Chapter 42 - I Was Lucky

Ragna asked while discussing the technique called Concentrate on a Single Point.

"Are you going to learn it?"

"Of course."

Encrid did not hesitate at all.

'When did his skills improve this much?'

His fundamentals of the Northern Heavy Sword were solidly established. And it was not just simply learning the stance by swinging in the air. He had polished it in actual combat, making it stick perfectly to his body.

'Incredible.'

The Squad Leader was a truly fascinating person. Up until yesterday, he had clearly relied on the anomalous trick known as the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique as his mainstay.

But today, he demonstrated remarkably solid fundamentals.

"Who did you learn swordsmanship from?"

"It cost a lot of money."

It meant he had learned it from a swordsmanship instructor.

'It really must have cost a lot.'

It was understandable. Even if he had taught him himself, it couldn't be better than this.

Then he was worthy of learning beyond the fundamentals.

That was why he brought up Concentrate on a Single Point.

However, Ragna was inwardly skeptical even as he mentioned it.

'Just because you learn it doesn't mean you'll master it.'

Although he claimed to have developed it himself, it was actually one of the secret arts passed down in his family.

Of course, he didn't pass it on exactly as it was. He couldn't just give his family's secret art away to anyone. So he taught him a partially modified and improved version.

Therefore, saying it was a technique he developed wasn't exactly wrong, either.

'Though I've never seen it actually work.'

Ragna hadn't even seen five people enter a state of complete concentration in his entire life.

Considering how long he had wandered the continent and his vast experience, it was an extremely small number.

'What do I mean five, it's probably around three at best.'

Two out of those five were like a carelessly shot arrow managing to hit a wolf in the head.

It was like picking up a coin dropped by the Goddess of Luck.

So it was accurate to say there were only three people who could truly control that concentration ability.

It was something that required talent.

Forgetting one's surroundings and fully concentrating is not an easy task.

This kind of talent wasn't limited solely to swordsmanship. Some scholars would display this level of concentration when studying and learning their respective fields.

And they could even put themselves into that state of concentration whenever they wanted.

They achieved it by immersing themselves and focusing intensely.

But would it really be easy to do that while fighting?

He had no choice but to be skeptical.

Even if he got lucky and experienced it momentarily, he wouldn't be able to master it.

'It's hard, it really is.'

Ragna had made Concentrate One his own the moment he first dipped his toes into it, but.

It would be difficult for Encrid.

But how could he show such a look in his eyes?

"Aren't you going to explain? You don't have to talk about The Oniak Sword Technique since I know it well. Teach me Concentrate on a Single Point."

How could he be so straight and upright?

It felt like looking at an upright tree. Like a giant tree that stands tall and unburnt even when typhoons rage and lightning strikes.

Even though it must sound like chasing clouds, the Squad Leader said he would learn it.

He even nodded his head as if he roughly understood it.

It looked genuine. Then again, the Squad Leader was always sincere.

Whether he was training, swinging a sword, or doing anything else, he threw his absolute best into it. Wasn't that what was so impressive that Ragna was teaching him this technique right now?

"I think I get it."

The Squad Leader spoke. Ragna nodded, even though he thought Encrid had likely misunderstood.

It was a nod of encouragement.

He knew the limits of talent clearly. They usually say a genius cannot see what is beneath their feet, but Ragna had wandered the continent and looked down at his own feet. He had gone underground, met the people living there, conversed with them, and crossed swords with them.

'Talent.'

How many people had collapsed because of that one word?

The Squad Leader would become one of them too. That was the preordained natural order.

Yet, because he didn't give up, Ragna felt a surge of motivation just by looking at him. It was selfish, but because Encrid refused to give up, Ragna could walk his path as well.

Therefore, he would teach him to the best of his ability.

Ragna decided to do just that.

"Forgetting your surroundings, forgetting yourself, and leaving only pure concentration. That is Concentrate One, Concentrate on a Single Point. They say your past life flashes before your eyes in an instant when your life is on the line. It would be good to reference that."

