Chapter 955 - I Am Tense, Terrified, and Thrilled
'Anu.'
The Mercenary King of the East wielded a spear capable of magnifying weight.
The spear named Bull.
In his mental landscape, Anu abruptly launched an attack.
Dust exploded off the dirt floor as the spear tip charged forward exactly like a raging bull.
'His goal is to force me to block.'
If you block it, the crushing weight is transferred.
That was the power contained within Bull, and it was a technique specifically designed to force the opponent to drop their weapon.
Enkrid swung his sword toward the phantom Bull, parrying from the bottom up to casually deflect it.
Clang—
The weapons collided.
Did 'Today' suddenly grow heavier in his hands?
No.
He now fully understood the true nature of the technique Anu employed.
'Transfer, Penetration, Injection.'
He was altering his Will to become immensely heavy and injecting it directly into the opponent's weapon.
'What a nasty bastard.'
Enkrid finally understood one of Anu's sadistic hobbies.
With that level of skill, he could have easily done countless other things.
Yet, he specifically went out of his way to perfect this kind of underhanded technique.
Enkrid swapped out the opponent in front of him.
"I swear and vow to kill you."
It was Cypress, the man who used his Oaths and Vows as both his sword and his armor.
His Engraved Weapon, Resolve, did not emit any light, which made it all the more dangerous.
If Anu was a grandmaster of deception, Cypress was a sheer gambler who thrived on decisive clashes.
He had pushed the 'Formatting' stage one step further, completely trapping the light within the blade itself.
'Should I call this the next stage of Formatting?'
No, this was also an applied technique.
It was exactly like the Wave.
Enkrid applied the Wave to 'Today' in his hand.
He contained the vibration entirely within the blade so it didn't tremble outwardly.
Seeing Cypress do it made it surprisingly easy for him to mimic.
'There is an endless amount of value in learning this.'
Although it was only in his imagination, it didn't deviate far from reality, meaning Cypress's simulated swordsmanship felt entirely genuine.
It was a sword that bent and snapped at impossible angles.
They evaded and parried each other relentlessly, but the moment their blades finally locked, an immense pressure violently shoved against his body.
Enkrid held his breath and circulated his Will throughout his entire body to withstand it.
The daily morning training he did with Audin to solidify his center of gravity—standing on one leg and torturing his core and glutes—had not been in vain.
While Enkrid stubbornly held his ground, Cypress was the one who ultimately stepped back.
'Just because he's a gambler who thrives on decisive clashes doesn't mean he blindly charges forward every single time.'
When it came purely to combat experience, Enkrid was second to neither of them.
He realized the reasons behind Anu and Cypress's actions and completely deciphered their tactics.
In this specific aspect, Enkrid held a definitive advantage over both of them.
His innate tactical intuition and the role his tactical mentor played were massive.
Because when it came to reading the flow of battle and conceptualizing tactics, Luagarne was a Frog with an eye and mind vastly superior to anyone else.
As Cypress retreated, the next opponent materialized.
The silver-haired old knight, Bartolo.
An opponent who scattered silver dust from the hair tied tightly behind his head.
He opened with a spell right from the start.
What exactly was imbued within that spell?
It was meant to disorient the opponent.
It was identical to Fairy Dust.
The dust produced by those tiny fairies forcefully dragged a person's consciousness back to their happiest memory.
Reminiscing about your first kiss with your childhood sweetheart right in the middle of a life-or-death battle was the perfect way to get yourself killed.
'Useless.'
Enkrid had experienced the Demonic Realm Silence.
The fog that blanketed that place induced hallucinations that actively devoured a person's mind in real-time.
Within Silence, he had overcome auditory, visual, and even gustatory hallucinations.
Relying on that grueling experience, he effortlessly pushed the spell away.
'When you cut down his spells, he casts spells that cannot be cut.'
He perfectly understood what the old knight Bartolo's tactics were.
Enkrid overcame them without much difficulty.
Deciphering and surpassing those tactics was the entire goal of this mental imagery training.
He wasn't foolish enough to think they wouldn't fight far more viciously in a real battle, but even this simulation alone provided a staggering amount of knowledge.
