Thinking would get his wrist lopped off.

Enkrid twisted his wrist.

He poured his strength and Will into the wrist he had trained countless times.

T-t-t-t-tang!

The moment they broke free from the crushing air, the screeching of blades rang in his ears.

Sparks flew fiercely.

It was an upward slope with no proper footing.

The two moved again, stepping on, crushing, and breaking tree roots and chunks of rock on the mountainside.

Enkrid drew his opponent's gaze with a high horizontal slash, then suddenly dropped his sword low.

It was one of Enkrid's orthodox sword techniques, an art of deceiving the starting point of the sword.

The vertically slit yellow eyes were unwavering.

He raised his pure white sword and parried the blow.

CLANG!

As several more blows were exchanged, people began to gather behind Enkrid.

"What is that thing?" Ragna had arrived.

Jaxen arrived and crossed his arms without a word.

Audin spoke with a smile. "We saw several flame monsters on the way, but it's surprisingly quiet here."

"That might be natural." Esther approached from behind Audin.

She had been riding a beast that looked like a black mass, but as she set her feet on the ground, her mount scattered like smoke.

The scattered black smoke transformed into a shawl that draped over her shoulders.

Seeing this alone, she looked like a witch who lived in the demon realm or handled demonic beasts, but no one said a word.

They were more focused on what she had just said.

"What do you mean by that?" Rem asked from atop his tree, his eyes still fixed on the front.

The fight was evenly matched.

Well, there were parts you couldn't know without fighting yourself, so he couldn't be sure.

At a level like this, a single small mistake or psychological pressure could decide the winner and loser.

In that respect, it didn't seem like Enkrid would lose, but one never knew the outcome.

"It is not human, nor dwarf, nor elf."

Shinar, who had arrived next, spoke.

She stared ahead and spoke again.

"Its eyes are like those of a snake, and the aura it gives off is more unique than any other race."

There is a race known by this description.

Elves are the children of flowers and trees, and dwarves are the children of steel and flame.

Giants are the children of hot blood, for they prove themselves through blood and slaughter.

Beastkin are the children of the mountains and fields, for they began hunting to survive.

Frogs are the children of dreams, and humans have the world as their parent, for they can become anything.

And the Dragonkin are called 'those who walk alone,' a race without parents among all the races.

It means they are beings that cannot be easily understood.

"Why is a Dragonkin here?" Audin asked, as if to himself.

Coincidences can pile up in the world.

No one could have known they would meet a Dragonkin on the way.

Of course, the Dragonkin would have a reason for being here, but that was something they couldn't know.

If the gods of heaven were watching over them, would they perhaps know?

Maybe, but in any case, it was unknowable in reality.

After experiencing Fantasia, Esther's senses for feeling magic had become incredibly sharp.

That sensitivity read the traces the Dragonkin had left behind.

'Vibration.'

The magic in the atmosphere was shaking and trembling, and it was being pulled to one side.

In other words, should this be called mana affinity?

It was known as one of the things Dragonkin are born with.

A magician is inherently closer to a researcher.

As a side project, she had experience collecting and reading historical records and data about Dragonkin.

Meanwhile, Enkrid's sword became a flash of light and drew three lines.

A sword strike that drew the shortest path through optimized thought.

One cannot predict lightning, so the Dragonkin also gave up on predicting.

Instead, he leaped backward.

Another acceleration.

Enkrid became a flowing line and rushed toward the retreating opponent.

It was a continuous process of them biting at each other.

Esther had cast a physical acceleration spell to watch the fight, but even so, she couldn't properly see the entire process.

What she saw was Enkrid's Dawnforged striking the Dragonkin's left arm, and at the same time, his white longsword stabbing Enkrid's stomach.

Everything happened in an instant, and the result was far beyond prediction.

Gray scales sprouted on the opponent's arm, blocking the blade of Dawnforged, and Enkrid's stomach was not pierced by the longsword either.

Their gazes crossed.

'Scales?'

'Leather?'

One stared at the scales, and the other's gaze was stolen by the black leather armor.

