Chapter 952 - Spitting Image
'They said the Empire trains its knights through an apprenticeship system.'
The South dreamed of cultivating knights through life, death, and primal instinct.
Before that, Count Molsan had attempted to forcibly breach the realm of knights by modifying humans into chimeras.
Enkrid had navigated, experienced, and survived all those methods.
Riding the wave of those experiences, he now saw a new path forward.
It was the process of awakening through intuition and the sixth sense, and then puting it in practice.
Luagarne, a genius scholar, had dragged it out of the realm of ambiguity and firmly established it.
'Forge the vessel.'
It begins with physical conditioning.
Pushing the body to its absolute limits through the Isolation Tehnique. Training the muscles, the nerves, and even the senses.
Following that, the goal is to manifest the single thing one desires most through sheer Will.
During this process, the trainee is deliberately subjected to dangerous and harrowing experiences.
Because human instinct stimulates hidden potential.
They had managed to systematize even the training methodology itself.
The Northern Empire probably awakened Will using a similar method.
It was a sudden thought, but Enkrid felt certain of it.
Well, if it wasn't, then it wasn't.
Regardless, Enkrid recalled the exact moment he first awakened to his Will.
'For me, it was the Will of Refusal.'
Once you grasp one, grasping two becomes possible.
If you can handle the first Will, you can handle the second.
That was the dividing line between a squire and a semi-knight.
And after that?
'To become a true knight, you must be able to use Will unconsciously.'
A knight is someone whose Will flows out as naturally as breathing.
Recognizing and applying Will to everyday, mundane movements.
It is agonizing, exhausting, and grueling, but you repeat it until it works.
Some people might try for their entire lives and never achieve it, but at the very least, the direction of their efforts was set.
'There is a world of difference between an ordinary semi-knight and a semi-knight who constantly tries to incorporate Will into their daily life.'
That alone creates a massive gap in their abilities.
Therefore, this was the correct path.
Is becoming a knight the end of the road?
No.
Becoming a knight isn't the finish line.
Depending on the direction of their subsequent training, the level of a knight diverges drastically.
Wasn't this exactly what Enkrid had experienced firsthand?
Luagarne had categorized and organized that very concept.
'The density of Will.'
The method of achieving Uske.
The training method for Induless.
Like a snake biting its own tail, the core principles from when one first became a knight are repeated.
'Act consciously.'
And train until you can wield it unconsciously and naturally once again.
This was the core of his previous epiphany.
You train and temper every technique ingrained in your body to form a perfect circle, then you shatter that circle you built by thrusting forward a sharpened specialty.
Following that, you use that specialty as the starting point to draw a new circle.
'A cycle.'
In other words, the cycle is a ring.
If you weave this properly and complete one full loop of the cycle, your strength increases exponentially.
'My theory.'
What Enkrid had conceptualized had now been brought into reality.
When discussing the level of a knight, one could simply use how many times they had shattered that ring as the standard.
It is about surpassing the 'you' from yesterday.
Experiencing such a 'today' countless times in order to advance toward 'tomorrow'.
It was a theory that felt like the entirety of Enkrid's life condensed and compressed into a single concept.
"How is it?"
The frog shoved her oily face forward.
Enkrid placed a hand on her forehead.
A frog's oil wasn't a sticky or unpleasant sensation.
Rather, it felt surprisingly moist and clean.
"It's brilliant."
Enkrid hugged the Frog lightly and spoke with absolute sincerity.
At that praise and tribute, Luagarne puffed her cheeks out proudly.
"Yes, that was exactly what I wanted to hear."
If Sinar had seen this, the corners of the fairy's eyes would have shot up so high it would have set a new record.
After parting ways with Luagarne, Enkrid returned to his room and inspected his gear.
He started with the armor crafted from Beelrog hide.
He ran his hands over it, checking for any abnormalities before strapping it on.
The lust for battle surged, and the whispers of the demon craving slaughter and conflict rang clearer than ever before.
It wasn't spoken language, but a visceral urge.
The lingering thoughts of the Beelrog stroked the dormant desires within him.
'No issues here.'
If anything, it felt even more vibrant than before.
He checked the cape as well, finding not a single frayed edge.
It certainly lived up to the value of being crafted from the magical fabric made by the fairies.
'How to wield Will.'
Lately, Enkrid had been researching and practicing how to inject Will into his weapons based on the concept of the Wave.
What he was doing right now—meticulously inspecting his gear—was a deeply ingrained habit from his mercenary days.
'The Empire, huh.'
In his letter, Krang had also mentioned that an envoy from the Empire was arriving.
That would be in roughly a month and a half.
He had expressed his wish for Enkrid to be there when it happened.
'The war with the South.'
It didn't feel like it had been that long ago.
Who had he fought before that?
The Heretics, the bandit groups, the civil war, Aspen.
Now, he had even slain a demon of a Demonic Realm.
He found himself wanting to face a true enemy, rather than just fighting regular people.
He couldn't forget the blonde swordsman, either.
'Why did he go into the Demonic Realm?'
What was he trying to gain there?
For what purpose?
