Chapter 39 - The Flag Flutters and Soldiers Dance with Swords (2)
"Eyes, feet, hands."
Ragna said.
"Start with your eyes, move with your feet, and finish with your hands. The sword."
Following those words, Enkrid did just that.
By seeing with his eyes, he predicted his opponent's movements, moved with his feet to adjust his position, and let the sword finish the attack.
Hmph.
In the next battle, Enkrid put that into practice himself.
Instead of merely dodging by sight, he predicted and dodged, so his opponent's strike missed its mark and Enkrid's own attack landed.
The sword's thrust was merely a confirmation of the attack's success.
Thud!
The sword pierced through the opponent's throat.
With a swift motion, Enkrid pulled the sword out, and blood poured out as muscles, nerves, and blood vessels were severed.
Immediately after killing the opponent, Enkrid rolled to the ground and struck the shin of another soldier with his pommel.
Crack!
Since he wasn't wearing any additional protection, the bone was bound to break.
"Ugh!"
The man fell, squirming.
Enkrid pulled out a quarrel from his side and thrust it into the soldier's heart.
The armor caused the arrow to sink only halfway in.
As he stood, Enkrid pressed it down with his foot.
Thud— the sound echoed as the quarrel lodged completely in.
Enkrid lifted the dead soldier with one hand and tilted him to the side.
Thunk— bolts got embedded in the corpse.
But Enkrid made a small mistake here.
A bolt grazed his thigh with a flick.
If his mobility decreased, it would be harder to fight amidst the enemy.
Still, he pushed on as far as he could.
Thirty-two.
He had killed two more in one day, despite a mistake in between.
'Eyes, feet, hands.'
Predicting with his eyes, moving with his feet, and finishing with his hands— it seemed like it would be good to practice this in real combat a few more times.
Enkrid continued, and through today's repetition, he had more or less figured out the enemy's movements.
'They defend the flag.'
They circled one side.
If he charged straight ahead one day, he would rush to the left the next.
He had never broken the flag, but he had come dangerously close.
Enkrid felt thirst.
He felt something was missing.
'Can I not do this alone?'
If that were the case, he could bring along Rem or Ragna, but a sense of stubbornness arose in him.
He had learned proper swordsmanship, had honed it.
He wanted to take a step further.
It wasn't impatience, but the thought that it was time to move forward kept repeating in his mind.
'I'll try.'
If this was driven by stubbornness, he could reconsider later.
Enkrid had the opportunity to keep going, thanks to today's repetition.
"Who are you?"
After several battles, Enkrid came face-to-face with an enemy squad leader.
It was a face he didn't recognize.
The man had a rat-like beard.
"What do you think?"
Enkrid chuckled and answered.
Facing death, there was no room for fear.
The rat-like bastard of the Aspen Duchy swallowed his saliva and thrust his spear.
"You're a troublesome one."
After dying and waking up, it was time for training again.
"Complete recovery and fast recovery."
Once the concepts of eyes, feet, and hands became familiar, Ragna moved on to the next step.
What had started as getting used to the basics had somehow evolved into understanding the history and concepts of swordsmanship.
"Luckily, the squad leader and I share the same teachings."
It was obvious—Ragna had taught him.
"I followed the techniques of one of the best instructors. I must have been really lucky."
Enkrid spoke words that didn't seem quite right, but Ragna had no reason not to believe him.
Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense.
It was understandable that his skills had improved in a day.
He had trained the basics on his own but hadn't known how to apply them, so this could happen.
Of course, this was a very unusual case, but if you didn't care about it, it was no big deal.
The basics of the northern-style longsword had settled in his body, just like moving forward in a concept.
What good would it do to analyze it?
The squad leader had never questioned his past.
Therefore, he had to do the same.
"Do you know? Complete recovery and fast recovery."
At Ragna's words, Enkrid nodded.
Complete recovery and fast recovery.
The concepts of proper sword, heavy sword, swinging sword, fast sword, and soft sword.
To explain it further...
A perfect, precise sword.
A heavy, forceful sword.
A mesmerizing, swinging sword.
A fast, quicker sword.
A soft, flowing sword.
Five hundred years ago, a peerless genius was born.
He was from a small farm, and he was truly a genius among geniuses.
This genius killed a band of marauders who had attacked his farm with nothing but a wooden stick when he was just nine years old.
