Chapter 58 - Once He Had It, He Could See It

There was a time when his life did not even allow him to be greedy.

A life where he dreamed and hoped for it, but knowing it was unattainable, he merely struggled desperately.

That was Encrid's life.

But not anymore. It was okay to bare his desires and lunge forward.

No, rather, it was more advantageous to do so now.

After the warm-up exercises, it was time to briefly learn how to throw a dagger from Jaxon.

"I want to learn more."

"You looked like a beginner, though."

Jaxon muttered after watching him throw the dagger. Encrid answered nonchalantly.

"There was a guy on the battlefield throwing like this. I watched and learned."

Jaxon stared at Encrid with an expressionless face.

"Believe me, it's the truth."

"Is that so?"

Of course.

Wasn't this how geniuses were?

Living as a dullard his whole life, he had seen countless times what geniuses or those with talent did.

Right now, he was pretending to be like that, pretending to be a genius.

It was an act he could pull off because he was repeating today.

Baring his desires meant it was advantageous because he had to stick to this attitude.

What was a genius like?

Knowing that what lay before them was something to be won, they wouldn't hesitate to express their desires.

Above all, he was sincere.

When it came to the desire to learn, Encrid was the greatest in the continent.

"Alright."

It was always the same. His hesitation was short, and what followed was steeped in seriousness. Jaxon taught him properly.

It was quite a fun time.

Encrid repeated the methods of gripping and throwing the dagger.

He was drenched in sweat in a short amount of time.

"Didn't you say you had to go on duty?"

"It's fine."

It was just warming up, not pushing himself to exhaustion.

Today had started anew.

No, to be exact, it was the seventh today.

Instead of keeping Jack and Bo on his left and right, Encrid walked on the far left.

"I feel comfortable standing on the far left, it's a jinx."

When Encrid stepped up and said this, what could they do?

Jack and Bo had nothing to say.

"Is that so? Well, that's odd."

"Yes, stand wherever you feel comfortable."

His sweat quickly cooled, but the heat warming his body remained.

It was a today repeated seven times, but the air felt strangely different.

The beating sunlight pierced the cold wind and touched his skin. The chirping of winter birds brushed his ears.

The sensation of stepping on the dirt and the vibration of the ground felt with every step were nice.

The air, the ground, the dirt, the wind.

They all wrapped around his body, brushed past him, warmed him, lingered, and flowed away.

The sky was also clear.

The bitter cold—winter, the fourth of the four seasons—had arrived to announce the end of the year, bringing a bone-chilling cutting wind.

But even that wind brought freshness rather than cold.

In the repeating today, he had always endured with fierce determination.

But somehow, he felt a little relaxed today. Tranquility wrapped around his body.

It wasn't that he forgot his fierce determination.

He just felt comfortable. This path he was walking, this moment, everything.

'Why is my mind at ease?'

He didn't know. He knew he was going to die soon.

Even though the moment was approaching where he would have to struggle against that pain and death.

Even though dying never became familiar, feeling like the first time no matter how many times he did it.

["The throw is an instant; before that, you relax your entire body. Let your whole body hang loose and concentrate amidst tranquility. It will be difficult."]

Jaxon's words were only half right.

It was indeed difficult, but not to the point of giving up.

It was difficult, but doable.

Boldness; the ability granted by the Heart of a Beast.

Boldness allowed him to watch everything to the end even with death right before his eyes.

Concentrate One, Concentrate on a Single Point made him perceive the same situation differently than ever before.

Thus, the combination of boldness and concentration allowed Encrid to grasp the very edge of talent.

Normally, he wouldn't have been able to obtain such boldness and concentration this way, but the current Encrid possessed these two threads.

'It works.'

Just a few teachings and a few repetitions.

His body learned it with just three or four repeated training sessions. It was largely thanks to luck.

Something he normally wouldn't have grasped even after countless repetitions was now in his hands.

That thin thread was the greatest joy to Encrid.

