Chapter 379 - A Long, Endless Training
"Ahhh, so much."
"Andrew, yeah, go ahead and try."
After nineteen repetitions of today, Enkrid had instructed Andrew to thrust his sword at him.
Now, help was needed.
Enkrid proceeded to do just that.
They began training by crossing their blades, clashing the tips together.
"...What a foolish training."
After hearing Andrew's admiration for the thirty-sixth time, Enkrid finally made contact with Andrew's sword tip.
It wasn't still; it was done at a moderate pace, as it should be.
Naturally, it wasn't easy. It was hard. The satisfaction that surged through his entire body when he succeeded was electrifying.
Of course, the thrill or joy didn't last long.
To truly master it, he would need to repeat it countless times.
Still, the enjoyment couldn't be denied.
Ding!
A clear, unfamiliar sound echoed.
"But is this really fun?"
Andrew asked. While their swords met, Enkrid's focus was intense, and energy flowed from his body.
It was fun, exciting, and thrilling, as if a child with a toy playing all day.
It felt like wielding joy itself as a weapon.
That was Andrew's observation.
"Yeah, ahhh, very much."
Enkrid emphasized his answer.
'Why?'
Andrew didn't understand, but to Enkrid, it was natural, just as it always had been.
"Is this really fun?"
"Yeah, so much."
"This?"
"Huh?"
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.
The sound of sword tips meeting again and again.
After hearing Andrew's admiration more than forty times, Enkrid nodded, drenched in sweat.
"Now it's done."
Then he called for Rem.
"Rem, try swinging the axe."
It was a change of opponent.
Rem snorted and laughed before swiftly swinging the axe again.
No margin for error was allowed.
There could be no openings, no chance to let down their guard.
Otherwise, Enkrid wouldn't be able to perfectly dodge Rem's axe. It wasn't about grazing it halfway but completely evading it.
That was the beginning.
After the sword tip training came the axe evasion training with Rem. It wasn't just about dodging—it was about meeting the edge of the axe and the sword.
"Are you fearless, or are you just thoughtless? Get over here and kneel!"
As usual, the officer arrived when Enkrid was deep into his training. Seeing Enkrid immersed in his work, the officer reacted similarly every time, and Enkrid replied without thinking.
"Ah, you're here?"
Now, it felt like a familiar routine. After countless training sessions, it was time for practical combat training.
With the closeness that had developed from repeating today's cycle, Enkrid raised his hand to greet the officer, who turned red, snorting in irritation.
He thought Enkrid was mocking him.
Of course, Enkrid was mocking him.
"You bastard…"
The officer started to say something but was silenced by a kick.
Then Dunbakel showed the difference in strength to the guards.
Squire Ropord along with Ragna and Dunbakel went to hold the wall, and Rem was sent to rescue Marcus while Jaxen met the assassins.
"Thrust…"
Before the words could end, Jaxen moved, responding with a leap to the side.
Stealthily and quietly.
Jaxen used magical artifacts to silence his presence, disappearing without a trace.
Enkrid drew attention first, and then Jaxen took it again, confusing the assassins' heads.
As the assassins felt a greater threat from Jaxen, they began targeting him exclusively.
Watching this repeatedly, it seemed like the assassins had intended to kill Jaxen from the start.
Why?
A sudden question rose.
A few thoughts flashed through Enkrid's mind.
All the ideas passed quickly.
Though suspicion arose from his instincts, it wasn't something to examine right now.
He rode on wierd-eyes, met Aishia, and repeated today once again.
Avoiding Rem's strike completely happened much sooner than expected.
That's if it wasn't the real swing.
It was just ninety-six times.
Now, the concept of basics had truly settled in, so it was possible.
The training with various weapons helped too.
The more experience one gains, the more they learn about the weapons they originally handled.
Of course, Rem snorted every time he saw this.
"That stuff just happens on its own, but your body's quite amazing."
According to him, once the level rises, the body automatically learns, but he didn't have that kind of ability.
Was it like building a stone tower, one rock at a time?
It was an apt metaphor.
Without thoroughly mastering the basics, the body wouldn't internalize them.
For those who fill the lack of talent with effort, what's most needed?
Time.
They were given that time through the curse.