At just nine years old, he killed twelve adult bandits, armed with swords.
"This is swordsmanship."
The nine-year-old child was precocious.
It was said that he had lost his parents when he was young.
Seeing the bandits wielding swords, the boy realized the principles of swordsmanship.
Later, a nobleman who heard of the boy killing twelve bandits with a wooden stick went to find him.
He adopted the boy as his own.
Thus, the boy took the family name Oniac.
Leonesis Oniac.
The genius gained his name in this way.
Leonesis had the talent bestowed by the heavens, but he also had the misfortune of an unfortunate body.
When he was around ten years old, he contracted a disease that caused his limbs to lose strength.
It was an incurable disease that no mage, doctor, or healer on the continent could treat.
By the time he was twelve, his entire body was paralyzed.
Despite his illness, the Oniac family did not abandon Leonesis.
The unfortunate genius was almost forgotten.
But when Leonesis turned twenty, he left his mark on the continent's swordsmanship history, paralyzed.
He compiled all the sword styles of his time into five categories, creating a new school of swordsmanship.
That was the foundation of complete recovery and fast recovery.
Proper sword, heavy sword, swinging sword, fast sword, and soft sword.
Despite being unable to move his body, he reshaped the history of swordsmanship.
This is also how Oniac became the most powerful family in the empire.
The swordsmanship school Leonesis founded was passed down through generations and became the standard.
Today, it is divided into five styles: the northern-style longsword, the central-style proper sword and soft sword, the western-style fast sword, the southern-style swinging sword, and the eastern-style technique sword.
The continent was divided into five parts, and the development of weapon skills differed in each region.
"To use the northern-style longsword, I have developed a technique. It will be more useful than the beast's guts or whatever."
It was yet another sunny and windy day.
On this day, Enkrid learned a new technique from Ragna.
Rem had taught him the heart of a beast.
Jaxen had taught him how to listen.
And Ragna taught him the importance of focus.
"The principle is simple. Forget everything around you and focus on the opponent with your eyes, focusing solely on what you're doing. Don't let anything else enter your vision."
The explanation was all over the place.
"The basics of the longsword are grounded in the fundamentals. It's the sword that breaks even when blocked, the sword that cannot be avoided even when known, and the sword that pours all its power into a single strike. That's what it is. Focus and do it."
If you could do it with focus, what would happen to those who couldn't?
"I'll teach you a bit of the trick."
With those words, Ragna's sword became a beam of light.
Even after switching to a different sword, it hadn't even fully become familiar in his hands, yet the blade was invisible.
The arm, which whipped like a whip, couldn't even be seen. It was just a flash, and something passed by Enkrid's neck.
The blade brushed against the nape of the neck.
It was so fast that the realization came only after the neck was cut.
The back of the neck became warm.
Blood trickled down.
"Are you bullying the captain, you bastard?"
Rem appeared out of nowhere and glared.
Enkrid placed his hand on his neck.
'I almost died.'
It was that dangerous of a strike.
The invisible speed had sliced through the skin.
"They say that in the moment of death, humans become dozens of times more focused. I'm just helping."
"You crazy bastard, what use is learning that kind of skill after you're dead? You must not know the squad leader. Learning the Heart of the beast took a really, really long time. Huh?"
Why emphasize the strange part?
Isn't 'really, really' too long?
Before Enkrid could respond, Ragna snorted.
"It's because the teacher was bad."
"Huh? What did you say? You want me to stick an axe in your head?"
Rem raised one hand and placed it behind his ear as he spoke.
"I'm not an ignorant barbarian. My training methods are rational."
Rational, huh?
Enkrid pondered the meaning of the word.
Both Rem and Ragna were the same to him.
"But aren't you from an extreme northern ethnic group, basically a barbarian?"
Ragna's skin was pale, and his eyes were red—characteristics of northern peoples.
"Don't lump us with the western barbarians. It's unpleasant. Very unpleasant."
"…Fine, just die then. After you're dead, I'll personally go to the north and bury you."
It seemed like another argument was brewing, but Enkrid intervened.
"You know what I'm going to say, right?"
Even as he interrupted, Ragna cast a glance beyond Enkrid.
"I know the squad leader is as slow as a northern ox, but I didn't know he had this much basic skill."
"What's this? Stop dodging and answer me. I'll stick an axe in your head."
"You crazy barbarian bastard."