It was an unprecedented euphoria.

"Are you alright?"

Bo asked from his side. Walking with a blank face and grinning like that, he definitely wouldn't have looked normal.

It was a relief he wasn't drooling.

"Ah, well, I'm fine. I must have looked foolish."

Encrid wiped his mouth for no reason as he walked.

Watching his light steps, Jack and Bo exchanged glances.

Jack asked with a look.

'I think this bastard has gone slightly crazy?'

'Looks like it to me too.'

The two conversed solely through glances and hand gestures. It was a familiar practice.

They were hand signals they used since their days in the Thieves Guild.

"The weather is nice."

Encrid said.

"It's freezing to death, though?"

Jack said, pouting his lips. Normally, he was supposed to induce carelessness by flattering the target as much as possible, but seeing the opponent already so relaxed before he could even try any tricks naturally sparked a sense of rebellion.

He truly wondered what was up with this bastard.

"Of course it's cold. It's the final season of the four."

Winter was harsh. But one shouldn't let the harshness and cold trick them into missing its charm.

Relaxing the body wasn't something achieved simply by repeating it in one's head.

Jaxon's demonstration came to mind.

And overlapping that was the Half Fairy assassin.

To relax the body, the mind must relax first.

Mental burden, threats, and anxiety.

Encrid threw all of that away.

In his relaxed mind, the scene of the Half Fairy throwing the Whistle Dagger replayed endlessly.

That was, in truth, no different from the repetition of today.

What did one learn from defeat?

What had he learned in a situation where he threw his life away countless times?

He had passed the stage where he absolutely had to throw away his life to gain something.

He repeated the question endlessly. Meanwhile, thanks to his moderately relaxed body and mind, his steps were somewhat loose and swaying.

He was walking, but there was no strictness for patrol duty.

Walking like that, he soon found himself at the market.

"Hey, Squad Leader, what's got you in such a good mood?"

Jack stopped and asked. He probably wasn't genuinely curious. It was obvious he was subtly twisting his body as he asked.

Bo also took a step. Both of them shifted into positions to apply pressure.

Properly blocking the surrounding gazes, they turned their bodies toward Encrid so they could draw their blades and stab him at any moment.

Keeping the two in his line of sight, Encrid steadied his breathing just once.

And then he extended his foot.

He lightly tapped Jack's shin with his toe.

He thought his body and mind were relaxed, but his body moved exactly as he intended better than ever before.

It was a kick with a bizarre timing that left the opponent unable to respond in any way.

SMACK.

"Ugh!"

Struck in the shin, Jack bowed his head. Lightly—with a motion so light that the word 'brisk' naturally came to mind—Encrid pressed down on the back of Jack's head with his left hand and drove his knee up.

THUMP!

The sound of slamming dough burst out. The struck Jack's head flew back up. His face was revealed, ruined with blood from a broken bridge of his nose.

"Fuck, I can't sell it at that price!"

It was a beat faster than originally intended. It was a movement completely separate from the plan he had made for today. It wasn't intentional. He was just moving where his body took him.

'Does it matter?'

Encrid paid it no mind.

It felt like he had gulped down a heavy dose of a drug that dulled the mind and induced euphoria.

Even if he had actually taken a drug, it wouldn't have mattered. His body was just that light.

"What the—!"

He saw Bo's surprise. Before he knew it, Encrid's hand was heading for the startled Bo's nape.

"Tch!"

Startled, Bo pulled his neck back. It was exactly as expected.

Whenever he capitalized on the thrill of a surprise attack, Bo always reacted with a single pattern.

He had already seen that pattern more than five times.

He was used to it.

Instead of his outstretched left hand, Encrid planted his left foot on the ground and twisted his body in the opposite direction.

He pivoted on his left foot and spun.

Rather than facing forward, he twisted to the side and threw his right hand out.

In an instant, his arm's reach extended, and his right hand connected with the retreating Bo's face.

