Chapter 126 - Today's Victory Does Not Guarantee Tomorrow's Victory (2)

Sparks burst in Ragna's eyes.

Motivation, desire, or something else.

Before Encrid could finish the thought.

WHOOSH!

The sound of air being split reached his ears first.

The moment he heard it, the blade was above his head.

Encrid moved too.

He held his sword horizontally, and the blade made from a mix of Valeri steel and Noir wrought iron met a crude, shabby arming sword of poor quality.

CLANG!

Blade met blade.

Noise burst out.

And no sooner had they met than the blades parted.

Ragna took one step back, and Encrid likewise took one step back.

Should he call it a sword strike exchanged as a greeting?

Even from a mere greeting, Encrid felt as if he had seen something new again.

'What should I call what I just saw?'

An incredibly fast sword stroke?

Or a silent downward cut?

It was graceful.

Beautiful and outstanding.

Ragna's sword was that clean a slash.

His own response was the opposite.

It was not clean.

It was rough.

It was like a crude blade without an edge.

Like rough leather that had not been tanned.

Even so, he had seen it, and his body had reacted.

"Again."

Ragna spoke.

The blade came flying along a trajectory that looked exactly like the stroke from before, not differing in the slightest.

A clean and beautiful slash.

Encrid blocked it in the same posture.

CLANG!

The blades collided and sparks flew.

A tingling shock ran through him.

The instant their blades collided again, Ragna's blade disappeared.

'A cut-off strike from the moment of impact.'

Ragna handled his sword freely and at will.

The move he had just shown was the same.

It had seemed like a gentle downward strike, but it was a cut-off strike carrying force.

Encrid had raised his sword horizontally to block it, but both arms rang with numbness.

In that gap, Ragna's sword bent like a snake and stabbed downward.

The target was his thigh.

One cut-off strike had made his arms go numb.

He was about to be helplessly caught.

Should he force his numb arms to move?

No, that was a bad move.

Instead of his hands, Encrid used his feet and jumped backward.

He tried to take an advantageous position with his footwork.

If he pulled his right foot back and turned his body, he would naturally take the opponent's flank.

Ragna did not stand still either.

He naturally drew back the sword he had been driving down and moved his foot to the side.

SSSSK.

At the end of steps that seemed to sweep the ground, the two faced each other again.

If what filled Ragna's eyes was some kind of passion.

Then, on the other hand, what filled Encrid's eyes?

'Those eyes.'

Desire boiled up in Ragna.

Motivation welled up.

He wanted to swing his sword.

Not with his mouth and tongue, but with his hands and feet.

With swords, with weapons, with killing intent, with will.

He wanted to converse through such things.

Encrid did not refuse it either.

'Good. Good.'

Ragna was inwardly admiring him.

In that brief exchange, Encrid felt something unbearable burst up inside his chest.

A greeting exchanged by swords, then a battle for position following the cut-off strike.

Everything blended together and tapped something inside his chest.

Then something began to burst out from his whole body.

What should he call this?

Vitality?

Essence?

He did not know.

There was only one thing certain: he was overflowing with strength.

Through the greeting and the cut-off strike, he had finished checking the condition of his wrist.

A heavy impact might remain, but there was no pain.

'It's fine.'

Then all that remained was to join in.

This time, Encrid was first.

It was a thrust filled with all his strength and the will to kill.

He set his left foot forward, carried out every movement in one breath, and sent his sword flying with a sharp whistle.

Like a hawk diving down, the tip of the sword cut through the air.

Ragna watched the incoming sword point and twisted his body.

Though it was not flashy footwork, his body evaded Encrid's thrust.

Ragna smiled as he dodged.

And Encrid smiled because he was satisfied to see Ragna dodge.

From the side, it would have looked like a very simple sequence of exchanges.

Thrusting, cutting, dodging, and taking position.

TAK-TAK.

Encrid's attacks had many irregularities.

He also suddenly closed the distance tight and tried to kick Ragna in the shin.

When Ragna avoided that, Encrid grabbed the ricasso and blade of his sword as he was and engaged in half-swording.

Ragna struck aside, deflected, and evaded everything before swinging his sword.

He swung and swung again, as if that were the only thing he knew how to do.

'Damn it.'

Rem stamped his feet as he watched.

'That looks fucking fun.'

Encrid's skill had grown again.

In the few days Rem had not seen him, something had changed again.

He wanted to fight him.

He wanted to face Encrid with his wrist intact.

Just watching made the desire rise in him.

'Take it easy. Easy.'

Rem grew anxious.

He was worried Encrid might burn through all his stamina while fighting Ragna.

That had never happened before, but was this sparring not a little different?

Some different current was flowing.

It was different from the sparring before, when his wrist had been injured.

Everyone had been surprised then too, but Rem and the others had mostly gone easy on him and yielded.

But now?

'Isn't that bastard being a little serious?'

To Rem's eyes, Ragna's sword strokes looked that way.

Even if it was not as much as when he fought Rem himself, it was not his usual lazy sword.

