Chapter 382 - The Path Ahead
Now that he had a goal, it was simply a matter of striving and striving again until he achieved it.
That was what Enkrid did.
The path was already visible; his hand could almost touch it. All he needed was to elevate everything he had to the next level. Walking the path laid out before him was both his talent and his specialty.
What was required now was precision, detail, and delicacy.
"I've already learned it."
Then all that remained was repetition. For Enkrid, nothing came easier. What he needed was time—a repetition of today. That, too, he pursued relentlessly. Enkrid devoted himself to the present day, and the next, without fail.
"Do you think you can manage that?"
The Ferryman's voice interjected, urging him to learn despair, to embrace defeat. It told him he should tremble in anguish, that it was the natural order.
Such thoughts wormed their way into his mind.
"What if I'm wrong?"
What if this was the wrong path?
It didn't matter. If he climbed this wall only to face another, he would climb that as well. For now, he would walk the path carved by his will. Walls may be conditions, but it was he who set the terms.
He had decided not to kill but to subdue.
If something stood in the way of even that, he would overcome it too.
This was his resolve, but also a straightforward mindset.
The Ferryman, sensing this determination within Enkrid's mental world, would have clicked its tongue in disbelief had it possessed one. But lacking a physical tongue, it merely muttered under its breath.
"That crazy bastard again."
The Ferryman realized that the conditions of the wall had shifted.
The change stemmed from the will of the one cursed, absurd as it seemed. But it wasn't impossible or unprecedented—just exceedingly rare. Typically, when people recognized the conditions of the wall, they sought the easiest path.
Not Enkrid.
"The hard road."
He chose the harsher, more demanding path.
Holding his ground against and overpowering the knight with the orange hair was already a formidable challenge.
Yet Enkrid aimed to achieve it in a short time.
He instinctively knew that merely holding his ground wouldn't suffice to make it through today.
"Madness, but madness with bite."
The Ferryman mumbled again. No reply came. As always, it drifted alone on the river.
Enkrid didn't believe overcoming the wall he faced was impossible.
He had fought Aishia countless times, so her habits had become second nature to him.
Sure, it would be easier if it were a life-or-death battle, but he had chosen this path precisely because he didn't want that.
They say chasing two hares will leave you with none, but what if you could catch both?
"Must I only catch one?"
He had the repetition of today. If so, he would set the conditions to pursue both.
"I won't kill Aishia, and I'll surpass this wall."
He would subdue her swiftly and move forward, finding his place—one that would lead him to Krang.
Enkrid decided to make that his standard.
And what of what came after?
That wasn't his concern.
If the wall before him now turned out to be just another obstacle, he would overcome that too.
It wasn't as though he hadn't faced consecutive walls before.
Yet a strange feeling lingered.
The man appeared only under certain conditions. He didn't seem like a wall directly in Enkrid's way.
Even the fact that Aishia confronted him first reinforced that impression. If it were Enkrid's wall, it would have stood before him.
"Rem."
Thus began another new day—a day he had resolved to push forward.
The moment he woke, Enkrid called for Rem.
"…The sun hasn't even risen yet."
Rem responded groggily, eyes still closed.
"Come out, you barbarian bastard. I'll empty the filth from your skull."
The tone was so calm it could hardly be called a taunt, but Rem still reacted.
The barbarian's eyes opened. Gray pupils pierced Enkrid, cutting through the pale blue light of dawn.
"Fine. It's a good day to carve a tombstone today."
This was a signal of sorts—Enkrid's invitation to a duel with a half-stake of their lives.
Rem accepted it.
"What should we inscribe on it?"
He asked while grabbing his axe.
"The trailblazer who split open a barbarian's skull."
"You really want to die today, huh?"
Rem sounded half-serious.
"Underestimate me, and you'll be the one who dies."
Enkrid warned. Rem didn't know the results of Enkrid's accumulated efforts. He would likely lower his guard.
The same applied to Aishia.
Thus,
"If you can't stop me, Aishia won't either."
As Enkrid stepped outside and assumed his stance, gauging the distance, Andrew emerged, rubbing his eyes. He froze in shock.
Clang!
The sound rang out, cutting through the dawn mist.
Enkrid, wielding his longsword with the precision of his Will, clashed against Rem's axe in mid-swing.
The two froze like a painting, weapons locked, breath mingling in the cold air to form what looked like blue smoke.
Their auras were more menacing than usual, brimming with intensity.
"Dammit, did you have a nice dream?"
Rem asked, still pressing against Enkrid's sword.
"I dreamt the same as always."
Dreaming of death wasn't pleasant, but there had been no wasted days. Each one held value.
Seeing this newfound zeal, Rem finally responded in kind.
"Fine. Let's die together."
Enkrid had already been doing so—dying halfway and learning. He had fought Aishia repeatedly.
He had walked forward, step by step, building upon dozens of such days.
The sparring session with Rem ended at a reasonable point. Enkrid had extracted all he could.
"Sometimes you're so strange it's unsettling."
At last, Rem spoke, his gaze tinged with something resembling wonder.
It wasn't astonishment, but something close.
This sentiment was shared by Ragna and Jaxen. Even Dunbakel had opened her eyes in recognition.
Before her departure, Esther had reacted similarly.
Enkrid wiped sweat from his brow, brushing back his hair.
He was ready.
The repetition of countless identical days had brought him to Aishia's side. He could now reach her even with his eyes closed.
Indeed, with his eyes closed, he confronted yet another shouting drill instructor, knocking them down.
"Dammit! Why are you fighting with your eyes shut?!"
