Splash.
The current ripples.
The only source of light in the pitch-black darkness illuminates the surroundings. Following the trace of light, a figure holding a lamp can be seen on the ferry.
Encrid's body was placed in a long ferryboat, drifting along the river.
Was it just an illusion that the boat had grown larger and longer than before?
It had been a long time since his last dream.
The ferryman stood on the opposite side, holding the oar.
"It's been a while."
Encrid said.
Eyes, nose, mouth, and skin could now be seen. His skin was like parched land, dry and cracked. The gray, fissured surface held no trace of humanity.
It was still difficult to read any expressions, but compared to their first meeting, there was more to be seen.
At least now, the eyes, nose, and mouth were visible.
Moreover, the ferryman could now speak.
His mouth opened, forming a line that briefly parted before closing again. It was impossible to decipher the meaning from the brief opening and closing of his lips.
"This wall will be interesting."
He said.
His heavy, deep voice felt like a blunt hammer.
Words, once spoken, reach the listener. There is no faster weapon than that.
Encrid felt as though his heart had been struck by the hammer that was the ferryman's words, without even having the chance to defend.
The shock spread through his entire body. His body trembled. He felt vibrations. It stirred the primal fear inherent in every human. That's how the ferryman affected him.
But Encrid…
"I look forward to it."
He responded.
He enjoyed it all.
In this place, there was no Heart of the Beast, no Focus Point, no mastery of techniques, nor his trained body.
Only the essence of his being remained.
Encrid responded with his core will, conviction, and determination.
He truly enjoyed it. Sincerely and wholeheartedly, he enjoyed even this situation. It was a statement born from deep within him.
The trembling of his heart, the shock reverberating through his body—these would all become stepping stones for what came next.
It was the anticipation that overcame fear.
Could there be a day when these were not stepping stones?
Perhaps. But no.
It was a contradiction. A self-contradictory statement.
Yet for Encrid, it made perfect sense.
'There is something to learn from a flower blooming in the field.'
There is something to learn from the stars in the night sky.
There is something to learn even from the dandelion seeds carried by the wind.
Contemplate.
Ponder.
Agonize.
Think, and think again. Do not forget that everything can become part of your sword.
Mentors, instructors, mercenaries, Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, Audin, along with Esther, Dunbachel, Teresa, Krang, Andrew, and recently Asia.
And countless others, the ones slain by his sword.
The enemies during that repeated first day.
The swordsmen of the Hurrier family.
Wizards, magic, sorcery, the traps of strategy.
Everything was a lesson.
"Is it madness or resolve?"
The ferryman asked.
His figure slowly blurred. This was a dream, a realm within the mind. Soon, Encrid would wake up.
"Or is it the outcry of the ignorant?"
The ferryman gazed at Encrid.
The color of his eyes constantly shifted. They turned blue, then red, and from red to pitch black. At times, they glowed violet before resembling the bark of a dark tree.
It was only then that Encrid realized he was directly staring into the ferryman's eyes for the first time.
"Now you even meet my eyes."
The ferryman's voice was heard again. There was a faint sense of admiration mixed in.
With that, Encrid opened his eyes.
'It's been a while.'
It had been a long time since he'd had a dream with the ferryman. It seemed like ages since he last saw him.
Lately, he hadn't repeated 'today'. Was that why he had let his guard down? Was it because he hadn't encountered the repeating day?
No, he hadn't let his guard down. Not when capturing the Moonlight Beast, not when facing off against Asia.
As his thoughts shifted towards Asia, their sparring session resurfaced in his mind. There was regret—deep regret. It would have been far more interesting if they had fought longer.
There was still much left to learn. But she had left.
From Asia, there was a discipline that even Rem, Ragna, and Jaxon didn't show easily.
'Is it because she built her foundation in the Knight order?'
It was graceful, yet upright.
Though it was called the Phantom Blade, it was entirely different from the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.
'The Phantom Blade deceives and confuses the opponent.'
Splash.
The technique utilizes the opponent's concentration, rather than mere deception.
It's a method that might not work against seasoned warriors or swordsmen.
Perhaps for those below the level of a Junior Knight, or even a Squire, they might disregard Asia's 'Targeting the Sword's Tip' and simply swing their own sword.
Ignorance, at times, can appear bold when one doesn't understand what's happening.
Of course, at that level, an opponent wouldn't even require the use of 'Targeting the Sword's Tip.'
Even in the short time they fought, there was still much to learn.
He maintained the same mindset as in his dream.
There is something to learn even from a dandelion seed carried by the wind.
'Everything that happens around me is my teacher.'
If there is a lesson, he would think deeply, ponder over it, and learn.
Though Encrid wasn't consciously aware of it, his desire for improvement always boiled within him.
It was the drive to become better.
The desire to move forward.
The ambition to improve his skills, his level, and his techniques.
Naturally, this led to an active attitude, and it didn't stop there—he would also reflect on himself.
