Chapter 697 - False Alarm
"Medusa and Scalers."
There must be owlbears and bat-type beasts as well.
Hadn't they seen them on the way here?
Were monsters gathering to target Yohan?
"Or perhaps something else?"
The shadow of an artificial intervention loomed thick.
It wasn't visible, yet its presence was undeniably dense.
Monsters wouldn't gather like this unless someone orchestrated it.
The presence of an enemy hidden behind a veil felt overwhelmingly large.
Like the black clouds in the sky, the shroud concealing the enemy was thick and unreachable for now.
"Would it have been easier if I had brought Rem?"
That thought suddenly crossed his mind.
That brat was always blocking the way with sorcery.
From what he'd seen before, Rem had a tendency to immediately pull out his axe and swing it if someone tried using crude sorcery in front of him.
Once, out of curiosity, he had asked why Rem reacted so violently to sorcery.
"Violent reaction? When did I ever? Shouldn't you call it righteous fury instead?"
"I asked why you do it."
"Because it's all so crude."
That was the extent of Rem's explanation—short and to the point, in his usual frustrating manner.
The rest, Enkrid figured out on his own and later confirmed with Rem.
"Does it annoy you when half-baked sorcerers flaunt their tricks in front of you?"
"Yeah, that's right."
What was slightly unsettling was that Enkrid understood Rem's sentiment to some degree.
"Have I been influenced by the mad barbarian's ideology?"
That question had crossed his mind before.
Imagine being a highly skilled chef with strong principles and beliefs about cooking, only for someone to shove a piece of burnt meat in your face and proclaim, "This is true cuisine!"
Unless one was incredibly tolerant, they'd want to smash the person's head in.
And for someone who took their craft seriously, that urge would be even stronger.
"It's an attack on their pride and sense of self."
In words, Rem's actions were akin to shouting, "That's not how you use sorcery!"
"What are you doing?"
A voice cut through his thoughts.
Enkrid was lying down on one side of the training grounds with his eyes closed.
The ground was damp, but spreading out his cloak made it feel somewhat comfortable.
Of course, it would have been better if the sun had dried the earth, but the weather didn't allow for such luxury.
He lazily opened his eyes at the call and saw Grida.
Grida had returned last night after three days away, sought out Enkrid for a discussion, and then retired to her room to wash up and sleep.
Yet she hadn't been able to sleep deeply.
It felt as if the family head could barge in at any moment and demand answers.
"What did you do for three days? What have you learned? My daughter."
And it wouldn't be in a warm tone.
Her father, both as a parent and as the head of the household, never showed his emotions, much like an elf.
Sometimes, he seemed like a man without emotions at all.
What if her father had changed from the man she once knew?
That thought unsettled her.
Not just him—anyone might come knocking, questioning her.
In truth, she half-hoped they would.
She wanted to know which bastard had dared to do this to her family.
To be honest, she had even deliberately left traces while wandering around for three days, hoping for a response.
"But nothing happened."
No one asked her anything.
No one came to challenge her.
That thought lingered as she woke up this morning and found Enkrid lying in the grass as if he were sunbathing—except the sun wasn't even out.
What should she call it then?
Shade-bathing?
Just "bathing in irritation" seemed more fitting.
Grida took a step aside as she felt a presence behind her.
"Is today a rest day?"
The person who had approached from behind asked.
Grida gave a slight nod, and Alexandra acknowledged her with a glance.
"Yes."
Enkrid answered while lying down.
He had learned over time that rest was just as important as training.
Even Yohan followed the same principle.
Yohan had designated at least one day of rest every ten days, ensuring three days of rest per month.
It wasn't just about swinging a sword every day; their ancestors had understood this for generations.
"It's a system refined over many years."
There was much to learn from it.
"Swinging a sword daily is both a form of physical training and a way to clear one's mind."
On rest days, one was meant to deeply reflect on their training.
It was an ancient tradition.
Enkrid, too, understood the importance of rest, so he followed their custom.
Today, there would be no sparring.
That didn't mean he skipped his basic training.
In the early morning, he had reviewed what he learned from Audin and swung his sword.
By the afternoon, he had lain down like this, sorting out his thoughts.
Unlike before, when he had been driven by impatience, Enkrid now understood that he didn't need to push himself relentlessly.
He had reached a level where he could afford to rest.
To the average person, today's routine still looked like training.
Even the Border Guard's standing army might consider it only half a rest day.
But if one belonged to the Madmen Knights, then yes, this was undoubtedly a rest day.
From Enkrid's perspective, he was lazing around at Ragna's level.
"That cloud is really black."
Enkrid pointed at the dark mass in the distance.
"It's called the Black Storm Cloud. This time, it's particularly severe."
Alexandra followed his finger and responded.
A massive black cloud loomed over the sky.
Thick and dark, it did more than just block out the sun—it was like a new layer of black earth had formed above them.
The enormous, ominous cloud was moving steadily in their direction.
"Once it starts raining, it'll turn into a full-blown storm."
Concern tinged Alexandra's voice.
Enkrid slowly sat up and looked at her, then at the stone houses behind her.
"Are they made of stone to withstand storms?"
The structures were a testament to the many years Yohan had spent here.
They showed clear signs of a long-established presence.
"Why?"
A small question arises.
Yohan has strength.
Then, wouldn't it be possible to leave this place and live elsewhere?
For example, in Heskal's case, he used to travel between the three villages around here, taking care of the necessary affairs for the Yohan family.
However, the surrounding terrain was too rough to increase the number of merchant caravans coming and going to the Broker's Village.