At the same time, Enkrid extended his leg, and the Dragonkin threw a punch.

CRACK!

With a roar, a gust of wind blew out from between them.

Shinar blocked Esther's path and waved her hand, gathering her energy and scattering the force from their impact.

"A formidable opponent," she said in admiration.

In fact, it wasn't just her; everyone was amazed.

Right now, none of them could underestimate Enkrid's skill.

The mere fact that he was in an even match proved that the Dragonkin standing before him had tremendous combat power.

Of course, for the Dragonkin, who had always stood in a superior position due to his innate powers, this might be an even stranger event, but the Dragonkin showed no emotion.

He just did what he had to do.

"It doesn't work. Really. Halt."

A magic vibration that not only Esther but everyone could feel.

What was contained in his words was will itself.

A power that overwrites and suppresses the opponent's will.

It was a representative power of the Dragonkin.

A general term for the mysterious power that springs from the mouth: Word of Command.

It was similar to the incantations used for magic, but it was on a different level.

A restraining force that an ordinary human would find difficult to refuse.

This is what Esther knew.

And the one human who should have been shaken, his will suppressed, countered the words as if it were nothing.

"I said, reject. Stop being so clingy."

He runs his mouth well.

But why does the Dragonkin talk like that?

Esther felt surprise and curiosity rise within her at the same time.

"You hate clinginess, but since you haven't said anything to me so far, you must already think of me as your fiancée, right?"

Shinar was the same as always.

She had said he was formidable, but not that he was threatening.

If that was her view, then it was the same for the others.

None of them stepped forward.

They didn't have to.

Enkrid's fighting spirit had not been broken once.

No, if anything, it seemed to be growing as he fought.

As he was fiercely pushing forward, his opponent asked, "Are you perhaps a shard of Beelrog? The way you fight is similar."

And the opponent spoke. No, he was asking.

"His way of talking is a mess," Rem said.

For a moment, Rem and everyone else were of one mind. They all had the same thought. Enkrid interpreted the words in real-time and mulled over what his opponent had said. Is he saying that because of the material of the armor I'm wearing? He thought so for a moment, but that wasn't it. Within the Dragonkin's knowledge, he was asking because there was only one being who enjoyed fighting to this extent.

"I think I'm better looking," Enkrid nonchalantly received the words.

Being compared in looks to a creature with two horns and cracked skin was not pleasant, but what did that matter now?

"Let's fight more," Enkrid breathed out the wish.

Naturally, Enkrid didn't have a talent like the Word of Command, so there was no coercive force in his words.

Instead, there was resolve, will, principles, conviction, and a fist.

To be precise, the Dawnforged he had received as an inscribed weapon was gripped in his hand.

His sword sometimes showed a coercive force greater than a Word of Command.

A madman who charges with a smile, and a slender man with blond hair who watches nonchalantly.

Human and Dragonkin cross the weapons they hold.

As Enkrid met his blade and tried to drive him into a bind, the Dragonkin retreated.

Enkrid chased him, accelerating his thoughts.

He also mobilized his five senses and sixth sense to try and read his opponent's means.

All that effort stretched the moment of thought and tightened the present.

In that tightened time, lines and points to subdue the opponent were continuously connected, and one thought separated itself to grasp the opponent.

'It feels numb.'

The sword strikes of the man in front of him, his presence—that's what it was like.

There's a feeling you get from the sword no matter who you fight.

For example, what about Beelrog?

It's strange to say, but he was a man who reminded one of a rock that was hard yet flexibly bent.

Oara was like a flowing wave, and Ragna was a lightning bolt that could break anything, but a lightning bolt that burned and lingered like a flame.

A lightning bolt full of a stubbornness that was not satisfied with just a momentary flash.

Jaxen was an unseen blade, and Audin seemed like a stubbornly rolling rock, but sometimes he would pull out a hidden club from behind the rock.

It meant that on the outside he was a stubborn fighter, but inside, he had many means to win.

Rem acts like a fierce beast while simultaneously showing the aspect of a hunter.

'A contradiction.'