"More amazing than that is how it seems like a person changes overnight."
Even Rem found this person surprising. Clearly lacking talent, reaching their limit, and standing on the edge, yet they walk in midair. Watching them walk like that, a path seems to appear beneath their feet.
Enkrid, who had caught his axe, had advanced further. His skill development was extraordinary.
No genius would change overnight. There would be signs, hints along the way.
"Or was that sign already visible?"
Rem scratched his head, thinking. Enkrid had already had a prepared body, skills, and training time.
So was it that Enkrid had talent that exploded after building it up over time?
"That doesn't make sense."
Having seen so many nonsensical things, he tried to let it go, but it was still amazing every time. But there was no point in questioning it.
"Jaxen."
After he had mostly caught Rem's axe, Enkrid called for Jaxen.
Only Jaxen showed the level of precision similar to the sword of Shinar.
Rem and Ragna weren't lacking in such elements.
They both wield fine, precise swords. Once the level rises, anyone can learn.
But everyone has their strengths.
Jaxen's precision was like that of the fairies, one of his key strengths.
"Try shaking it."
They repeated the training of meeting the sword tips while shaking them.
At times, they fought Aishia.
"You don't have a lover waiting for you, do you? Then go later."
She would always say that and turn away.
"I have something to check."
She would always say that before leaving.
And then it was dark.
Once again, today repeats.
"Damn, what did you do?"
Seeing Rem surprised in the new today.
And Jaxen, whose eyes shone as he watched it, was called in for more training.
Repeating today so often, with so many overlapping events, they counted the number of occurrences like an anchor.
The occasional sculler laughed. Was it the laughter of someone full of expectation?
That's how it sounded and appeared to Enkrid.
He heard it clearly.
The laughter floated along the black river. The lamp's light flickered with the sound of laughter.
It didn't matter if someone mocked him.
It didn't matter who it was, be it a sculler or anyone else.
Since childhood, Enkrid had wielded his sword, ran, rolled, fought, and gotten back up amidst countless mockeries.
Mockery was familiar.
Such mental attacks never meant anything to Enkrid.
Waking up, he repeated today once more. Training, honing.
***
As the tips of their swords nearly collided, this was when Enkrid successfully blocked Aishia's thrust with a blade guard, though not without effort.
"…How?" Aishia was taken aback, her surprise clear.
"I just did it," Enkrid replied, but this wasn't a moment that could be explained away with mere luck.
The thrill of the moment, a rush that ran through his entire body, brought a smile to his face.
Seeing that, Aishia pulled her sword back and said, "Your face is a weapon too."
She stepped back, readying her sword once again.
"Try again."
And so he did. They clashed blades once more.
"Trying to be like Rem? How clumsy."
Aishia said this suddenly, then began shaking her sword.
What was this?
This was a technique Enkrid hadn't seen in their previous sparring. Her blade trembled, and soon, multiple points appeared before him, blocking his vision.
To block them the way Rem would, he'd have to knock each one away individually.
With enough repetition and training, he'd surely get the hang of it.
But that wasn't the path he had chosen. His resolve from the beginning had been different.
'The process is something I must build myself.'
By imitating Rem's methods, he had gained all that he could from them.
"Do you think they appeared so weak just because they broke my techniques?" Aishia's voice carried no bitterness.
Although Enkrid was surprised by her skill in blocking his strike, he realized she was merely copying what Rem had shown. She had likely hidden her own talent until now.
If she hadn't, how could she have honed both her swordsmanship and her physical techniques so well?
Regardless, she was a member of the knights, having risen above the rank of a knight-squire.
Such challenges were not new to her; they were familiar.
"If you thought you were stuck because of that, you'd better rethink it," she said, lowering her blade, causing the multiple points to vanish.
Instead, she began making rhythmic jumps, tapping her feet on the ground. Her orange hair swayed in time with the movement. Clearly, her weapons weren't limited to just her sword.
"Let's go again."
She said, ready to continue.
"Of course," Enkrid nodded.
Their brief exchange ended as silvery sparks and fiery streaks filled the air, blades flashing as they clashed.
Aishia's rapier, glowing blue, thrust and slashed, sometimes bending as it struck from unexpected angles.