Well, this place is quite remote, and rare medicinal herbs and fruits grow in the area, but those could be collected by designated gatherers.
The Broker's Village, simply put, was a gathering place for blacksmiths and merchants.
"But I still like it here."
Heskal always said that, yet he was a man who constantly worried about Yohan's future.
Then, what about Rhinox?
He used to say he was a man who understood romance.
"No food? Then live without it. If you need something, just get it when the time comes."
His opinion was the opposite of Heskal's.
Heskal believed Yohan could further strengthen its power, while Rhinox saw no particular reason for that.
Moreover, in his youth, Rhinox had been utterly obsessed with swords and swordsmanship, living like a madman.
'Now, he's obsessed with training successors, huh.'
Despite that, his eye for talent was awful.
Every year, at least five times, he would grab some random person and say, "You're the greatest talent I've ever seen."
That meant he declared someone a genius roughly once every two months.
'He's like the mercenary from my old village.'
Even I was fooled into picking up a sword after being called a genius.
But Rhinox's words weren't entirely false.
Most of those who managed to survive and endure in Yohan were indeed worthy of being called geniuses.
There were at least five knights here.
'An unexpected force'
Yohan held a similar level of power.
At any rate, some naive kids might still fall for Rhinox's coaxing, but by now, most had learned to brush off his exaggerations.
Yes, he understood romance.
'But he has no interest in reality.'
His dream was to travel the continent with just a single sword.
When I pointed out that he already had six swords, he simply laughed and said, "Then I'll leave five behind."
What was the common factor between them?
'A life dedicated to protecting Yohan.'
Their methods differed, but their goal was the same.
Rhinox remained here, waiting for a genius who could surpass him.
He planned to teach that person everything and then leave.
Until then, he couldn't abandon his post.
Because he still believed he had things to do here.
In truth, Rhinox was an outstanding warrior and an excellent teacher.
With six swords, he wielded six entirely different styles of swordsmanship.
He was the most entertaining sparring partner in terms of sheer enjoyment.
His sword, unconstrained by rigid forms, moved freely in attacks and retreats.
From the framework established by Enkrid—
'A swordsmanship focused on extreme senses.'
The two words that best described his swordsmanship were moment and restraint.
If he reached out, that became his path; if he stepped forward, that became his movement.
He had created over a hundred sword techniques and dismantled over a hundred more.
Every day, he crafted new swordsmanship and shattered old techniques.
That's why he earned the nickname: the Destroyer with Six Hands.
'That's a pretty straightforward nickname.'
From the perspective of categorization, Rhinox was a researcher, someone who delved deep into swordsmanship.
'Categorization and skill are separate matters.'
That was another lesson learned here.
Just from hearing stories, it seemed like the pioneers had the most suitable disposition to become the strongest warriors.
'No matter what one desires, consistent effort in any field will lead to a high level of mastery.'
Heskal was similar.
He was like Grida—a Guardian who protected the family's wealth and people, ensuring prosperity for the next generation.
And regardless of his title as a Guardian, in terms of pure swordsmanship, he was no lesser than Rhinox.
His style was a calm, orthodox one.
But it had no openings.
He aimed for a fight where neither winning nor losing was an option.
"He enjoys hiding his fangs while fighting. A devious guy."
That was Rhinox's evaluation of him.
They were friends and rivals.
Nowadays, they worked separately but occasionally drank wine together, which made it clear they were indeed friends.
You realize these things only after crossing swords and sharing conversations.
Then, what about the head of the household?
'Heavy.'
He was patient, and if he desired something, he was the type who would walk straight into the dragon's maw to get it.
Well, if not, then not, but that was the impression he gave so far.
Then what about Alexandra?
She tried to embrace and accept everyone.
The only difference was that instead of knitting gloves, she did so with a sword.
'Andante has been away for a month on external affairs under the head's orders.'
So many unknown things.
Enkrid dealt with situations in a simple and straightforward manner.
If he didn't know something, he would just ask.
"Alex, why haven't you asked where Grida has been for the past few days?"
Boom!
A bolt of lightning struck once more.
The dark clouds turned midday into night, briefly illuminating the surroundings.
The flash of lightning took a glance at the gathered people and then disappeared.
'This crazy bastard?'
Grida thought that to herself but only sent a look that asked, 'What kind of nonsense are you spouting?'
She barely managed to maintain his expression.
"That's an interesting question."
Alexandra smiled calmly as she replied.
"Is that so?"
Enkrid answered just as calmly, his expression unchanged.
"We respect the freedom of our children. There's no reason to hold onto grown-ups and ask about every little thing they do."
That attitude fit the family's temperament.
If the situation was normal, if nothing had happened, then this was the right approach.
During the conversation, a few swordsmen of the Yohan family peeked over.
Most of them were young.
Though it was a day of rest, they were at an age where they felt restless when not training.
"I've thought up a new technique."
One of them cautiously approached and spoke.
Enkrid replied indifferently.
"Aren't you supposed to rest, kid?"
"They don't listen, no matter how many times we tell them."
Alexandra smiled as she ruffled the child's hair.
"I told you today was a rest day."
"But if everyone else moves ahead while I stay still, I'll just rust. And besides, if I fall sick like this, I won't even get to try anything before collapsing."
A curse and a disease.
Everyone in Yohan knew it wasn't a curse.
They all worked hard to cure the disease.
Even the old healer Mileschia was doing her best.
Yet, Enkrid's daily life remained unchanged.
Rest or training—it was always one or the other.
Days repeating in an endless cycle.
But that wasn't the case for others.
While he was active, the others weren't idle either.
Especially Anne.
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