In his stretched thoughts, he recalled the day he drank the founding wine.

It was an excellent drink.

A drink that required contradictory words to express its aroma and taste.

'Two things that cannot coexist.'

Beelrog, a bending rock, was like that.

And all the members of the Madmen Knight Order were similarly acquiring such a thing.

Enkrid's eyes could see these things because his perspective and the way he looked at things had changed.

His opponent was like a numb swamp.

He was also like a black pit.

'It feels like I'm fighting a doll.'

But the substance exists.

It is not an illusion, but reality.

As he read the trajectory of the white longsword, he momentarily saw the next move.

It was a step ahead shown not by experience, but by a flash of inspiration.

Enkrid's Dawnforged dodged the longsword and cut the opponent's left thigh.

T-t-tang!

At the same time, the opponent's sword also grazed over Enkrid's stomach.

T-d-duk.

The sound was unfamiliar.

The sensation in his hand was also.

'It's the same as before. Not skin, but…'

He felt like he had hit something hard.

The loose cloth clothes, an old rag that couldn't be used as armor, were torn, revealing scales similar to a scaler on the man's thigh.

His skin was densely covered with gray scales.

"Are you a monster?" 

There was no answer.

At best, he had only felt a faint texture of emotion from his opponent.

Funnily enough, the texture of the emotion he felt while facing his sword was similar to his own.

'This is fun.'

Enjoyment, expectation, and goodwill.

He was an opponent who showed no malice or killing intent at all.

That didn't mean he thought his opponent would back down.

"You're going to keep blocking, right?"

Amidst the numb feeling from the sword, one will was clearly felt.

The Dragonkin, or whatever it was, had no intention of retreating from here.

Vertically slit yellow pupils.

Now, with a t-d-duk sound, scales sprouted on his face as well.

It was the Dragonkin's second power after the Word of Command: Dragon Scales.

He had become a body that could not be scratched by an ordinary sword strike.

The fight was not over.

However, something else intervened here.

Fwoosh.

The sound was small, but the shadow that covered their heads was large.

A mass of fire?

A cloud?

It looked like something like that.

Suddenly, a fire cloud appeared above their heads.

In that moment, the Dragonkin turned his body completely, showing his back perfectly to the opponent he had been trading blows with just a moment ago.

'What is this now?'

A trap?

No.

From the Valen-style Mercenary Swordsmanship to Enkrid's orthodox sword style, when it came to deception, Enkrid was a master among knights.

Conversely, from what he had faced so far, this Dragonkin, who showed unbelievable monstrous strength despite his skinny frame, was not skilled in deception.

It was a fact he could tell just by exchanging a few sword blows.

Therefore, turning his body now was sincere.

The reason?

The Dragonkin, as soon as he turned, raised his sword.

A fireball flew down at him, and his white longsword, just as Enkrid had done before, cut the fireball and split it.

The fireball, split to the left and right, embedded itself in the ground and exploded.

BOOM!

Broken pieces of stone, tree branches, and clumps of earth that had been fused by the heat scattered in all directions.

Along with that, the heat quickly enveloped the surroundings, making everything visible shimmer and waver like a mirage.

'Hmm?'

Enkrid parried half of the flying debris with his sword and blocked the other half with his gauntlet.

Then he looked forward again.

"I wanted to live too."

He saw a child.

A child he had never seen before, yet the moment he saw him, he was made to realize that he was the one who had failed to protect this child.

The child, cowering in a pit of fire and watching him cautiously, met Enkrid's eyes.

The moment their eyes met, emotions surged and knocked down his reason.

Fact and reality did not matter, and only the current emotion became the truth.

The child's mouth opened again.

"You could have saved me too, right?"

A child who had already died, a child he had failed to protect even though he stood behind him.

Several faces overlapped on top of his.

There had been two little boys who had said they would become herbalists.

He had lost one and protected one.

The child he had lost was looking at him and asking.

"You could have protected me, right? Right?"

There was no resentment in his tone.

It was innocent.

That dug even deeper into his heart and made his emotions surge.

***

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