Now, he knew that was the quicker path.
There are times when rest is important, and when it's more necessary to take a step back and look from a distance.
Now, he knew that too.
Things he hadn't realized when he was meeting and learning from numerous instructors.
Only now did he start to see, understand, and reflect on them one by one.
Encrid knew that the time that had passed had not been in vain.
With these thoughts, he rose and began his daily routine again.
Once outside, he bounced on the spot to warm up his body.
After that, he performed the unique Isolation Technique, which involved loosening each joint and stretching his muscles.
Then, with Andrew's assistance, he stood before the stacked garden stones, gripping them in both hands and pulling as he rose.
This was a process that strengthened the back of his thighs, the core of his body, and the quadriceps as he squatted and stood.
Before he knew it, he had forgotten the dream of the ferryman and his drive for improvement.
All that remained in him was pure zeal.
"Aren't you tired of it?"
Andrew, who had come out late, clicked his tongue.
"Tired of what?"
Encrid asked in return, catching his breath during a brief break.
"What you're doing. No, I mean, all of it."
From strengthening his body every morning, then further training by being struck by Dunbachel's stones or Rem's fists.
After that, practicing swordsmanship and handling various weapons.
Then, more sparring, followed by more training.
In the spare time, he teaches both himself and his trainees.
It was a schedule that seemed excessive even for one day, yet he carried it out every day without batting an eye. Andrew couldn't believe a human could do such things.
His question came from that sentiment.
Not to mention, he'd recently come back from slaying something called a Moonlight Beast or whatever it was—a person or a monster.
He had spoken of it as casually as if he had gone for an evening stroll.
From Andrew's perspective, he wondered if Encrid was even human anymore.
His life now was far more ruthless than before.
Even when Andrew had served under him in the past, he thought Encrid's training was brutal, but compared to then, despite Encrid's current prowess, his training had only increased. It was more intense, more extreme.
"Honestly."
Encrid began.
"Honestly?"
Andrew prompted, when Encrid didn't immediately continue.
"It's just too much fun, I could die from it."
Andrew's lips half-opened, then closed, opened again, and closed once more. He couldn't find the words.
But if he didn't say something to express all of his awe, his chest would feel suffocated.
So, he turned his head slightly to the side and muttered under his breath, out of earshot:
"...Crazy bastard."
Even though it was whispered, Encrid, of course, heard it.
Jaxon, who had suddenly appeared, gave Andrew a piece of advice from behind.
"He can hear everything."
"Huh?"
Startled by not sensing his presence, Andrew turned his head back and asked.
"The Captain has sharp ears."
Jaxon kindly repeated.
Andrew's doubtful gaze shifted to Encrid.
"I didn't hear you call me a crazy bastard."
"Oh…"
Andrew sighed.
"Let's start the training."
That day, the Isolation Technique was specially tailored for Andrew.
The human body adapts. If the intensity remains the same every day, one is bound to weaken.
Thus, the training must be harder, more intense.
Encrid gifted Andrew with such a challenge.
"Why us…"
The five trainees had to undergo more intense training as well, so they began to feel a tinge of resentment.
Their eyes were filled with something akin to complaint.
"They seem to have some energy left, huh?"
Rem laughed as he noticed. Where did they get that look in their eyes? Resentment? Reeessseeentmeeent?
"Good. Very good."
Rem chuckled. Upon seeing this, the faces of the five trainees turned pale.
Ragna didn't appear at the training ground until late morning.
Compared to before, he seemed like a completely different person.
It looked like it would be another ordinary day.
Except for the fact that tomorrow was Krang's crown ceremony.
But things were different.
Encrid sensed the change in the air.
"It's oddly quiet."
Rem, with his beast-like instincts, picked up on the same scent. Dunbachel noticed it too.
"Let's gear up."
Encrid said. Rem nodded without a word. Everyone began to move. Encrid, too, started gathering his equipment.
'Six Whistling Daggers.'
They would come in handy if the timing was right.
He took three swords, wrapped his body in bandage-like armor, and over that, he wore a leather gambeson.
It was an armor with a lining made of tough fabric.
Because of this, it restricted his movement slightly, holding his body tightly, but it wasn't enough to be a major hindrance.
It was a gift from Andrew.
"Gather your gear."
It was right after the morning training had ended. At Encrid's command, Andrew and the five trainees also grouped together.
"What's going on?"
Mac asked. Did he sense the ominous air as well?
Or was he just anxious after seeing Encrid and the others preparing?
"The atmosphere isn't good."
Dunbachel answered. Ragna, from one side, was gathering his swords and strapping a short sword to his waist.
He then tightened the laces on his boots.
As Encrid began checking all his equipment from his sword belt onward, he cast his gaze around the mansion, listening carefully.
"There's nothing, right?"
Rem wasn't wrong when he remarked how quiet it was.
Jaxon nodded at Encrid's words.
