Chapter 479 - Dawn's Cry
Two giants stood before him.
Enkrid stepped forward.
Scenes flickered through his mind—Jiba, Geonnara, the playful jests of the woman, Hira, Rem, Ayul, and the things the Westerners had shown him. The laughter they shared and the lives they led.
Was it worth protecting? He believed so.
"I'll devour everything!"
A thunderous roar erupted from the mouth of one of the giants.
Enkrid didn't stop his stride, nor did he avert his gaze from the two giants.
Could he perfectly gauge their strength by sight alone? No.
Did he feel like he would lose? Absolutely not. That thought didn't cross his mind.
The Western tribes had labeled these two as monsters—the strongest fighters among the giants.
Among the Westerners, some bore expressions of fear, while others mustered courage, forced or genuine.
Enkrid felt the weight of their gazes on him—their eyes, their worry, reaching his back.
Still, his eyes remained fixed on the giants. They filled his vision completely, obscuring the rest of the Western plains.
"Facing them alone is too dangerous!"
The westerner harboring a hidden affection for Jiba's mother, shouted from behind.
Was it dangerous? Perhaps.
But that didn't matter to him. He simply felt capable.
He wanted to do this.
"One won't be enough!"
One of the giants barked, looking at Enkrid as if he were prey.
Was this what they thought of him, despite his sword and deliberate steps?
They saw no value in his presence—beasts, incapable of seeing beyond their hunger and greed.
Enkrid raised his head, meeting the giant's eyes. All he saw was raw desire, no more than a predator's instinct.
To call them monsters was no exaggeration.
Ting.
He loosened the latch on his sword's sheath with his thumb and drew Aker. The blade shimmered in the calm sunlight.
"Stay out of this."
Enkrid spoke, directing his words at Rem, who followed behind him.
Rem furrowed his brow and responded.
"Must you?"
Why face them alone, he seemed to ask.
"I believe the stronger, more capable fighter should take the lead."
Enkrid's reply wasn't an explanation but a declaration of resolve.
"...Damn it, seriously."
Rem muttered under his breath. It was true, though—for now, Enkrid was ahead of him.
The two giants had reddish skin.
Enkrid found himself curious about the color of their blood.
He continued forward until stopping at a distance where one swing of their club could easily kill him.
Since the battle in Oara, Enkrid had never neglected his training.
He sparred with Rem, sought help from Luagarné, and occasionally dueled with Dunbakel.
It was routine—a cycle of practice and discipline.
From this repetition, something began to bloom within him.
What he learned from Oara, what she left behind, and the fruits of his relentless efforts now coalesced into a single, growing entity.
The buds of this flower began to unfold, petal by petal.
"Only two of you?"
Enkrid raised his sword and asked.
Some found joy in peace.
Others sought to destroy it.
Before him stood such destroyers—threats to the West, its people, and their lives.
Unknowingly, Luagarné gripped the hilt of her Loop Sword.
"What's this?"
Enkrid was the same as always—or maybe not.
He swung his sword in a wide arc toward empty air—or so it seemed.
The blade's edge found the giant's foot, precisely where it was about to land.
The giant had tried to kick Enkrid, but Enkrid had already struck the spot where the movement would end.
It was a feat only possible because he had read the giant's intent and muscle movements.
Whoosh. Schhh!
Aker's blade glided across the giant's foot, slashing deeply.
The giant retaliated by slamming its fist down, but Enkrid dodged with a frog-like step, feinting left before darting right.
Boom!
The fist struck the ground, shaking it violently. Dust billowed, and dirt and rocks scattered in all directions.
"You little pest."
The disparity was clear.
The giants neither trained nor refined their skills. They relied solely on their innate strength.
But they had survived thus far because they were undeniably powerful.
As one giant's heavy fist cratered the ground, a faint line appeared through the rising dust.
Luagarné narrowed her eyes.
The line bent, curving gracefully like a drawn thread.
A Frog's eyes were sharp, and she realized what it was.
Aker. It was Enkrid's sword.
What he wielded now carried traces of Oara's teachings—a seamless, flowing technique born of long, steady breaths.
That line slashed through the giant's arm, shin, and waist.
Splurt!
Blood spurted from the giant's waist, dark and viscous.
Its thick fur offered no protection against Aker's keen edge and the Will wielding it.
Even amidst the dust, Enkrid's presence was unmistakable—marked by two glowing, azure eyes.
The owner of those eyes launched upward, stepping off the giant's foot and knee to propel himself higher.
"Gah!"
The giant roared, swinging its massive hands wildly, dropping its club in the process.
"I'll help you!"
The second giant charged in, swinging its open hand toward Enkrid.
The injured giant clapped its hands together, aiming to crush him.
Clap!
The strike missed entirely, the sound echoing loudly.
The second giant's hand, aiming to assist, smacked its companion square in the chest instead.
"Agh!"
The injured giant howled in pain.
By then, Enkrid had already leapt over its shoulder. While doing so, he drew a gladius and dragged its edge across the giant's back.
Shhhk.
"Aargh!"
Another scream erupted. The giant bled profusely from its waist, legs, arms, and back.
One knee hit the ground as the wounded giant swung its arms aimlessly.
The second giant grabbed its club and struck diagonally at its fallen ally's back.
Whoosh!
The sheer force blew away the dust, but Enkrid had already disappeared.
The club struck nothing but air, and with a dull thud, the fallen giant sprouted a sharp protrusion from the bridge of its nose.
That protrusion was Aker.
Enkrid yanked the sword free, shattering bone as he did. Blood gushed, and the giant collapsed face-first into the ground.
Thud.
