Chapter 375 - Aishia
Why is Aishia here?
As soon as Enkrid faced her, several facts came to mind. They were things that popped up without him even having to think hard.
'The constable.'
What was his reason for coming to him?
Jealousy was part of it, but he likely saw it as an opportunity. He thought that Enkrid must have done something wrong.
The crime in question would be the murder of Baron Bentra, but that incident could have been witnessed by Aishia, a knight. If she had intervened, it might not have happened.
But it did.
'Aishia didn't stop it.'
The reason Aishia was here was because of the involvement of the Marquis.
So, whose side is the Marquis of Okto on?
No, has the knight order turned against him?
Could that be possible?
A knight order without knights, and how many junior knights did Aisjia say were left in the capital?
A series of complicated thoughts followed one another, like a tangled thread children had been playing with, getting hopelessly knotted.
Enkrid boldly cut through it. He couldn't behave like Krais. There was no need to.
The one who could answer was standing right in front of him, so he could just ask.
"Why?"
Enkrid spoke, his question short but sharp.
Aisia raised her sword. The slender blade stood at the boundary between light and darkness. She answered.
"They said this is as far as you go. Leave."
There was no emotion in her eyes. It felt like a sword was standing in front of him.
The sounds of clashing metal and shouting from outside grew distant. It felt as though two actors had met on the stage of a corridor.
Enkrid unsheathed his Silver sword.
Ssshh.
The sound of the sword being drawn from its scabbard, wrapped in a metal tip, was eerily clear. The silver longsword revealed itself, showing off its body.
Enkrid grasped the sword hilt with both hands and took a deep breath.
To his left, and to Aishia's right, sunlight filtered through the windows. The light passing through the window created a long line, dividing the space between Enkrid and Aishia.
"Step back."
Aishia spoke again.
It sounded like a request.
"Why?"
He thought as he asked. Naturally, there was no answer. He didn't know enough to figure it out. Aishia didn't seem like the type to give an answer freely.
Without a smile, she just stared.
Aishia showed neither malice nor intent to fight. She simply stood there like an inanimate object.
On one side of the corridor were rare southern ceramics, things you might see only in the southern regions. Aishia's presence seemed no different from those objects. She looked like a still life.
Enkrid adjusted his grip on the sword again.
Seeing this, Aishia spoke.
"Drinking punishment."
"Just a hobby."
Enkrid replied, almost out of habit.
Even at his words, Aishia's expression didn't break. If anything, the atmosphere shifted. It was a pressure. At the same time, her presence seemed to change.
In Enkrid's eyes, it seemed as though a wall had appeared in front of him, centered around Aishia.
The pressure didn't just mean an intent to strike. It was as though she was showing her resolve to not retreat.
A wall as solid as steel.
It was a wall that seemed impossible to get over or break.
However, Enkrid was the type to enjoy either jumping over or digging through such walls.
Ting.
Enkrid swung his sword sideways, measuring the distance to the wall.
The tip of Silver struck the right wall. He retracted the sword, then gripped it with both hands and raised it above his head.
The width was short, but the height was more than sufficient.
If they fought this way, the paintings, southern ceramics, and expensive flower vases on the wall would shatter.
But that wasn't something to be concerned about now.
Enkrid took another breath.
His opponent was reading his breath.
Neither Enkrid nor Aishia made a move to strike first.
They read each other's breaths and measured the timing.
This was something they had done countless times before. They had sparred more than twenty times already.
The line of light between them grew longer.
On the right wall, in the center, three swords crossed each other, hanging.
Above them was a shield in the shape of the sun, an ornate decoration featuring a sword.
Of the three swords, the one in the center was most vertically aligned with the floor, its tip closest to the ground.
As the light stretched, the light that had passed through the window reached the tip of the central sword. Although the blade wasn't raised, the well-polished edge reflected the light.
In that brief instant, when the light glinted, Enkrid struck the ground.
Boom!
He didn't have the luxury of holding back, nor could he.
With all his might, he charged forward explosively, bringing his sword down.
The moment Enkrid closed the distance, Aishia responded.
Her sword shot forward, faster than any arrow, a thrust aimed directly at him.
Enkrid continued with his downward strike. The blades of Aishia and Enkrid's Silver met.
Clang! The clash was followed by a screeching sound!
Enkrid tried to break the wall with his force, while Aisia twisted her wrist to deflect Silver's path.
Her mastery of evasion redirected Enkrid's strength.
Knowing he couldn't simply take it, Enkrid pulled back his foot, conserving some energy. Instead, he let his sword flow with the momentum.
He was ready to add more power and strike again at any moment.
As a result, a long line was drawn beneath the left window.
Even with the lightning-like strike, Aishia deflected it.
Aishia raised her thrusting sword immediately. Then, slowly, she brought it down as she aimed at Enkrid.
Aimed sword.
Her specialty, her signature move.
But it wasn't quite what Enkrid had expected.
Rem had already said it, hadn't he?
"That's not everything."
He knew it instinctively.
No, countless experiences and talent allowed him to see the missing pieces of what the opponent possessed.
Enkrid couldn't see those areas.
So, would that be a problem?
'Not at all.'
The tip of the sword pointed at him. In that instant, only the tip of the sword and himself existed in the world. This was Aishia's style of pointing a sword.
A deceptive sword, a trickster's blade.
Enkrid already knew the answer to overcoming that sword.
He had seen Ragna, Rem, and Jaxen demonstrate their answers many times in front of him.
Rem fought while hiding the tip of the sword with an axe.
Ragna ignored the sword's tip. He eliminated anything that stood in his way with the will to cut through it.
Jaxen struck the sword first before starting to point it at him.