If he had put out even half of his current strength when fighting the enemy, the enemy commander would have carved the name Ragna into his memory.

'You bastard, seriously, take it easy.'

Rem's hands itched.

If the two of them had not been smiling, he felt he would already have charged in with his axe.

Rem was not the only one whose blood heated up watching this.

'Why am I?'

Jaxon denied himself.

Had he liked stepping to the front and fighting?

No.

Not once had that ever been the case.

He had diligently trained in swordsmanship, yes, but had that been something he did because his heart moved him?

It had not.

Training in swordsmanship and moving because he was driven by desire were different matters.

At least, for Jaxon, they were.

His body twitched.

His hands kept trying to move.

His body reacted to Encrid's steps and to the sword swung by the man he called Platoon Commander.

'This isn't even funny.'

To suddenly feel this competitive spirit.

No matter how much Encrid's skill had improved, Jaxon was confident he could beat him down right now.

In Jaxon's eyes, the stupid lazybones called Ragna was not doing his best.

If he had been more serious than now, if that were the case, it would have been over long ago.

Then why was his body reacting to that kind of fight?

Jaxon clenched his molars tight.

It felt like his pride had been strangely wounded.

He steadied his heart and fell silent.

Afterward, he controlled even his twitching body and stood rooted in place, only watching.

While Jaxon steadied himself, Audin, who was watching the fight, was pleased.

He was delighted.

'Now, soon.'

Because it seemed he could use a bit of strength himself.

He was not impatient, nor did he deny the competitive spirit rising in him.

'Because it was given by the Lord.'

For Audin, the desire for struggle was beneficial and good.

If he had not had even such a thing, his place now would not have been beside Encrid, but beside the god he served.

Though he had suffered a terrible headache for two whole days as the price of using divinity, Audin was inwardly satisfied.

Look at that.

Did the movements of the fully hale Squad Leader not make him marvel?

The Fairy Company Commander did not miss a single movement Encrid and Ragna made.

And as she watched, a thought came to her.

'Was he a genius?'

It was a question that naturally arose.

He certainly had not been that skilled.

Their first meeting at the Medical Barracks.

Then she recalled the moments when she had faced Encrid afterward.

'I thought he was just lucky.'

Now, his handling of the sword could not be ignored either.

Even to her eyes, he was exceptional.

He had the kind of skill that stood out like a lone crane among countless chickens.

From what she had observed so far, one could say he was a genius who had risen to this level in a short time.

'No, that's not it. It's a little different.'

Her keen eye did find flaws in Encrid's body.

They were habits a genius naturally would not have.

At times, a Fairy's senses could be sharper than a Frog's ability to appraise talent.

There were traces seen only in those who had swung the sword for a long, truly unceasing time and agonized over it endlessly.

Encrid showed such things.

Would such things be seen in the breed called geniuses?

No.

It was like Ragna now.

There was no agony in the sword he swung.

That was the model of a genius.

Then what about Encrid?

"Hah!"

Just then, Encrid shouted and attempted a crown strike with one hand.

It was a sword carrying the agony he had felt while repeating the same movement countless times.

It was the kind of sword stroke that knew the path he now swung along was optimal because he had gone down this road and that road alike, convinced this was the only road to the destination.

CLANG!

The two swords met.

With a harsh scraping sound, the blade of Encrid's sword slid to one side along Ragna's sword.

A ploy?

The Fairy's senses were accurate.

Ragna put strength into it and knocked Encrid's sword away.

Immediately, he extended his sword forward and attempted a short vertical cut.

In that gap, Encrid's left hand spat light.

A bluish ray of light.

Something that began at his waist.

A magic made by tempering that stretched out, cutting through the sunlight.

It was the second sword.

WHOOSH!

In the end, Encrid's sword cut empty air.

The second sword, the draw, was frighteningly fast, but even in that brief instant, Ragna's eyes had grasped everything.

He avoided the sword strike by stepping backward.

It was a perfectly calculated retreat.

Encrid's second sword only passed emptily in front of Ragna.

After that, Ragna brought down the sword he had drawn back.

It was a strike that stole timing and destroyed the ploy.

It could not be called a victory purely in the battle of moves.

This was, in other words, a difference in the abilities they possessed.

What was needed in battle was not simply strength alone.

Perception, senses, experience, swordsmanship.

Ragna had sensed and seen Encrid's left hand move.

After that, he moved his feet and hands at a speed Encrid could not show.

That was how the spar ended.

When the Fairy Company Commander saw the finished fight, she grew a little restless.

'I want to fight him too.'

It was not as if she had no competitive spirit.

Before, she had fought him with her hands and feet, but now she wanted to cross swords.

With a little sincerity mixed in, to a certain degree.

The desire to show him the miraculous skill her years could display suddenly surged up.

If Encrid saw that, how would he change again?

Krais, who had been watching the spar from one side, felt no competitive spirit at all.

When he could not even properly see the two fighting, what competitive spirit was there to speak of?

'He's improved.'