'Next.'
He pushed his concentration to its absolute peak.
He erased the present reality, leaving only himself and the enemy.
The phantom opponent stepped forward.
"It is all meaningless. You cannot protect anything, and you will die without achieving a single thing of value. You should have simply stood on this side."
It wasn't a provocation, nor was it an attempt to shake his resolve.
He was simply stating what he genuinely believed as absolute fact.
The blonde swordsman he had met in the spring of his twenty-seventh year extended his sword.
What was the name of his Engraved Weapon?
What was his specialty?
'I know absolutely nothing.'
The simulated enemy instantly transformed into a towering wall.
A massive, endlessly wide wall whose top could not be seen.
The wall morphed back into the swordsman and stepped forward.
It compressed back down into the shape of a single man.
That man opened his mouth and spoke.
"If you wish to die, then I suppose you must die. If you do not wish for that, then simply run away to some mountain and live in hiding."
Receiving this opponent's sword would not be easy.
He knew that before it even began.
He knew because he had already experienced it firsthand.
He knew because his insight screamed it at him.
Cold sweat rolled down the back of his neck, and a suffocating tension gripped his heart.
Would the sword in that hand thrust first?
Or slash?
High?
Low?
Mid-level?
Vertical?
Horizontal?
Diagonal?
He had no idea.
Even mobilizing everything he possessed, it was near impossible to predict.
"If you do not know what the opponent will do, retreat."
That was Luagarne's teaching.
And it was absolutely correct.
But what are you supposed to do in a moment where retreating is not an option?
"This is exactly why life is so entertaining," Enkrid said to his phantom opponent.
"...Entertaining?"
Though he didn't tilt his head, a look of genuine confusion lingered on the blonde swordsman's face.
"Yeah. Entertaining."
The exact moment he answered, the blonde swordsman's sword moved.
It was a thrust. Enkrid received the one-handed thrust, parried it, and smoothly deflected its trajectory.
Following that, he spun his own sword a half-circle above his head, violently knocking the opponent's blade outward while simultaneously angling a counter-slash.
It was a strike aimed high, targeting the area near the opponent's head.
The blonde swordsman deflected 'Today' with his bare hand.
'It was sharper than Night Stroll.'
Yet, even after deflecting the blade barehanded, there wasn't a single scratch on the bastard's hand.
Instead, a brilliant, blinding golden light clung to his skin.
Unfazed, Enkrid immediately pulled his sword back and launched another high horizontal slash.
Whether he had stepped into the realm of total silence or not, the absolute fundamentals of combat remained exactly as he had first learned them.
He moved by measuring the distance and efficiently transferring power.
He was walking a razor-thin tightrope where a single, minute mistake led instantly to death.
It was a rope connecting two sheer cliffs.
And the very moment he thought he had finally crossed it, another endlessly long tightrope stretched out before him.
It was the beginning of an endless tightrope walk.
Ultimately, he fell from the rope.
The blonde swordsman's blade violently gouged into his side.
Because he desperately twisted his body at the very last second to avoid a fatal strike to the heart, taking the hit in his side instead, he didn't die instantly.
"This is utterly foolish."
The blonde swordsman spoke.
From behind the bastard, the Ferryman materialized and echoed him.
"This is utterly foolish."
"That is something I will decide for myself."
Enkrid replied immediately and ripped himself out of his mental landscape.
When he opened his eyes, he was inside a rattling carriage.
The floor was bouncing roughly, but hadn't Leona mentioned they installed shock absorbers, making it significantly more comfortable than before?
She was right.
Part of it was because they were traveling on a well-paved, secure highway, but the rattling was definitely reduced.
It was a carriage pulled by two horses, and like most noble-style carriages with facing seats, it felt quite cramped with four people inside.
"We'll take a break around here," Rem called out from the driver's seat.
There was no real need for a driver, and they could have easily just ridden horses, but a well-paved road and a carriage afforded them some leisure.
They were currently en route to the capital, Naurill.
They were traveling to arrive precisely on the date Krang had specifically requested.
His only companions for the trip were Rem, Krais, and Esther.
"I have no idea who they're sending as an envoy, but I must absolutely see their face."