The northern ox minimizes its movements to withstand the cold.
It's a metaphor used for describing slow humans.
Enkrid had been called slow countless times, but there was nothing unfair about it.
"You're supposed to teach me the trick."
Enkrid held Ragna back with words and turned his head toward Rem.
No words were needed.
A simple look was enough.
Rem huffed, and when he noticed Enkrid staring at him, he snorted and shouted.
"We were told to gather!"
Then he turned around and strode toward the barracks.
"We should go back."
Seeing that, Ragna spoke.
As he tried to retrieve his sword, Enkrid grabbed his wrist.
"What about the trick?"
The thirst for learning was what moved Enkrid.
And now, wasn't he in a position to be taught something new?
A single point of focus.
Concentrate, it was a technique that Ragna had improved from an ancient method.
Enkrid felt a surge of desire.
"It won't be easy."
The basics weren't easy.
Adjusting your posture, learning new steps, abandoning what you had, and relearning how to strike and thrust.
None of it was easy.
Even so, it was enjoyable.
A joy followed.
The pleasure of growing each day filled his entire being.
He had dreamed of becoming a knight, but perhaps it was just because he loved the sword that he had come this far.
When he held the sword and swung it, Enkrid was so lost in the joy that he forgot everything else.
As he held Ragna's wrist, Ragna spoke flatly.
"You'll have to face death. When you think you're going to die, your nerves will become razor-sharp. You have to repeatedly experience that sharpness."
It was similar to when he had learned the Heart of the beast.
However, while the Heart of the beast sought boldness even in the face of death, the technique Ragna spoke of, the one-point concentration, was the opposite.
You had to fight desperately to avoid death.
The fear of death would sharpen your nerves like needles.
'Let's practice alongside real combat.'
Enkrid made a plan in his mind and moved.
"Just learning the trick won't be enough."
"Once you learn, let me know how it feels."
"It feels like everything around you disappears, and the sword moves as you wish."
Ragna answered calmly.
Enkrid looked at Ragna's red eyes.
For the first time, he saw a seriousness in them.
'What's got into him all of a sudden?'
Ragna was unpredictable, but this was the first time he had shown such passion.
Hidden passion, burning deep within his eyes, Ragna spoke.
"It's time to go."
Enkrid nodded.
"Let's go."
***
The battle began again, and mist filled the air.
"Sorcery? You bastards."
Rem shouted in anger.
"Lower your posture!"
Ragna shouted at Enkrid, who was charging forward.
Before, he would have been busy stopping them, but not now.
Now, he knew he wouldn't be caught off guard by some clumsy soldier.
Enkrid ran forward, once again facing enemy soldiers with his eyes, feet, and hands in perfect sequence.
'Start with the Crossbow squad.'
The difference now was that after repeating so many "todays," he had become familiar with the enemy formation.
Well, to be precise, it wasn't that he recognized it with his eyes.
He had naturally memorized it.
Before the first enemy could thrust his spear, Enkrid closed the gap and thrust his dagger upward.
With a sharp thrust, the dagger pierced the chin and roof of the enemy's mouth.
He discarded the dagger and pushed the fallen enemy aside with his shoulder.
"Ha!"
"Ugh!"
The pushed enemy was caught off guard.
Taking advantage of that opening, Enkrid threw two daggers.
The daggers flew through the air, taking out two enemies by the neck.
It was a masterful display.
He then drew his longsword and executed a diagonal slash.
Clang!
A spear's shaft blocked the blow.
Expecting it to be blocked, he used the rebound force to retrieve his sword and cut the enemy's neck on the other side.
Swish!
The well-sharpened blade cleanly sliced through the enemy's neck.
Once again, it was a fight.
Another battle.
The same repeated "today."
He fought again and again, and again, people died.
And Enkrid fought desperately.
The moment he learned the trick, he understood.
It wasn't about boldly facing death; it was about desperately fighting to stay alive.
That was the key.
Ultimately, death couldn't be avoided.
But that was okay.
He would get what he wanted, no matter what.
Of course, amidst it all, there would be things he had to do.
'The Flag.'
He had to attack the flag, the medium of the sorcery.
Adding a goal to real combat.
Enkrid rushed forward.
Through repeated "todays," Enkrid had come to understand the movements of the enemy soldiers.
The enemy soldiers, trusting the mist, were thrown off by a single surprise attack.
Enkrid made full use of that.