Blocking or countering this with no injuries was still a challenge, but now he could continue fighting for as long as the day lasted. There was, however, a clear limit to this time.
The fight would end not when midnight came, but when the sun dipped below the horizon.
Then, the cycle would repeat again.
Having experienced this many times, Enkrid understood this well. Thus, he knew he had to make the most of every given moment.
"Whew, you've gotten so much better all of a sudden," Aishia remarked, catching her breath.
Enkrid laughed and answered, "It's fun."
"You crazy bastard," she chuckled, amused by his response.
Aishia, too, had fought recklessly and risked her life, feeling exhilaration in the process.
"See you again," she said as the sun began to set, signaling the end of the day.
Once more, the cycle was broken.
Having been blocked once again, it was a day that couldn't be surpassed.
As Enkrid opened his eyes once more, he decided to try imitating Jaxen's methods.
"Next," he murmured to himself, as though it were second nature.
"What's next?" Andrew asked as he stretched and loosened his body with the technique of Isolation.
"There's something," Enkrid replied vaguely, then began copying Jaxen's style.
The key to breaking through Jaxen's swordpoint stance, Enkrid realized, was to strike before it even began.
But to do that, what was needed?
"It's all about prediction. You need to sense your opponent's reaction just before the strike."
"How?"
"Feel the tremor in their eyelashes, the tension in the muscles hidden beneath their clothes."
Easy enough to say, but in practice?
"Why do you look for those things?"
"Forget it."
"You looked almost savage just now, didn't you?"
"What are you talking about? You little stray cat, that's not something I want to hear."
Rem interjected, adding, "It was like a look you'd get when mixing rotten fish and eggs."
Jaxen ignored them, speaking directly to Enkrid as a throwing axe whizzed through the air.
With a whoosh, the axe came at him, and Enkrid twisted his sword into position to deflect it. The force and timing were perfect, sending the axe flying in a vertical arc with a resounding clang.
A quick exchange of blows, with skills woven into each strike. Jaxen continued,
"A moment ago, you let out a breath faster than usual. I knew something was coming."
Had he used that breath to predict Enkrid's move?
It seemed that Jaxen's keen instincts, honed through countless experiences, had allowed him to sense that moment.
Enkrid watched the sparring without comment, noting Jaxen's quickness.
Just as he had said, Enkrid realized that beyond just evading, he needed to adjust his instincts, including his ability to predict his opponent's attacks. This was a new level of training for him.
"Damn, this is really fun," Enkrid muttered to himself, his excitement growing.
Jaxen, seeing his enthusiasm, shook his head. To him, Enkrid's joy in endless repetition and intense combat was incomprehensible.
But to Enkrid, this was all part of the process—the repetition of today was just another way to sharpen his skills and grow. Each swing of the sword, each fight, was his way of measuring progress and enjoyment.
After copying Jaxen's technique and even trying out Ragna's method, he began to fight in a completely different manner.
This time, his sword grazed Aishia's neck.
It wasn't a direct strike, but a swift horizontal cut made after blocking her attack with his silver sword and drawing his Gladius. The sound of it ripping through the air was followed by a soft tearing of flesh as a few drops of blood appeared.
Enkrid knew the opportunity was there. If he pressed forward, Aishia would be struck, but he also knew he would have been wounded as well. The choice was clear, but his instincts held him back.
'It landed.'
But he hadn't killed her. He could have, but the moment passed.
With a clash of swords, they swapped places. Aishia now stood where Enkrid had been, and he stood in her place.
Blood dripped from his arm.
"If you see an opening, you take it," Aishia said, as if it were common knowledge.
Enkrid didn't reply.
She put her sword away.
"Let's end it here. I'll check on one more thing, then I'll send you off. I'm sure your reason for being here is meaningless anyway."
Enkrid remained silent, watching her leave.
She walked past him, unguarded and without a sword, as the day ended.
Sitting there, he let time pass by. The day had come to its inevitable end—just like all the days before it.
As he opened his eyes, the purple glow of the lamp appeared.
The boatman spoke.
"That's the wall."
His tone was unexpectedly kind.
"Didn't I tell you it would be fun?"
Enkrid didn't find it fun at all.
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