Chapter 635 - Pushing Through the Darkness
A person sees, thinks, and judges within the limits of their knowledge.
This applied to the wood fairy named Bran as well.
Bran felt threatened.
He believed that this was the greatest crisis they had encountered in the labyrinth.
In contrast, Enkrid was calm.
There was no reason to be terrified or flustered, so he wasn't.
Instead, he simply did what needed to be done—thinking and swinging his sword.
'Death Knight.'
A knight reborn through the power of the cursed magic.
Was this power different from what it had been in life?
In fairy terms, it might have become even more intense.
Had this form come about because the knight had longed for life at the edge of death?
Or had she become this way due to being controlled by the cursed magic, forced to act against her will?
It didn't matter.
What mattered was that the figure blocking their path was a threat.
But was it truly a threat?
Enkrid had observed the soot forming on the fairy's back, the position of her feet, the angle at which she twisted her wrists.
With his sharp intuition, his mind began to race, and insight came flooding in.
By the time the fairy swung his sword, Enkrid had already raised his own in defense.
Thud!
Fel and Luagarne barely managed to catch the exchange between their strikes.
To them, it appeared that the fairy was swinging his sword in a fixed manner.
This was because Enkrid's sword had already blocked it "ahead of time."
It was a moment created by his heightened thoughts and insight.
After one exchange of sword blows, there was more to be seen.
'A sword that maximizes efficiency with restraint, rather than extravagance.'
Enkrid had discerned the nature of the fairy's sword.
'Is she aiming to lock swords? A bind, perhaps?'
It was said that if someone swung their sword thoughtlessly, it meant they had no practical combat experience.
No matter how riddled the brain with holes or infested with maggots, a knight of that caliber would not lack intent in their strikes.
The intention here was to lock swords, to bind them.
But that was not the case either.
After one clash, the fairy retreated.
Enkrid felt that soot-like marks had transferred onto his own sword.
This wasn't something visible to the eyes.
It was something he felt instinctively.
The dead fairy, Arzila, could not use her original magical energy.
Instead, she used the magic power passed down through the curse.
The origin was the same.
Hadn't Esther mentioned something about this?
It was possible to replace spiritual energy with something else.
Of course, the reasons for this change or how it came to be were unknown.
Enkrid accelerated his thinking and immersed himself in the battle.
After the clash, the sword bounced off and flew back at him.
A slender body wielded a heavy greatsword, its blade descending from above, striking downward.
This was a sword wielded with minimal movement, making it difficult to avoid or block due to its angle and speed.
Once again, it was the same.
Instead of aiming to cut, the intention was to induce a clash between weapons.
However, the bind, bringing the swords together for close combat, was not the goal.
The intent was clear, but the meaning within it was unclear.
Then the missing piece of information came from behind.
"Don't clash weapons!"
Bren shouted.
The fairy's voice was precious.
His meaning was that the fairy death knight was transferring the soot through the clash of weapons.
This would bring about a change that favored the dead fairy but would be disadvantageous for Enkrid.
No one could see Enkrid's eyes from behind.
In the darkness, his blue eyes shone brightly.
The will that surged from his subconscious raced through his body.
His thinking speed increased, and he opened a vision of the future.
His senses sharpened to match the thought of seeing just one step ahead.
From there, he let instinct take over.
Recognizing the opponent's weaknesses instinctively was a skill for Fel, but for Enkrid, it was also a technique.
Thus, he analyzed, investigated, and reflected upon it.
It was a process of indulgence.
He tasted, ripped apart, and enjoyed it.
Having sparred with Fel, he had honed and solidified this skill, so now he could steal and apply the fragments of it.
The key was to see through with insight and allow the training to flow naturally into action.
The will that surged from the subconscious, the strength of his will, helped him do that.
Chiririririrring!
Enkrid had made the dead fairy's wish come true.
As his sword met the fairy's, it bounced off six more times in rapid succession.
The curse imbued in the magic sword transferred to the silver sword.
The weight of the sword shifted, but Enkrid's movements and the sword never faltered.
The silver sword was light enough that even doubling its weight was no problem.
After six bounces, the silver sword parted ways with the greatsword.
It then kissed the neck of the knight who had risen from death with a strong, straight line.