"Really? I see."

For some reason, when he said this, the Squad Leader seemed to be letting the words go in one ear and out the other.

He wasn't this kind of person, was he?

He definitely wasn't the type to give up just because it seemed impossible.

After that, Ragna tried to forcefully stimulate his concentration by threatening him with his sword a few times, but the Squad Leader still failed to enter a state of concentration.

"Good. Let's go."

Even so, he headed out to the battlefield with a rather bright expression.

Seeing that, Ragna also felt a sudden surge of motivation.

"I'll have to warm up my body a bit intensely today."

Normally, he would display the very epitome of a lazy genius by swinging his sword lethargically.

It was not something that should have come out of his mouth.

Encrid quietly stared at such a Ragna.

* * *

'What's wrong with him now?'

'Well, him saying he's going to fight seriously isn't a bad thing.'

Leaving Ragna with his shining eyes, Encrid focused on what he had to do.

Today had started again. Ragna's training method for 'Concentrate on a Single Point' was wrong.

No, even if it was right, the method that genius bastard grasped in an instant was clothes that didn't fit Encrid.

Then was his own method right?

He didn't know whether this method would work or not.

Then what should he do?

'I just have to test it out.'

Encrid moved along the familiar route. He yelled to get down, then ordered them to raise their shields to adjust his allies' movements, and after that, he called out to Rem.

"Spell! Who!"

Rem was currently foaming at the mouth after seeing the spell.

"Follow me!"

When Encrid tapped him on the shoulder from behind and spoke.

"Eh?"

"We charge."

"Huh? Did the Squad Leader eat something wrong?"

Even as he said that, he followed along well.

It was the same route. This time, Ragna followed along even though he hadn't been called.

"Are we charging? If we're smashing the enemy's vanguard, let's do it together."

"Did you eat something wrong too?"

Rem said as he looked at Ragna who had followed. Ragna ignored him and ran forward.

Although it was foggy.

There were no major restrictions on the two men's movements.

Rem was like a typhoon. The two axes in his hands pulverized the enemies.

He looked as if he could slaughter eighty infantrymen all by himself.

Ragna looked like a heavy battering ram. He ruthlessly smashed through the fortress wall known as the infantry. He wasn't fast, but his hands showed no mercy. Whether quarrels flew at him or the spear blades of enemy soldiers thrusted forward, he cut and sliced everything down with a single arming sword.

It was an astounding display of skill.

'At least special-grade.'

In the Naurilia Kingdom, special-grade was a general term used for soldiers above the upper-grade level.

Above the upper-grade was the highest-grade, and beyond that was the special-grade.

'No, maybe highest-grade?'

Encrid still didn't clearly know his own level.

Therefore, he couldn't gauge the level of those two either. Anyway, now wasn't the time to leisurely spectate.

Taking the exact same route, Encrid stood in front of Mitch Hurrier.

"Let's fight."

This time, he initiated the conversation. At that, Mitch's eyes went wide before he cracked a smile.

"You crazy bastard, you walked right into your own death."

He wasn't wrong. Even if he killed Mitch right now, there would be no way for him to survive.

But that was fine.

Because he didn't come to die; he came to throw his absolute best at him.

"Did you come aiming for me? This is ridiculous, this is a first for me."

Mitch expressed his sheer disbelief with his entire body.

"Why? Is this your first time receiving a confession? I fell for you at first sight, so I came looking for you."

Encrid said. Mitch chuckled, then glared menacingly.

"My unit is the Gray Dog, the Persistent Lovers. It's been a really long time since someone found me before I found them."

"Yeah, I see. Are you upset about it, then? Do you want me to go hide again so you can come find me?"

"Bullshit."

Mitch Hurrier lunged forward. Encrid regulated his breathing. He then burned with willpower to enter the state of concentration, and failed.

The outcome of the fight was decided quickly.

The opponent was better than Encrid. In skill, in mental fortitude, and in talent.