Still, even as an outsider, he could tell that Encrid's skill had grown tremendously.

'Is he some kind of late-blooming genius?'

It was astonishing, but that was as far as it went.

After that, Krais turned his eyes from the spar to the surroundings.

It was an interesting situation to watch.

Rem stood up and sat down three times, then outright stamped his feet.

He looked like a child impatient after having a cherished toy taken away.

Beside him, Jaxon twitched his shoulders a few times by himself, then suddenly stopped moving as if he had become a heavy stone statue.

He did not move so much as a fingertip, to the point Krais wondered if he was breathing.

How could he stop like that, as if he had turned into ice?

Watching him somehow sent a chill down Krais's spine.

It felt like being left alone in a cemetery in the pitch-black night.

'Oof.'

Krais needlessly shuddered, and his gaze reached Audin.

This hulking soldier, steeped in the teachings of god, was practically smiling with satisfaction as he murmured to himself.

Krais went right beside Audin and listened to what he was murmuring.

"Hm, good. Now he should be worth fighting."

"It should be all right if one arm gets broken."

"Breaking the neck is... ah, I nearly sent him to god first. That won't do. Of course, that won't do."

This time, it was truly frightening.

Goosebumps rose all over him.

What the hell was he saying?

Even though he said such things, it did not seem like he would rush in.

What he muttered from his mouth was fear itself, but his attitude was solemn.

Audin quietly kept his place.

Lastly, there was the Fairy Company Commander.

The Fairy who had been making strange jokes did not take her eyes off Encrid while holding her sword.

She was like a quiet forest, yet like a storm that might rise at any moment.

That was Krais's impression.

He thought these people truly were something.

No crowd of spectators gathered around them.

A few days after the victory, the morale that had risen so high had quietly settled down.

Since another battle could break out at any moment, everyone was busy with personal maintenance.

A few soldiers turned their eyes and watched, but they did not pay much attention.

Had they not already shown once that their skill was outstanding?

Had they not watched these people's sparring when Encrid returned from the rear?

They were people who could not feel much difference from then.

Those with discerning eyes were busy.

And the rest had no desire to watch.

There were no noisy spectators.

Spectators, the atmosphere that made it seem like battle would soon break out, the air itself—none of that had anything to do with these people.

Even though they knew that, in this situation, they would soon have to go onto the battlefield.

'They're in a frenzy because they want to fight each other.'

And the target they all aimed for was one person.

Encrid, who had just shaken off all his injuries and gotten up.

Their own Platoon Commander.

'Do they have brains or not?'

That did not mean Krais would scold them.

He was careful not to touch them even normally.

Now, it was even more so.

The heat blooming among them was no joke.

'Will this be all right?'

Even to his eyes, the spar with Ragna had been fierce.

He thought it would be right to end it and rest.

But if Encrid said he was going to rest just like that, Rem would obviously throw a fit.

The others likely would not let it pass in a good mood either.

Krais's worry was needless.

"Next."

Encrid was drenched in sweat and smiling broadly.

Unable to contain the strength surging from his body, Encrid wanted to work himself like mad.

At those words, Rem leaped up.

He actually sprang from the ground and ran forward.

"My turn! My turn! If anyone cuts in, I'll kill them! Company Commander or whatever!"

Rem's eyes had rolled back.

The Company Commander started to step forward, then stopped.

She decided to make use of the virtue of yielding.

It was fine anyway.

Seeing him now.

Encrid did not look like he had any thought of resting either.

That day, Encrid was worked to the bone.

Just as he wanted, he joyfully crossed swords, swung his blade, and showed dual wielding too.

"Usable."

The Fairy Company Commander was also able to make use of her opportunity.

She gave a brief assessment of his use of two swords as well.

It did not end with one round either.

Ragna twice, Rem three times, Audin twice, and the Fairy Company Commander once.

Those were the number of times they fought Encrid, excluding Jaxon, who ultimately did not step forward.

Krais clicked his tongue in disbelief.

Only when the sun went down did the sparring end.

As if they never got tired.

When the sparring ended, Encrid collapsed and lay sprawled out.

Esther, who appeared at some point, saw that and glared fiercely at everyone.

Her gaze seemed to say, what had they done to him to make him end up like this?

However, no one paid any attention to that gaze.

And Encrid was more satisfied than anything.

'Their expressions.'

When had it been?

Was it when he had returned after finishing the reconnaissance at the Tall Grass Fields?

Back then, he had watched Rem and Ragna spar and felt it.

That the expressions they wore were different from when they sparred with him.

He had wanted to draw out those expressions.

And today, he finally had.

Of course, not everyone, including Rem and Ragna, had displayed their full ability.

He knew that well himself.

But he had seen it.

Their changed expressions.

Laughter, smiles, satisfaction.

It felt as if he had achieved one small goal.

Encrid felt exhilaration and pleasure.

A joy like a drug.

The fulfillment gained through growth filled his chest.

However, perhaps because he had overdone it too much.

That night, he had another dogshit nightmare.