"I will stand on the winning side and reshape the world."
The words that bastard had spoken remained vividly burned into his mind.
If Enkrid moved against the Demonic Realms, that man would undoubtedly make his move.
'I wonder how many rings you've shattered?'
Curiosity raised its head, and a desire akin to the manifestation of a Beelrog surged within him.
Enkrid gathered five Horn-Bugle Daggers, soothing himself as he meticulously polished them.
When the necessary moment arrived, they would meet.
He could ask him then.
Both with words and with his sword.
Until that time came, what he needed to do was obvious.
Prepare day by day, train, and wait.
That was all.
Enkrid strapped the dagger belt over his Battle God leather armor.
[TL here, don't know where this Battle God comes from but that is the correct translation, I've triple checked. Guess that's what Enki decided to call it]
Once he slotted the daggers into place, his basic loadout was complete.
Jaxen's eyes would undoubtedly narrow in disgust seeing him openly wear the Horn-Bugle Daggers like this, but to Enkrid, they were highly useful tools.
Lately, Jaxen hadn't been saying much about it anyway.
"If you're going to announce your attacks with sound anyway, I suppose wearing them openly isn't the worst idea," Jaxen had conceded.
Though Rem had immediately pointed out that wasn't an acknowledgment, but rather sheer resignation.
"Neither a demon nor Beelrog could break that stubbornness. It's a stubbornness that could literally snap Beelrog's tendons. Our Captain is the Knight of Stubbornness."
It was rare, but occasionally Rem, Jaxen, and the others would find themselves in perfect agreement, and that was exactly what was said during one of those moments.
"Agreed," Jaxen had nodded.
Ragna, who had been swinging her sword by himself, stopped and nodded in agreement as well.
"It is a divine punishment bestowed by the Lord," Audin had chimed in.
"Not a gift?"
Enkrid had muttered back.
Wasn't a divine punishment a curse?
In response to their Captain's timid rebellion, everyone maintained an attitude that clearly said,
'Stop spouting nonsense.'
This even included Luagarne.
'Not even Sinar tried to take my side on that one.'
Even the fairy who introduced herself as his fiancée had shaken her head with a look of profound pity in her eyes.
For a fairy—a race that finds it incredibly difficult to express emotion compared to others—to send a look of pity was truly saying something.
"Hmm."
Enkrid let out a quiet chuckle as he finished organizing his gear.
He unhooked Night Stroll from his belt and placed it back in its scabbard, having already returned Penna to the Fairy City.
When he went to return it, several fairies had come out to greet him, but Braum was the only one who actually spoke as their representative.
"Where is Sinar?" Enkrid had asked.
The Woodgard, a massive tree giant, puffed on his pipe and shook his head.
"Not yet. Shall I tell her you said you missed her?"
Bran asked, exhaling a plume of smoke.
"That wasn't the intention behind my question," Enkrid immediately denied.
He was far too terrified of Sinar's potential reaction to dare say such a thing.
The tree giant burst into laughter.
A sound like grinding bark—creeeak, crack—echoed out.
You could say it was a laugh as peculiar as Frog puffing out her cheeks.
"Your reactions are quite entertaining."
Fairies generally enjoyed jokes.
Perhaps it was because they lived such long, tedious lives.
Enkrid slipped on the thin, quilted armor he had received in exchange for Penna, wearing it like a light overcoat.
'You're saying this is better than most steel plate armor?'
It likely was.
It was an armor the Fairy City had put serious effort into crafting.
He reviewed what he knew and inspected his gear.
He repeated this routine endlessly.
He never slacked on his conditioning and training, and in the meantime, he shared the story of how they eradicated the Demonic Realm Silence with everyone.
"Honestly, Captain, I never know what the hell you're going to do every time you leave. That's exactly why the Head of the Rockfreed Merchant Guild had such a massive smile on her face, too."
Krais had mentioned that the workload was going to multiply several times over due to the aftermath of what Enkrid had accomplished.
"Though Edin handles the vast majority of it for me."
While Enkrid was away, Krais and Edin had grown close enough to regularly share drinks.
The other members of the Knight Order simply nodded in awe at the news that he had shut down Silence.
"So, it wasn't a standard Demonic Realm, but a single colonial monster that essentially became a Demonic Realm itself?"
Esther was the only one who asked detailed questions and listened intently to the answers.
The formation of monsters, colonies, and Demonic Realms was naturally a topic of intense curiosity for a mage.
She refused to leave his side, constantly asking about this and that.
"If the Demonic Realm in the West was a monster, it makes me wonder what the true origin of the Southern Demonic Realm is."
The mage, who no longer sought to study spells in absolute isolation but had stepped out into the world to connect with people, now worried about everyone and genuinely wished for the man she followed to achieve his dreams.
"You fully intend to wipe that place off the map eventually, don't you?" she had asked.
Enkrid simply nodded as if it were nothing.
"I will be by your side when you do," Esther declared.
Even then, Enkrid only nodded in response.
It might have sounded like trivial banter to them, but Marco, the soldier standing nearby, blinked rapidly in sheer disbelief.