He wasn't an opponent to charge at relying on fundamentals alone.

"What were you relying on to charge at me? And how did you even get here?"

His lungs and internal organs were shredded by the sword. It hurt like hell, as if someone had shoved red-hot burning coals into his stomach.

"I relied on myself when I charged. I made a mistake this time, and I guess my mindset was wrong."

Just because he lived today again didn't mean repeating the same experience was easy.

"What?"

"I think I can do it next time."

Just like enlightenment had come to him the first time he entered the state of concentration, he had gained a small realization this time as well.

So let's try it again.

"Even if I let you go, you'll die. What next time?"

"Isn't he a crazy bastard? Don't engage him, Platoon Commander."

SHING!

An enemy soldier standing nearby drew his sword, pressed it against Encrid's neck, and spoke.

Encrid didn't wait; he twisted his neck and intentionally slashed himself on the blade.

SLASH.

The blade must have been sharpened well, as a deep laceration opened on his neck along with a burning pain.

Pain flared up simultaneously from his stomach and neck due to the sudden movement.

Enduring a pain that felt like he was going to die—no, a pain that was literally leading him to his imminent death—Encrid opened his mouth.

"See you again."

Leaving those words behind, he bled out and died.

* * *

Today started again.

Encrid sought out Mitch Hurrier once more.

"Nice to see you. Friend."

"... Did you seriously come looking for me?"

"Yeah. That's right. I came looking for the Platoon Commander of the Persistent Lovers, the Gray Dog. Let's fight."

"You're a crazy bastard."

They clashed again. Encrid realized his mistake.

'I shouldn't force it.'

If he constantly thought about how he needed to concentrate, he would become buried in that thought. Then what should he do?

He just needed to do it like the first time.

As if dancing to his opponent's sword, as if keeping rhythm with his own sword.

He fought and fought again.

It took eighteen repetitions of today in the exact same manner.

Only then did Encrid enter the state of concentration once again.

And oh, how joyful that was.

A laugh slipped out even though he had collapsed to the ground with one arm severed.

He was so overjoyed that he forgot the pain.

"You're laughing?"

Seeing that, Mitch brought his sword down. That was the end of it.

Repeat again.

He kept going. Until it worked.

If anyone saw him, they would call him a ruthless bastard. They would say his perseverance was incredible.

But to Encrid, this was not something that required perseverance.

Entering the state of concentration.

The fact that his ingrained swordsmanship was improving as he repeatedly engaged in actual combat, met a worthy opponent, and swung his sword.

It was so incredibly satisfying that it was simply enjoyable.

As twenty-eight todays passed, Encrid got the hang of the state of concentration.

Through forty-eight todays, he was able to intentionally draw out Concentrate on a Single Point.

And through another ninety-four todays, he became able to draw out Concentrate on a Single Point whenever he wanted.

Pure concentration.

That meant completely controlling his own sword and body.

Once he achieved that, technique naturally followed along with his strength. After he mastered Concentrate on a Single Point like that.

"Teach me."

He began the act of learning from Ragna all over again. When he learned it like that and immediately demonstrated Concentrate on a Single Point, Ragna furrowed his brow.

"What is this?"

"What?"

"It feels like you learned this somewhere else beforehand, no, this isn't something you can just do because you learned it. Um, were you a genius?"

A genius? Even with extreme luck allowing him to gain substantial experience, he had to repeat it over a hundred times just to barely make it stick to his body.

Encrid knew he had no talent, but he didn't dwell on it.

He was simply thoroughly enjoying the present.

So he said the words that had become a habit while repeating today.

"I was lucky."

"You think this is something you can do just by being lucky?"

Ragna was dumbfounded.

Seeing that, Encrid thought it was time to escape this today.

After acting like a genius by picking out and learning only the true essence of Concentrate on a Single Point, he left Ragna behind and turned around, prompting Ragna to ask a question.

"Where are you going?"

"To see the Company Commander."

Ragna let Encrid be.