That kiss was a shining line that rendered the dead fairy unable to move once again—a gift from the reaper.
From behind Enkrid, the fairy's hand, which had been reaching for the blade, froze.
Drip.
Black blood flowed from the dead fairy's neck, though there had been hardly any blood in her body.
The black blood oozed out in small spurts before stopping.
The headless fairy knight collapsed to her knees with a thud and then fell forward.
The soot on the back of the fallen knight's body slowly faded and disappeared.
There was no sign that the fallen knight would move again.
They watched in silence for a moment, but it did not stir.
"Let's go."
Enkrid, having confirmed that the knight would not move, spoke calmly.
His tone had naturally become more subdued after being around the restrained fairy.
In other words, he did not consider what he had done to be that remarkable.
But for Enkrid, that was the truth.
The being that had attacked them wasn't truly a knight.
It was only a half-baked version.
Hadn't Shinar said it several times?
"There is no such thing as a fairy knight who cannot use spiritual energy. Spiritual energy is the foundation and origin of fairies. It's like trying to write a letter without hands. If one has no hands, they will write with their toes, but it's as if trying to write a letter without hands or feet."
It was a cryptic remark buried within light-hearted humor.
Enkrid had responded back then by saying that he could just write with his mouth.
Shinar had replied that even if Enkrid had no mouth, he'd still find a way to write with his eyelids.
It had been a very serious and far-from-joking conversation.
"How did you do it?"
Zero approached and asked.
Despite being taught to suppress emotions from a young age, the fairy still had emotions.
His question was one of genuine surprise.
"I found an opening."
Enkrid answered in the same way he always did.
It was the clearest response possible.
"Tch."
Fel clicked his tongue.
He had been somewhat watching the exchange of blows.
Seeing the outcome of what Enkrid had done, it seemed similar to his own swordsmanship.
What had Enkrid done?
He had recognized and moved on the opponent's opening without hesitation.
Had he been robbed of his specialty?
Not exactly.
In the Madmen Knights, technical exchanges were natural.
If one simply stops when they feel they've been robbed, it only proves their limit.
Limits exist to be broken.
Fel had learned that by watching Enkrid.
Still, he wasn't without some dissatisfaction.
Hence, the click of his tongue.
'Talent.'
It was something he would never speak out loud, but Fel felt that his own talent was lacking.
Had he known what Enkrid had gone through to reach today, he could never have thought what he was thinking now.
Enkrid answered, but his mind was turning over other thoughts.
'The meaning and implementation method, followed by the training process.'
Countless sparring sessions had allowed him to detect openings that went beyond the five senses.
This could be called a swordsmanship based on the sixth sense.
Anything used to reach the opponent's body was acceptable in his method.
In this, the meaning was 'seeing the openings with the sword.'
The implementation method was...
'Insight and experience.'
The training method that stood out was the repeated sparring.
Fel, without rich experience, had simply used his talent to implement all of this.
'I'm able to do this because I've fought so many battles today.'
Turning the instinctual movements into theory didn't take long.
"What the hell?"
Bren, still in shock, asked.
The two remaining fairies blinked their eyes several times.
Seeing this, Enkrid spoke.
"I don't know what's in your sleeves, but I hope you don't plan on using it against Shinar."
His calm tone hit the core of the matter and cut through.
The fairy named Arcoyris seemed flustered.
Did Enkrid know everything?
Enkrid's blue eyes locked on him.
This naive fairy, who did not understand lies, was met with the sharp intuition and judgment of Enkrid.
"We can't leave Shinar-sama as the devil's bride."
This was something the fairy had repeated several times before, both before entering and upon entering.
This statement carried two meanings.
One was to save Shinar, and...
"Whatever it is, it must be something that can kill Shinar, right?"
Enkrid repeated his words.
The second meaning was that it referred to killing Shinar.
Rather than suffering as a bride of the demon, it was a wish to send her to the side of the gods.
Enkrid had figured it out.
It was clear without needing to think too deeply.
He didn't want to argue about it just because he knew.
Unless they were fairies who had been battered by the world's hardships, they didn't lie.
Even now, Arcoyris, the fairy, was silent.