Those were the uncharacteristically serious words Krais had spoken right before they departed.
"Why, do you think the Empire is going to invest in your Salon?" Enkrid had joked, causing Krais's eyes to go wide in shock.
"How did you know?"
What a remarkably consistent bastard.
Enkrid concluded his mental training and pushed the conversation with Krais to the back of his mind, recalling the old knight who had stayed at Border Guard up until a few days ago.
To be exact, he replayed the conversation he had with the King of Evergart, who had arrived alongside the old knight.
"I was curious to see exactly who the sword wielded by the conqueror of Naurillia was."
Luger Evergart the fourth.
He was far too young to be the king of a nation, and a man who was almost excessively polite.
However, if someone asked if he was an easy man to handle, it would be difficult to nod in agreement.
And if asked if he disliked the man, Enkrid would have shaken his head.
Aside from Krang, this was the first time Enkrid had met someone quite like him.
"The continent has been embroiled in war for far too long. Up until now, I have been solely preoccupied with protecting the interior of my own nation, but it seems His Majesty has entirely different plans."
Had he mentioned he had already met with Krang?
"His Majesty did not refer to you by any other title, Sir Enkrid. He only called you his close friend."
He was exactly as young a king as he appeared.
Which meant he was roughly the same age as Krang.
"In Evergart, it is not just the Guardian Knight, but the King himself who swears a generational oath for the peace and protection of the nation. Thanks to that, our people are able to discuss peace within our borders. A flower garden left standing alone, avoiding the flames of war—that is the true meaning embedded in our nation's name."
He was a man who had been educated and rigorously trained to become a king since childhood.
You could say he was a living tool forged to protect the collective entity known as Evergart.
This wasn't just Enkrid's personal impression; Luger had explicitly stated it himself.
"Everything I am is simply armor and a shield to protect Evergart."
Luger had stayed at Border Guard for several days, drinking wine, spending time with them, and sharing conversations.
Meanwhile, the old knight had sparred with Enkrid, allowing them to gauge each other's strength and share the martial knowledge they had accumulated.
Truthfully, Enkrid found the old knight far more entertaining, but that didn't mean the time spent conversing with the King of Evergart was boring.
'There is something to learn from everything that passes by my side.'
He couldn't remember exactly who had said it, but it was a phrase he had heard back during his days of scraping together silver coins to learn swordsmanship.
Enkrid had learned a great deal while talking with the King.
The way one wields a sword is inextricably linked to the way one lives their life.
The man sitting before him was someone brimming with true courage.
Wasn't stepping forward despite fully understanding the terror the very definition of courage?
"I consider it incredibly fortunate that I was able to reach you before the news of the Empire's envoy arrived," the King had continued, revealing his true intentions.
He spoke with absolute sincerity; not a single drop of deceit tainted his words.
"We wish to become your allies—your brothers in arms. Our goal... is exactly the same."
When the King of Evergart said this, it was the first time he had carefully chosen his words.
He had paused after saying 'goal' before continuing.
Even as the words left his own mouth, he looked surprisingly awkward.
"May I ask why?"
Enkrid had asked, elevating his tone to match the respect the King was showing him.
He didn't ask purely out of curiosity; rather, it looked as if the King was desperately waiting for him to ask.
"I will answer that it is not out of duty, but out of greed. This is the very first time in my entire life that I am throwing a tantrum and being wholly unreasonable."
The drunken King had confessed, and the old knight watching him possessed a gaze as warm and gentle as a grandfather looking at his fully grown grandson.
"Well, you certainly know how to throw a damn good tantrum," Rem, who was drinking with them, had laughed.
"Are you suggesting we start a drunken brawl?" a heavily intoxicated Dunbakel had slurred nonsense.
"A tantrum, huh."
Ragna had aimlessly chewed on the word.
Jaxen had simply nodded in silent agreement, and Audin had added his own thoughts.
"The Lord has said, 'How can one who does not love himself ever truly love others?' It means you must first live for yourself before you can truly live for anyone else."
Scripture is always open to interpretation, but in that specific moment, it was incredibly fitting.
Luger extended his hand, and Enkrid firmly grasped it.