He was just endlessly amazed that he had grasped Concentrate on a Single Point in one go.

Was the Squad Leader really a genius? It didn't seem like it, though.

He had demonstrated Concentrate on a Single Point, but it showed the intricacy of a statue that had been hammered out countlessly.

It was definitely not something he mastered after seeing it just once.

'How is that possible?'

Ragna, who had been agonizing over it, immediately dropped the thought. It wasn't like agonizing over it would give him an answer anyway.

Then leaving it alone was the answer.

Just seeing a Squad Leader like that was making his motivation surge.

Seeing Ragna's eyes shining today as well, Encrid figured that today was a day where Ragna's motivation would surge no matter what he did.

'Let's just do what I have to do.'

It wasn't the time to pay attention to Ragna.

No matter what they did in this battle, their allies would suffer a blow close to annihilation. To prevent that, two things were necessary.

One was to clear the Fog of Massacre.

The other was for their allies to keep their heads down while the fog was disappearing.

He couldn't do both at the same time.

Encrid only had one body.

Breaking the flagpoles also posed a problem. Even after launching the surprise attack, he would have to escape from the middle of the enemy camp.

Encrid had no intention of staying trapped in today. Therefore, he had to smash and destroy the strategy the enemy had prepared.

"I would like to meet the Company Commander."

Encrid sought out the 4th Platoon Commander and spoke.

"... Right now?"

Since it was a time when they could feel the battlefield approaching on their skin, the allies' atmosphere was on edge.

It was understandable to find it absurd that he wanted to meet the Company Commander in the midst of all this.

The Platoon Commander was resting, having leaned his pike diagonally against the barracks wall.

The Platoon Commander, who had been lying on his field cot with his boots still on, sat up.

"Yes, right now."

"Why?"

"It's because I remembered something I saw during the previous reconnaissance mission."

The 4th Platoon Commander stared closely at Encrid before nodding and standing up from his seat.

A crackling sound of bones shifting came from his knees. He got up, stretched his body, and asked.

"What is it?"

"What the Principality of Aspen forces have hidden seems to be a spell."

"A spell?"

"Yes."

As if doubting whether this was true, the Platoon Commander stopped just as he was about to take a step. Then, thinking that Encrid wasn't the type to spout nonsense, he quickened his pace.

If there was something to say, it had to be said.

The Company Commander would be the one to judge.

Soon, they arrived at the Company Commander's barracks and were able to enter.

"You asked to see me?"

The green-eyed fairy, the Company Commander, asked.

The inside of the barracks was cozy. Watching the short torch burning with a crackle, Encrid nodded.

"Yes."

"What is it about?"

It seemed she would give him a scolding if it wasn't anything important. The Fairy Company Commander's tone was cold.

"It's a spell."

Encrid didn't drag it out and spoke directly.

"A spell?"

"The flagpoles and flags, the person I saw in the enemy territory, it was a shaman."

Although his memory was a bit hazy thanks to this viciously repeated today, he hadn't forgotten what he saw there.

Encrid appropriately dramatized and explained what he had seen.

Just enough to persuade his listener.

If this wasn't enough to persuade her, there was nothing he could do.

'I'll just have to do it again.'

That was the privilege of someone who repeated today.

Fortunately, the Fairy Company Commander listened carefully to Encrid's words.

"In more detail."

"I will."

He told her he had heard the enemy soldiers shouting for the shaman.

The Fairy Company Commander's eyes sparkled.

He didn't say that fog would roll in. That would be overdoing it.

Spells were secret arts passed only to the worthy and never let outside the gates.

It made no sense for him to recognize it at a glance.

Exactly up to here—now it depended on the Company Commander's capabilities.

Encrid delivered the message and returned to his place.

He stood at the vanguard of the battlefield.

Now it was time to move past Mitch Hurrier and break the flagpoles.

'This is as far as I can go.'

The rest was up to the commander.

"Huu."

Now it was time to surpass his self that had been trapped in today.