Choosing silence was a wise move since she couldn't speak a lie, but his gaze, gestures, and posture spoke louder than words, pinpointing the core of the matter.
"It was obvious. Knowing doesn't change anything."
Luagarne spoke.
Whether it was meant to comfort, it seemed that the fairies' perplexed emotions had lightened a bit.
"...Let's rest for a while."
Bran said.
The straight corridor could be stopped anytime if they wished.
They could have entered and left before, too.
Enkrid also sat down with his butt on the floor.
Sitting and staring at the pitch-black darkness that blocked their path, a thought occurred to him.
'It's dangerous, so go back. Wait for the next opportunity.'
It felt as though that darkness was saying that.
The malice was so clear and tangible.
It didn't matter whether they were fighting the magic labyrinth or trying to save someone.
Whatever the purpose was, this passage would eventually shake the hearts of those who entered it.
By giving them the option to return at any time, it made it possible to flee.
For those with broken will, it would be an element that made them run away.
Those who came in sacrificing for something, sensing failure, would leave.
If this were a war and the magic labyrinth and fairy city were assumed to be nations...
'One side devours the other.'
The fairy city had lost its knights, and many had died here.
The magic labyrinth had grown stronger by feeding on their blood and flesh.
If they had put everything into eliminating the labyrinth from the start, it could have been wiped out even with sacrifices.
'Then the demon wouldn't exist either.'
But the fairies had pondered ways to face it without harm.
As time passed and after several failures, the magic labyrinth had become a troublesome existence that was not easily dealt with.
By the time they set out to handle it, it would have been too late.
Relentless malice.
The presence of the demon seemed vaguely clear.
Betrothal, taking a fairy as a bride, was likely a similar task.
The demon wanted to devour the fairy city.
He sought to escape the labyrinth and step into the world.
'The beginning of a large demonic domain.'
If the city were devoured, it would turn out that way.
Elvenheim was the term humans used for fairy cities.
If such a fairy city became a magic labyrinth, what should it be called?
'Fairy's tomb? Elven Grave?'
Enkrid closed his eyes briefly.
He wasn't sleepy, but he had fallen asleep before he knew it.
Whether it was the ferryman's trick or his body naturally resting in preparation for upcoming dangers, he wasn't sure, but the boatman appeared in his dream.
"There's no need for words, but I'll offer advice."
The words came from a being holding a purple lamp on a rocking boat.
"Advice?"
Enkrid tilted his head.
"Throw away the remaining Frog, human, and fairies around you, and run away."
The ferryman chuckled.
His laughter carried a distinct malice that felt strange.
Enkrid didn't respond and opened his eyes.
He thought he had dozed off for a moment, but only a few blinks of his eyes had passed.
He had filled his stomach with jerky.
Of course, the fairies ate vegetables and fruits.
The group moved forward again.
What had Bran and the others felt during that brief rest?
A strange heat emanated from the fairy group.
"Demon Slayer."
"Respect, honored one."
It wasn't just their eyes; their praise for Enkrid came in words.
Even Zero spoke in a tone full of emotion.
"Slay the demon, save our queen."
He almost forgot, but Enkrid now knew Shinar's identity.
Her name was Shinar Kiraheis.
The term Elvenheim, which meant the fairy homeland, was used by humans, and the fairy cities actually had their own names.
Fairies usually named their cities after the family that ruled them.
The city Enkrid had visited was named Kiraheis.
In the fairy cities governed by councils, there were families that were more than just symbolic; they had clear roles.
It was the family of the kings who had ruled the city for generations.
Now, only Shinar remained, and she was the queen of this city.
"It's more surprising that this isn't just a fairy joke."
Enkrid said.
"What?"
Brisa, the fairy, asked again.
"No, nothing."
The fact that she was a queen was enough to be surprising.
There were no more monsters.
The passage gradually widened and transformed into a large space.
There was no longer a path ahead.
Well, there were some openings resembling corridors, but it was more accurate to say there was no need to go further.
They had arrived at their destination, and the target was right in front of them.
"Shinar."
Shinar Kiraheis, the former companion known as the Golden Flower, sat with her hands neatly folded on a chair made of bone.
***
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Many thanks to my friend Tulips for proofreading the chapter :)
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