Chapter 551 - Why Would the Ferryman?

The water rippled.

The black river, the ferry, the violet lamp, and the ferryman sitting aboard it.

It had been a while since Encrid had opened his eyes inside this dream, this world within his mind.

His gaze naturally settled on the ferryman. Unlike the indistinct figure he had seen before, the ferryman looked relatively clear. Beneath his robe was skin like drought-cracked earth, and eyes clouded thickly with a whitish film stared at Encrid.

"Did you hope I had vanished because you had not seen me in some time? That will never happen, mortal who must dream of immortality."

Facing the ferryman for the first time in a while, Encrid sat back against the boat's railing. There was no chair today.

"You could have the throne by killing just one man. Were you not tempted?"

Was it because they had not met in so long? Or had the ferryman decided to change? Rather than tell him to remain in today, he appealed to humanity's innate greed.

"Had you killed him, you could have become king. Damage to your Will? That can always be repaired. Besides, a little damage to your Will would hardly matter."

Encrid instinctively knew the ferryman was wrong. Will did not work that way. If he truly acted like that, his inexhaustible Will, called Urke, might disappear.

Of course, it might not. No one really knew what the future held. If a single mistake could destroy one's Will, Aspen's knight Corwin should have lost his when he fled, but he had not.

The ferryman's words prompted various thoughts, but Encrid neither argued nor questioned him.

"The time will come when you need a perfect today."

This was probably what the ferryman had wanted to say. His emotionless voice continued, driving into Encrid's ears.

No, since this was a world within his mind, would it be more accurate to say the words reached his mind directly rather than his ears?

In any case, it felt different from the time he had warned of an approaching curse. He was not speaking because something was immediately at hand. He spoke as though it were as inevitable as tomorrow's sunrise.

Encrid raised his half-lowered head. Something like this seemed to have happened before, but he paid that no mind and spoke.

"Not Wave Sword, but Wavebreak Sword. I think that's right."

The ferryman was not caught off guard this time. He already knew the bastard was thinking about something else.

"A sword that stops crashing waves, rather than one that crashes like a wave?"

He deftly picked up Encrid's line of thought, then went a step further and offered a remark on swordsmanship.

"That's right."

"If all you do is block, you would be better off carrying a shield."

Yes, the ferryman was right. That question had stayed in Encrid's mind until he fell asleep last night.

As he tried to establish the form and flow of the sword art, it had become a sword that stopped waves rather than one that crashed like them. In that case, wouldn't a shield be better?

No, surely not. Didn't he already possess a technique that answered that? The technique he called Snake Sword. It did not merely deflect an attack, but struck back.

Then what if he used a sword, rather than a shield, to send some rebounding force back?

"Polish it like a mirror that reflects sunlight, and it will be of use."

A mirror did not block light. It reflected it.

Rather than simply withstand an oncoming wave, he would advance and strike while blocking it.

Something abstract began taking shape in his mind. He felt that trying it out with his body might lead somewhere.

"Do you never tire of it?"

The ferryman asked. Encrid merely stared at him, wondering what he meant.

Tire? Of what?

"Never mind. Enough. Go."

The ferryman's tone seemed to change oddly, but that was all. He added one more remark afterward, though it was more of the same.

* * *

Encrid woke from the dream, or world within his mind, and climbed out of bed. At the sound of him stirring, he heard a servant outside the door announce that he was awake, despite the early hour.

'I feel light.'

His body felt good. In truth, it had not felt bad lately, but today he felt particularly fine.

Was it the dream, the results of last night's deliberations, or perhaps the ferryman's consideration?

Just before he woke, the ferryman had said he would eventually have to remain in some today or other, and that he could not escape fate. Encrid had promptly ignored and forgotten it.

If he fretted over every remark like that, how would he get anything important done?

"I will bring water for you to wash."

The servant spoke before him. Encrid shook his head, lightly loosening his neck and wrists.

"Later."

With that, he went straight outside. There was a training ground within the palace. Hadn't someone said that only knights staying in the palace and those of royal blood had once been allowed to use it?

Krang had apparently called that a novel kind of bullshit and overhauled the whole arrangement. Now it was a place for anyone who wanted to work up a sweat.

Pure blue, vivid darkness. If such things existed, that was how he wanted to describe this moment.