How can they talk about eradicating a Demonic Realm so casually?
Except for the day he returned, Enkrid hadn't drawn Night Stroll once.
With Penna returned to the fairies, he only wielded a wooden training sword.
Of course, when you reach the level of a knight, a wooden sword is never just a wooden sword.
Because he had surpassed the 'Formatting' stage, if he infused his Will into the blade, the wooden sword itself could cleave through solid rock as if it were a soft potato.
Regardless, the ten days passed in a flash.
On the promised day, Enkrid headed to Aetri's forge.
The weather was exceptionally clear today.
The sky was a brilliant blue without a single cloud in sight.
The air had grown pleasantly warm over the last few days; it was a truly beautiful day.
"Ah, Sir Enkrid."
People passing by recognized him and offered greetings.
It was now rare to find anyone inside Border Guard who didn't recognize Enkrid.
Even newcomers quickly figured out who he was just by observing the reactions of the people around him.
This was followed by the crisp salutes of the guards on duty, and the wide-eyed stares of those who noticed Esther quietly trailing right behind him.
Seeing this, Enkrid tried to dissuade Esther.
"Don't needlessly claw out the people's eyes. It's only natural for their eyes to be drawn to someone with your level of beauty."
"Yes, I am fully aware of that now."
The truths of the world aren't found exclusively within magic spells.
Esther had learned that as well.
"Still, it is only right to occasionally blind the eyes of bastards who stare with lecherous intent."
Yet, she remained entirely stubborn on certain points.
They walked at a leisurely pace.
The weather was perfect, and thanks to the city-wide construction project Krais had spearheaded, the usual foul stench was entirely gone.
Hadn't he mentioned digging canals to create a hidden underground waterway system throughout the city?
On top of that, strict laws were enforced against indiscriminately dumping waste in the streets.
Water facilities had been installed all over the city.
Unlike traditional wells, you only had to turn a handle, and water would flow out continuously.
All of this infrastructure was rapidly spreading to the capital and the surrounding cities as well.
The reason Krais was absent when Enkrid returned this time was to assist those neighboring cities in constructing these exact sewage and water systems.
As they strolled through the remarkably clean city, Esther spoke.
"I thought he would need my assistance, but he refused."
"Aetri did?"
Nod.
Esther was wearing the same short, black-furred coat as before.
She wore tall boots, so not a sliver of her pale skin was exposed.
With her pallid complexion, she looked like a solitary black flower blooming on a stark stem.
It was only natural that she drew every eye in the vicinity.
Regardless, having her accompany him significantly reduced the number of annoyances he had to deal with.
Whenever he usually stepped out into the city, servants from various noble houses would constantly swarm him, desperate to deliver letters.
But right now, not a single person possessed the courage to approach.
He exchanged a quick nod of greeting with Juri, who was selling marmalade on the street, and kept walking.
As for why Aetri refused Esther's help?
There was no need to pry.
He would handle it on his own.
When Enkrid arrived at the forge, an unprecedented silence welcomed him.
There was no sound of hammers striking anvils, nor the grinding of steel against whetstones.
"You've arrived."
Aetri, looking perfectly healthy rather than utterly exhausted like last time, simply greeted him while wearing a thick, heavy-duty leather apron.
"It is finished."
Saying so, Aetri guided him inside.
Enkrid followed without a word.
On the way in, a faintly glowing, pale-green mass caught his eye.
"That was sent from Kiraheis," Aetri explained.
To be precise, it was a gift Sinar had meticulously prepared while undergoing her own training.
Beside it sat a pair of magical metals that Esther had personally cast.
They looked like stones forged from solid black velvet.
"And those were given by the lady accompanying you."
Enkrid simply nodded; he didn't ask why Aetri hadn't used them.
Just as Aetri never debated swordsmanship with him, Enkrid never questioned Aetri on metallurgy.
He merely waited and hoped for the best.
And then, the newly forged Engraved Weapon Aetri had crafted came into view.
The long, elegant blade rested upon a soft cloth.
The blade glowed with a faint, ethereal blue light, while the guard, pommel, and grip appeared utterly unremarkable.
There was no reason to hesitate.
He reached out and picked up the sword.
If Night Stroll felt close to a Demon Sword due to its innate, vicious sharpness, this new sword felt like... absolutely nothing.
This wasn't a critique of its center of gravity or the durability of the blade.
Those were, naturally, flawless.
It was a weapon fully worthy of being called a masterpiece.
However, this was an Engraved Weapon.
From that specific perspective, it lacked any standout characteristics.
"It is 'Today'," Aetri said.
The moment Aetri spoke the name, Enkrid understood the true value of the sword.
His intent flared, and his Will surged.
The Will flowed down Enkrid's arm, through his hand, and settled into the blade.
Vwoooom.
The sword let out a low vibration.
Like a man and a woman meeting for the first time, carefully observing and assessing each other, the sword looked at Enkrid, and Enkrid looked at the sword.
His inner mental landscape opened, and there, as if looking into a mirror, Enkrid saw a man with a deadpan expression who looked like the spitting image of him
***
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