All three methods were correct, but none of them applied to Enkrid himself.
It was something he felt from the moment he began to embrace part of Will.
'It has to be something I solve myself.'
To move forward, he needed to walk properly. He had to step on the path. If he placed his foot in the air, he couldn't walk. Moving forward by stepping in place didn't work either.
To move properly, he had to make the process his own. That was the true path, stepping on the earth, treading through dirt and sand.
If Rem, Ragna, and Jaxen had their own ways, then Enkrid had to find his.
He didn't think it would happen all at once.
He wasn't a genius. He knew that now.
"You're a genius."
The words his mercenary teacher had said when he was young no longer resonated with him.
What remained was the sword. What remained was the dream. What had mended his broken dream?
The sword.
Even when Aishia had left earlier, Enkrid had wished for another hundred duels with her.
Why had Aishia blocked his path? He didn't know.
Was it because she couldn't afford to delay her mission to save Krang? He understood that.
But Enkrid didn't feel any impatience.
If his heart had wavered with each such event, he might not have been able to hold onto the sword all this time.
So, he decided to focus on what he had to do now. No, he had completely immersed himself in the present.
If she blocked his way, he would break through. If she tried to obstruct him, he would destroy it.
In the fleeting moment, Enkrid thought, organized his thoughts, and, after coming to a conclusion, drew his sword of method.
There was something he wanted to try if he fought Aishia again.
His own method.
Enkrid closed his eyes.
If seeing was the problem, what if he didn't look?
"…You're really insane."
From Aishia's now emotionless voice, something resembling emotion slipped through.
He couldn't help but be surprised at this.
He had endured her saying she enjoyed punishing, but this? This was hard to endure.
'You're closing your eyes?'
To fight with his eyes closed? Was this something a normal person would do?
Even when he fought with his eyes open, Aishia always won. Whether he gambled his life or not, the result of their duels was always the same.
But now, he was closing his eyes because the tip of the sword blocked his view?
"You're underestimating me? Or have you trained for this?"
Aishia spat the words out in quick succession.
In her tone, Enkrid felt that she wasn't here because she wanted to be.
If she truly wanted to be here, she would have attacked with her sword, not with words.
Their duels had always been like that.
It didn't matter, though. Enkrid enjoyed the moment. He smiled, excited to face Aishia herself.
Without opening his eyes, he focused his ears, making his hearing replace his sight.
"Skillfully honing your senses allows you to see without seeing."
These were Jaxen's words, spoken countless times.
Indeed, his subordinates exhibited such abilities.
Without even seeing, they could sense the movements of people standing behind them.
Audin had spoken about sensing airwaves.
"It's just knowing with your senses."
Rem had spoken about pure intuition.
Ragna had asked, 'Do you really need to know what action the enemy takes behind you?'
Swing the sword and strike, that's all that was needed. That was Ragna's way.
Jaxen's wasn't any different.
"The airwaves are felt by touch, and sounds are heard by the ears."
Being able to distinguish and grasp subtle sounds was the foundation of sensory techniques.
They were all similar, but their approaches and the ways they understood it were different.
Enkrid had now honed the blade of intuition, the sixth sense of evasion.
Using that, he moved, even with his eyes closed.
To put it simply, he attacked first, even while smiling with his eyes shut.
"You crazy bastard."
Aishia spat out, though there was also some respect hidden in her words.
Enkrid relied on his memory for the first strike.
He remembered where Aishia had positioned herself and heard her voice.
With that, he activated his momentary Will.
Bang!
The ground cracked beneath him. Stone dust flew up from under the carpet.
Enkrid swung his sword with full force. He didn't hold back just because the opponent was someone he knew.
Aishia couldn't allow Enkrid to pass. The reason was simple.
'If you get past me, you'll die.'
Even if she let him go, Enkrid wouldn't survive.
So, she had to stop him here.
Whether he came here willingly, under threat, or out of necessity didn't matter.
'That's for later.'
She calmed herself and faced him with all her strength.
With her eyes closed, she sliced through the moment and closed the distance. Enkrid's sword came down without hesitation.
Aishia met it at the same speed. She didn't ease her pressure.
Her strikes were faster than before, even though they seemed identical.
She held her thin sword horizontally, slashing upwards. She twisted her ankle, dispersing the force. She redirected the power of his sword with her thin rapier, just as she had before. She didn't need to block it—she would twist it in the moment of contact.
That was how Aishia fought.
Her rapier moved like a fluttering piece of cloth.
Tiri-li-li-rin.
The sound of the strike was far too soft for the force it contained. Enkrid's sword was deflected sideways. Aishia loosened her grip momentarily, then tightened it again.
In that instant, the muscles in her forearm tightened, adding strength to her strike. She gathered her remaining power and thrust forward.
Hoo.
It wasn't the sword but the air that hit first. The momentum and pressure made Enkrid's body hairs stand on end.
He couldn't recover his downward sword in time.
Instead, he had already drawn his silver sword with his left hand, while his right hand pulled the sword from his waist.
He blocked the blow with the sword held in reverse.
The gladius intercepted Aishia's rapier.
Bang!
With perfect timing and coordination, the thrust of the rapier was conveyed through the gladius.
Enkrid's feet slid backward as if he had been launched.
'His strength is superior.'
Aishia knew that too. Enkrid's immense strength was terrifying. One failed strike could be devastating.
But failure wouldn't happen. She wouldn't meet him with dull blades.
And with him coming at her with his eyes closed, his precision was lacking.
Enkrid retreated and opened his eyes. Aishia pointed her sword at him again.
She could keep fighting like this all day.
Endurance in constant combat was part of the knight training.
And of course, she had completed that training.
As for Enkrid…
"One more time."
He smiled.
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