One giant fell lifeless, head down.
"Who are you?"
The remaining giant roared.
Was there any point in talking?
No.
Enkrid swung his sword once more.
Luagarné, as a Frog, didn't sweat—but even she felt a chill watching him.
The giant's tongue darted nervously, and its eyes rolled as if searching for an escape.
"A knight?"
No, it wasn't.
Despite rummaging through everything he had seen and heard, this was unlike anything he had encountered before.
"Not a knight."
If he had to describe it, perhaps it was something between a knight and a semi knight. Or to put it another way, the strongest semi knight on the continent. Not quite a knight, but certainly no mere semi knight either. He couldn't wield Will at will, but in critical moments, strikes forged from sheer determination erupted without fail. Just like moments ago.
The step he used to dodge the giant's club was extraordinary. And the speed of his thrust after that was even more so. It was the same type of thrust he had used to slay a ghoul before, leaving the giant unable to even think of dodging. It died on the spot. The remaining giant, terrified, rolled its eyes and spoke.
"I don't even like humans!"
The three giants he'd seen previously had shown intelligence, but this one was different. It rambled nonsensically.
"I won't eat you! I'll leave! I'm leaving now!"
While there were rumors that giants were stupid, if they were truly dim-witted, they wouldn't have survived as a race for so long. This particular giant wasn't representative; it was just exceptionally dull.
Enkrid lowered his arm as he watched the giant with its half-severed wrist. To Luagarne, it looked like he was preparing for a final strike, but to the giant, it appeared as if Enkrid had let his guard down.
"You're trusting me? Thank you! I have treasures—lots of them! I'll give you treasures!"
The giant inched forward hesitantly. Its two steps, though enormous, looked more like a tentative shuffle as it carefully placed its feet on the ground, gauging the situation. Then, suddenly, it swung its club with all its might.
Enkrid moved at the same time. His sword slashed through the air, blending mid-strike with a heavy technique. His foot pushed off, and his body glided forward.
Only Rem fully understood what had happened; it was a level of swordsmanship few could perceive.
His body became a straight line, while his blade drew arcs that could cut through anything.
Crunch.
The sword cleaved through muscle, bone, and nerves alike. The giant's club smashed down onto empty ground with a heavy thud.
"Ghhhkk."
The giant should have collapsed immediately, foam bubbling from its mouth, after being cut so deeply from chest to stomach. Yet its incredible vitality allowed it to stagger back even in its death throes. Enkrid countered with his sword hand, driving a punch into the retreating giant's foot.
Boom! Crunch!
The skin tore, bone shattered, and blood splattered everywhere. The giant fell and moved no more. Silence descended, enveloping the battlefield in eerie calm.
Enkrid casually wiped his blade on the fur of the fallen giant's clothing. The ground was soaked in dark purple blood. Though the clouds above shaded the sun, they weren't enough to block it entirely. As if preordained, the clouds parted, and sunlight poured down—brighter and more radiant than ever.
The clan chief, watching the scene unfold, was on the verge of tears. His clan, the largest in the western region, had been on the brink of annihilation. Despair had come in many forms: an outsider magician, curses, and the giants. While they had dispelled the curse, relief remained elusive because the giants still loomed. But now, they were gone—the very giants who had slaughtered, devoured, and oppressed his people. The warrior who shattered that boulder-like oppression stood bathed in light. He turned briefly, then faced the western lands once more.
"Now I see," he murmured, gazing toward the horizon.
Beyond the beautiful plains, the seamless line of the horizon was breathtaking.
The clan chief wept openly. Suppressing tears wasn't the western way.
"Welcome the great warrior," he proclaimed, his voice thick with emotion. It was the highest praise for the one who had saved his people.
"Welcome the warrior!" someone echoed.
Hira, who had been groggily watching the scene, gaped.
She had been awestruck when she saw him fight the twins, but this—this was something else.
A monster.
His skill and power were beyond belief.
The man Rem had brought had single-handedly vanquished the threat to their tribe.
That simple fact sent shivers through her.
"Aah..." Hira let out a breathless sigh, her body trembling as though in the throes of divine revelation.
Some of the shamans quaked as well, overcome by the moment.
The warriors, who had been the tribe's last line of defense, clenched their fists.
They knew Rem's strength well, and they also knew that even he couldn't have handled two giants alone.
That was why they had donned their armor despite their injuries and brought the totems to the fight. Yet, the man before them had slain the giants without assistance, slicing them apart with ease.
"He's not just a bit better than Rem," murmured Luagarne, astonished. The gap was undeniable, though her words stemmed from ignorance of Rem's current state.
Even Rem shared a similar sentiment.
"I'm feeling the pressure now," he thought. It wasn't that he minded losing to Enkrid, but this was too much. A ritual was necessary.
Enkrid, meanwhile, pressed forward into unfamiliar lands, using his sword as a staff for support. But Rem had no intention of simply standing by. After all, the hero who had slain their enemy and saved the tribe turned back from the horizon and made a simple request.
"Some water to wash up."
The giant's blood clung unpleasantly to him.
"Savior!" someone cried out.
The tribe erupted with cheers, an overwhelming wave of joy and fervor.
The air itself seemed to grow warmer.
"This calls for the Dawn Bird's cry," Geonnara muttered. Of course, the Dawn Bird never cried; as the herald of the sun, it only moved forward. But in this context, the metaphor meant it was a moment of immense, joyous surprise.
Geonnara sat down heavily, his strength spent. Despite his awe, a niggling worry crept in.
"Maybe I shouldn't have asked him for a spar," he thought, beginning to regret his earlier challenge.
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