But wait, wasn't this a conversation he should be having in Naurill, not here?
"Have you finished your discussions with Krang?"
Enkrid had asked, and Luger Evergart the fourth had replied.
"No. I told him I would make my final decision after seeing you. And I have just made that decision."
It was a baffling turn of events for Enkrid, but he let it be.
Even to his eyes, the King's words were overflowing with genuine sincerity.
If this turned out to be some insidious, treacherous scheme and he was being fooled, then so be it, but hadn't he also conversed with the old knight through their swords?
These men were entirely sincere.
"I am going to kill the five remaining demons in the Demonic Realms." Enkrid had stated flatly.
"Before that, when you speak to the Empire's envoy, you may freely state that this continent will unite as one to stand against them," Luger Evergart the fourth had finalized.
"Do you truly intend to unify the entire continent?"
Luger had asked Krang exactly this when they met.
He desired an agreement over a war, but if that proved impossible, he would not hesitate to deploy military force.
To outside observers, Krang's relentless march forward certainly looked exactly like that.
Regarding this specific point, Krang had already given Luger his answer.
He had bared his true intentions with refreshing clarity.
"I desire unification. And I also desire the eradication of the Demonic Realms and the complete end of all wars. I am an incredibly greedy man. I am saying that I intend to grasp absolutely everything."
That was Krang's answer.
Luger possessed a spell called the 'Eyes of Truth', which had been passed down through the royal line of Evergart for generations.
If Naurillia had the Sun Tree, Evergart had eyes gifted by a god.
Because of them, he knew Krang's words were the absolute truth.
Regardless, Luger, the King of Evergart, found a profound commonality between Krang and himself during their conversation.
Krang hadn't spoken a single word about the kind of king he wanted to be, nor did he boast of his wealth or honor; he solely discussed one singular goal.
He was a man consumed by a profound sense of duty.
That was how he appeared.
Just like Luger himself, who was born solely to protect Evergart.
Did that mean the King of Naurillia had also been strictly educated and trained in the exact same manner since childhood?
No.
Luger had been utterly shocked by Krang.
His childhood was entirely different from his own, and his perspective on the duty and responsibility Luger had assumed were identical was fundamentally different.
"It is simply something I am capable of doing, and more importantly, it satisfies my heart."
It satisfies my heart?
For what purpose had Luger protected his nation and his people all this time?
Duty.
It had been nothing but suffocating duty.
Yet Krang answered that it was not duty, but his own unyielding desire.
Why was the King of this nation so drastically different from him?
When he asked the old knight Bartolo about it, the old man replied.
"I am perfectly content with how things are now. If the people of our nation are as happy as the 'Flower Garden' moniker suggests, then I am fully satisfied."
Was it a difference in the 'vessel' they possessed?
While Luger had been desperately hanging himself over the fate of a single, small nation, the men named Krang and Enkrid were looking at the entire continent.
Gathering his resolve was easy.
Wasn't his body rigorously trained for exactly that since childhood?
Luger Evergart the fourth had only nodded at Krang, and Krang had told him that if he was curious about the next chapter of his dream, he should go meet Enkrid.
That was why he had sought Enkrid out.
And the man named Enkrid, whom he finally saw with his own eyes, was...
'A Madman.'
A man trying to shatter a mountain armed with nothing but a tiny hammer.
The entities known as demons, the Demonic Realms, the Empire.
What else could you possibly call a man who fully intended to charge at all of them wielding a single sword?
Luger was utterly terrified of all those things.
He was a coward.
That was exactly why he hid behind the borders of his nation and lived securely under Bartolo's protection.
So why... why was his heart pounding so wildly right now?
"How does your heart feel?" Bartolo had asked.
The King opened his mouth.
"I am tense, and terrified."
After a brief pause, he spoke again.
"And I am thrilled."
Not a step taken out of duty, but a step taken toward the life he truly desired.
Luger finally faced the version of himself who desperately wanted that kind of life.
It was a profound internal shift born entirely from encountering Krang and Enkrid.
Of course, it was a shift that had only begun because he had actively kept a close eye on the changing tides of the continent and had taken the initiative to step forward himself.
***
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