Ignoring their dying cries, Enkrid created an opening in their neck and told the maid to hide. Then, with steady strides, he advanced toward Aishia, nearly running.
"What's behind you?"
Enkrid faced her directly and asked.
"What?"
"I'm asking, who's behind you?"
At Enkrid's question, Aishia furrowed her brows.
"Do you even know what you're saying?"
"I'm asking because I don't know."
"…Then why are you so confident?"
"It's a habit."
"Are you insane?"
"I get called that often."
"Either way, I can't let you go. It would be a pointless death."
"It won't be."
"Prove it."
The conversation felt strangely familiar.
Aishia raised her sword and aimed it at him. Enkrid, with his eyes closed, deflected it.
Clang!
"What the hell?"
"We don't need to do it again, but you'll still doubt me, won't you? Try again."
Aishia frowned but did as he said.
She leveled her sword again. Clang!
Once more, he parried it effortlessly, swinging his sword as if his eyes were open.
When she realized her stance was being ignored entirely, she demanded:
"What are you trying to pull here?"
"Just attack already."
There was no need for more words. Aishia's strengths were evident.
Her specialty? Subtlety.
At first glance, it was hard to discern her skills. She concealed herself well—apt for someone specializing in the Phantom Blade.
She excelled in deceptive thrusts, quick swordplay, and swift footwork, occasionally using fine-tuned pressure to disrupt her opponent's movements.
But her weakness?
Lack of physical strength.
Hence, the method to counter her was simple:
Push her relentlessly with a straight sword, then overpower her with a heavy one.
Clang! Clang!
Enkrid wielded his gladius in one hand, delivering sharp and concise strikes. Aishia blocked repeatedly.
He steadily backed her into a corner, exploiting her weaknesses in every exchange.
"Hey!"
Aishia let out a sharp cry, pivoting her feet and leaping to the side. With a swift kick against the ground, she vaulted off the wall and slashed at him.
Quick movements, a light frame—this was her edge.
But this maneuver wasn't entirely unexpected. Enkrid had pressed her enough times to provoke this response.
As she dashed across the wall, moving parallel to the ground, her actions became clear:
She was shifting the dimensions of the battlefield, breaking free from the straight sword's range and evading the heavy sword's pressure zone.
Her nimble body and extraordinary balance let her run along the wall with ease.
But what if I go beyond her expectations?
Having fought her multiple times, Enkrid knew the limits of Aishia's predictive range.
This knowledge, gained through repeated encounters, gave him the edge.
Time to surpass it.
As she dashed across the wall, Enkrid extended his gladius into her trajectory and released it.
Ping!
The sword clattered to the ground as he surged forward, slipping under her tilted body as she darted along the wall. His movements were low and swift.
Rip!
The carpet beneath him shredded as he lunged. Aishia, unable to pull back her sword in time, reached for the dagger concealed in her chest.
With her left hand, she brandished a blade the length of her palm and thrust it at him.
Her speed was formidable, but Enkrid had anticipated this move.
He bet everything on this exchange.
If successful, he'd subdue her instantly. If not, he'd repeat the encounter—this was their seventh bout.
Time seemed to slow as her dagger's trajectory became clear to him.
Moving as if wading through thick mud, Enkrid crossed his hands and extended them.
Using the Valah martial art of disarming, he clamped Aishia's wrist between his crossed arms, redirecting her strike. He deliberately guided the blade toward his own torso.
The leather outer layer of his armor absorbed the initial impact, but the bandaged under-armor stopped the blade entirely.
Taking advantage of her misstep, he twisted her wrist downward and outward.
Crack!
"Urgh!"
Aishia groaned as her wrist was wrenched painfully.
With his left hand gripping her wrist, Enkrid used his right hand to strike her throat with a quick thrust of his thumb and index finger.
By the time her dagger reached his abdomen, his counterattack was already in motion.
Thwack!
The sound of the strike echoed.
"Gah!"
Aishia let out a second groan, this time from the shock of the impact.
Enkrid stepped forward, hooking her heel with his foot while grabbing her hair. With one swift motion, he slammed her head against a nearby shield decoration.
Crash!
Blood spurted from her nose and face, leaving her a battered mess.
And it wasn't over yet.
He threw her to the ground and, with his weight behind it, drove his elbow into her torso.
Thud!
Crack!
A few ribs gave way under the force. Her internal organs likely suffered damage as well.
Huff.
Only then did Enkrid exhale, rolling to the side as he rose.
Aishia had already passed out, her face unrecognizable.
Still, with healing magic, she'd recover fully.
There was no time to go easy on her.
Enkrid took a brief moment to steady his breathing. If he'd let his guard down for even a second, she would've escaped his grasp.
His response wasn't excessive—it was measured.
After leaving Aishia in a crumpled heap, Enkrid picked up his fallen sword and marched forward, heading deeper inside.
He soon heard a commotion and broke into a run, his heart pounding alongside his rapid footsteps.
The thrill of the Heart of the Beast surged through him, filling him with boldness and calm.
But the anticipation of what lay ahead kept his pulse racing.
Following the noise, he reached a half-destroyed door, where several figures were trying to enter.
One of them turned to face him.
"Do you know where you are?"
The man's sharp gaze locked onto Enkrid.
His skill level? Uncertain.
But the emblem on his armor was unmistakable—a sword and sunburst, the kingdom's symbol.
This was the mark of the Red Cloak Order.
Still, Enkrid didn't stop running.
Instead, he tightened his grip on his sword.
"Is he insane?"
The knight raised his sword, thrusting it forward.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
To get more chapters and support my work head over to my ko-fi!
Ko-fi.com/samowek
Thank you!