It was early morning, still dark, but a bluish light enveloped his surroundings as though promising the brightness to come. A cool breeze announcing autumn passed through his nose and deep into his lungs, proclaiming a clear, refreshing morning before flowing out again.

WHOOSH!

Before the training ground came into view, his ears told him someone was already there.

The communal training ground, formerly reserved for royalty, was enclosed by a low circular stone wall. A little grass grew on either side, and the ground was covered in soft earth with the stones sifted out.

["I don't know whether they had nothing better to do or too many Krona lying around, but does it make sense to build a training ground and leave it idle while keeping out the people who actually need it?"]

One of Krang's idle remarks from their journey to and from Aspen came back to him.

Someone inside was heating up this cool autumn day and its blue dawn. Encrid sprang off the ground and cleared the wall without even laying a hand on it. The person swinging a heavy wooden practice sword turned his head.

"Lierban."

Encrid greeted him first. They were old acquaintances. As Lierban looked at him, a light sheen of sweat on his skin, Encrid spoke out of habit.

"Spar?"

A smile spread across Lierban's face.

"I'd like that."

Seeing someone keep moving forward without stopping was a pleasure. It was for Encrid, at least. Looking at Lierban suddenly brought a thought to mind.

'Could that be how the ferryman felt?'

Had the ferryman offered him advice and help last night? Why? Because he enjoyed watching him? That ferryman?

It seemed unlikely. At the end, he had reverted to his usual behavior and said something resembling a curse. It was not worth worrying about now.

Encrid picked up one of the wooden swords lined up along one side. Lierban had been swinging a stone club for training, so he set it down, exchanged it for a wooden sword, and swung it through the air a few times.

"You're up early."

"I haven't slept. I came straight here after my shift."

So that was it. Encrid had not really been curious.

Sword in hand, Encrid faced his opponent. He would match Lierban's strength and speed, focusing instead on receiving his sword and striking back.

Lierban's sword dropped straight down. It stood to reason that he would have at least one technique he trusted. This was it: a descending strike with no preparatory motion and a shortened path.

Of course, it could pose no threat to Encrid.

CLACK!

The wooden swords met. Lierban frowned.

'Hm?'

He had swung hard, but he was no stranger to wielding a sword. What was this?

The unexpected impact left his wrist faintly numb. It felt as though he had struck solid rock.

'Or perhaps a lump of iron, rather than rock.'

It felt harder even than that. He had practiced Steel Cut a few times, so he had a rough idea of how hard steel was.

He swung again, and the wooden swords crossed.

CLACK!

This time, rather than collide squarely, his sword struck a glancing blow and swept past. Lierban darted sideways, using hit-and-run footwork to strike.

But then his wrist began to ache and tremble violently.

They had barely brushed.

"It works."

The blue-eyed knight spoke right in front of him, within sword's reach. Had this been a real fight, a single thrust would have left Lierban dead.

Instead of putting a hole in Lierban's throat, Encrid twirled his wooden sword through the air several times and continued.

"But the weapon won't hold up very well."

He could see that the middle of the wooden sword was warped and cracked. At this rate, it looked ready to break without his using any particularly impressive technique.

"What is that?"

It was Lierban's first time experiencing a knight's technique, so his amazement was understandable. In truth, even Rem ought to find it remarkable if he faced it.

"Wavebreak Sword."

He called it a sword that could stop even crashing waves, but more accurately, it was a sword art that received the force of an opponent's swing and struck back, exploiting the rebound.

Perhaps it could be called a step above Snake Sword. Snake Sword did not use Will, whereas this technique fought with inexhaustible Will as its weapon.

Still, even if Ragna saw it and copied it, he would not bother using it. It was far too inefficient. It squandered Will, wrapping the entire body in it to knock attacks away.

The technique's structure was exceedingly simple. What happened when a sword struck solid rock? If the blade did not suffer, the wielder's wrist would give out first.

He braced his whole body and struck with force. What if his opponent overwhelmed him with speed? Then the technique would be useless.

That did not mean it was the wrong path. It suited Encrid very well. Besides, he could already glimpse the potential for further development.

After swinging the wooden sword through the air a few more times, Encrid tossed it aside and began the Isolation Technique.