Instead of his usual longsword, Jaxon had a forearm-length sword strapped to his waist.
Sensing the ominous atmosphere, Jaxon immediately surveyed the area.
There was no one around the mansion. Even on what should have been a busy street, not even a single dog was in sight.
A few people could be seen hiding inside their homes beyond the cleanly swept stone path.
Had someone cleared the area? No, it was more likely that the residents were avoiding coming near this mansion.
The surroundings were already encircled by troops. Soldiers dressed as guards, armed with spears and swords, were particularly noticeable. There were over twenty of them.
Encrid dismissed them. They weren't enough to do much.
Then what were they planning?
For now, his backing was Krang. Marcus too. Would they dare act, ignoring that?
'What are they up to?'
He even felt a tinge of excitement.
As they waited for a moment, Esther suddenly lifted her head.
Her eyes met Encrid's.
Esther, who had been lying quietly, had suddenly snapped her head up, reacting to something.
'A spell?'
More accurately, it was the interference of mana.
Someone had cast some magical trick in the area.
Nothing was happening yet, but if left unchecked, they could do whatever they were preparing for.
There's a saying that in a battle between wizards, the one who prepares first wins.
It means that knowing and preparing for your opponent gives you an advantage.
'Do they know me?'
From a magical perspective, they might. Although she rarely revealed herself, hadn't she killed Galaf, who controlled the river?
One of his disciples might have recognized her trace.
'Who could it be?'
It was more curiosity than concern.
There was a reason she had once been called the Fighting Witch.
If they had come knowing about the rumors that she had grown weak due to the curse, they would surely regret it deeply.
Esther stepped forward from her panther-like form and transformed back into her human self.
As the fur disappeared, her white, smooth skin was revealed, and what was left of the fur morphed into a long coat.
The transformed Esther fastened the front of her coat and looked around.
"Look any longer, and you'll lose your eyes."
Just then, Encrid was seen grabbing Andrew's chin and turning his face away.
"Well done."
Esther briefly praised before starting to walk.
"I'll be back shortly."
Encrid didn't ask where she was going. He knew she would handle things on her own. If there was something magical at play, she would go and stop it.
It wasn't exactly a worry, but Encrid wanted to offer some words of support, so he did.
"Don't come back beaten."
"Who do you think you're worrying about?"
With calm confidence and a touch of arrogance, Esther, with her long black hair tied back, leapt over the wall.
Before anyone noticed, her coat had already been complemented by long leather pants and a white shirt beneath.
With the curse lifted, it wasn't difficult for her to craft clothes with protective spells woven into them.
She hadn't been idling away on cushions all this time.
Esther, too, had been preparing in her own way.
Not every wizard is a seer, but those who handle their spells properly develop a sense for predicting danger.
Esther was no different.
She hadn't foreseen this exact moment, but she had prepared for it.
Now, it was simply a matter of showing that preparation.
Right after Esther left, Encrid turned his head slightly, moving his ears a few times before speaking.
"Andrew, leave some people inside the mansion and prepare to defend."
"What?"
"There might be quite a lot of them."
Andrew followed the command without question.
"Everyone, inside!"
A few servants, including the remaining maids, attendants, Mac, and the five trainees, went inside first, while Andrew remained in the training yard.
Encrid glanced at him, and Andrew responded.
"I should lend a hand, shouldn't I?"
After all, Encrid had mentioned there were many of them.
It was more because he found it bothersome to defend and fight at the same time, but Andrew wasn't one to go down easily.
The five trainees and Mac should be able to hold their own for a while.
Not that Encrid intended to let anyone breach the mansion in the first place.
Thud-thud-thud.
Soon, a rumble shook the ground.
He could feel the vibrations growing closer, and the sound sent a chill down his spine.
A cloud of dust rose, and a cavalry unit appeared, galloping over the stone path.
At the entrance of the mansion, a tightly-packed unit blocked the view. Standing at the front was a man in ornate armor, who called out:
"I am Pullman Vertes! Is the man named Encrid here?"
"...The magistrate?"
Andrew muttered under his breath, recognizing the name.
"That would be me."
Encrid raised his hand. It was clad in an impressive gauntlet reinforced with sturdy leather and iron plates.
In other words, he was armed. That much was obvious to the magistrate.
There were twenty men surrounding the mansion. The cavalry unit alone numbered more than thirty, with infantry trailing behind. Altogether, there were over a hundred men. It seemed like the entire guard force had been mobilized.
Among them, Encrid noticed the South Gate Captain, who had been present when they captured the Moonlight Beast.
His face had gone pale.
"Under the suspicion of murdering Viscount Bentra, I will take you into custody."
The magistrate declared from atop his horse.
Well, damn. What a load of nonsense.
Encrid's expression said it all.
"Bullshit."
Rem said it out loud.
The magistrate's face flushed with anger at the blunt response.
A stark contrast to the South Gate Captain, whose face had turned completely ashen.