"Train."

It had worked easily on Lierban because his wrists were insufficiently trained, but what about Rem or Ragna? As it stood, it would not work easily on Audin either.

Well, leaving all that aside, it was tremendous fun. Encrid had never before brought a technique to life after only one night of deliberation.

Was this what it meant for his body to move exactly as he intended? It made every moment almost unbearably delightful. Training itself was more enjoyable than ever.

In truth, Encrid had always enjoyed swinging his sword every day. But did that mean he had never struggled? Even without despair or frustration, there were moments of doubt.

Now, however, there was no room for doubt to intrude, and the smile never left his face.

Watching beside him, Lierban's eyes shook badly.

'Do you have to be mad?'

He could not help thinking it. Before him stood a man who had wrecked his wrist with a few swings, then fetched a boulder from the corner of the training ground and begun squatting with it on his back.

And he was smiling as he did it. Whatever delighted him so much, his whole face was lit up.

The Encrid he had known before had been far from normal, but watching him grin like that now, he seemed simply insane.

Yet the sight also made motivation surge within Lierban. Indeed, otherwise he would not be training like this after finishing his shift.

He was no one extraordinary. He did not shirk, he trained diligently, and he practiced on his own every day. He simply was not as mad as the man before him.

Like an ordinary person, he sometimes had a drink after his shift and rested when it was time to rest.

Here, Lierban felt the difference. Not talent or opportunity. It was the difference between someone who did and someone who did not.

The man before him must have spent every day, every moment, like this.

SMACK!

If he lacked resolve...

Lierban slapped both his cheeks.

"Then I just have to knock some into myself!"

His shout was loud enough to make Encrid look over.

"I'll do it. I'll train," Lierban replied.

Had Rem seen him, he would have said Encrid had ruined another man.

Encrid spent the hours from dawn into morning with Lierban, then demonstrated Wavebreak Sword to Rem when he came out.

"Not bad."

For once, Rem began with praise. After facing it himself, he knew how troublesome it was. Merely clashing blades left his wrist numb.

'How does it work?'

After some thought, Rem concluded that the technique wasted far more Will than necessary. Encrid poured out Will in an explosive burst to generate superhuman strength, then used it to force his opponent's wrist to bend to one side.

It employed three elements: technique, timing, and strength.

But wouldn't a vibrating sword be better for this? While helping Encrid with his Review, Rem had heard that he had broken the Aspen bastard's vibrating sword with Crushing Sword.

'No.'

That vibration could be handled with a little know-how, but the technique Encrid had just shown him would develop and change to suit his opponent. That made Encrid's technique more threatening.

Then did he have to fight without letting their weapons touch once? Was that possible? What if he used a spell to send a cloud wolf to tear at him from a distance?

If someone tried nothing but spirit invocation like a cloud wolf against Rem, he would swear at them, ask what the fuck they thought that would do, and charge straight at the caster. He would ignore the wolf's attack and strike its source.

Encrid would do the same.

Taking all that into account, Rem had called it not bad.

"You seem to advance without hesitation, brother."

Audin added his own remark.

There was nothing else in particular to do now. They only had to attend the banquet and return.

A palace banquet would surely be magnificent, but Encrid had never cared for such things. Krais would enjoy it, though.

Had Encrid liked such things, he would already have become a bodyguard serving noblewomen day and night, women who wanted to keep him at their side for his face alone. He was here now precisely because he did not.

Before evening, a servant arrived with clothes fitted for each of them. After some deliberation, Audin dressed as well.

They all wore tailcoat ensembles: Encrid with a purple velvet waistcoat, Audin with a pale blue jacket that reached only to his waist, and Rem with a gray waistcoat.

Tailcoats were much of a muchness, but the other two looked good dressed up.

Servants descended on them and spent hours arranging their hair and straightening their clothes, yet neither lost his temper once. Encrid found that the more remarkable thing.

That evening, just before the three entered the palace banquet hall...

"Am I really supposed to read it like this?"

The servant announcing their arrival stood before them and asked his superior through clenched teeth. Then, steeling himself, he shouted,

"The Lunatic Knight Order has arrived!"

The people filling the banquet hall, talking and whispering noisily, fell silent and turned.

Dozens, hundreds of eyes watched the three men enter.