And simply connecting was by no means the end of it.

BAM!

The snappy punch produced the sound of a leather drum bursting. Fueled by physical strength, speed, and concentration, Encrid's fist smashed Bo's face as well.

"Gah!"

Clutching his face, Bo staggered back three or four steps.

Watching that, Encrid smoothly turned his body back around. Was it because he started a little early? He didn't know.

Just because it was a repeating today didn't mean the exact same things always happened.

Everything was subject to change.

Encrid knew that very well.

Where he was looking, he saw the Half Fairy. The bastard's hand moved without even taking off his rags.

From bottom to top.

A streak of light flew out, following the right hand.

He hadn't prepared any separate defensive measures.

However.

'Does it matter?'

In that instant, time slowed down.

For Encrid, it was his second time experiencing this.

It was the moment when concentration broke its limits.

The gap in time that those who entered the realm of genius would face countless times.

A similar sensation had shined through when he deflected the strike of the mustached soldier on the final battlefield against Aspen.

It was the same now.

Of course, Encrid didn't realize it.

His mind was still half-entranced.

His entranced mind, his burning concentration, his Sense of the Blade, the boldness of a beast.

He saw the streak of light. They allowed him to predict its destination.

'Can I dodge it?'

No. There was no time for that. The split gap in time was closing. Encrid's rapidly spinning brain produced an answer.

THWACK! SCREEEEECH!

He blocked with his arm. The blade embedded itself in his left arm, which was guarding his heart.

The moment he thought he heard the noise scattered by the Whistle Dagger, pain flared in his forearm.

A heavy impact and the burning agony inflicted by the blade.

Even the pain felt distant.

The surrounding commotion sounded faintly far away.

Once he saw it, he wanted it.

Once he had it, he could see it.

The trajectory of the Whistle Dagger was visible to Encrid's eyes.

That was how he blocked it.

He lifted his head and looked at the enemy. Having thrown off his rags at some point, the Half Fairy was moving his hands relentlessly.

He was like a living repeating crossbow.

No, he was even fiercer than that.

He couldn't dodge the first one. But this time, he could dodge them.

He saw the starting point of the hands and predicted the end points of the flying streaks of light.

SWOOOOOOOSH!

He perfectly dodged two, and one grazed his cheek.

The Whistle Daggers' three cries combined to create a strange harmony.

Having dodged them all, Encrid pulled out the dagger embedded in his forearm.

Blood flowed from his forearm, but it wasn't to the point where he couldn't move.

He hadn't been hit where the opponent aimed; Encrid had blocked it with the spot he wanted.

Thanks to that, a blade mark was left on his arm, but it wasn't to the extent of immobilizing him.

The leather armor strapped to his forearm also did its job.

"This bastard."

Full of anger, the Half Fairy closed the distance. As he closed in, he continued to pour out streaks of light, who knew where he hid them on his body.

He couldn't dodge all of them.

No, still, he could have held out longer.

Today was different from any other day.

Before he knew it, Rotten had approached from behind. Encrid failed to notice him in time.

Rotten shoved Encrid's back.

THUD.

That was the end of it. Vomiting noise, three daggers lodged themselves into him—one in the heart, one in the side, and one in the neck.

A terrible pain washed over him.

Encrid's body slowly collapsed. Squeezing out his strength, he dropped one knee to the ground with a thud to hold himself up, but with a gurgle, something hot regurgitated from deep inside his throat. Unable to hold it back, he opened his mouth, and bloody foam spilled out.

AHHHHHH!

Only then did the surrounding screams properly pierce his ears.

His hazy mind returned to normal. He began to feel the pain vividly.

The Half Fairy assassin approached the fallen Encrid.

His expression was far from good.

"You."

He spat out a single word and didn't continue.

Persistent Lovers do not miss their prey.

It was time for him to say that phrase. But he didn't. No, he couldn't.

The assassin's eyes turned to Encrid's face.

"This bastard."

Then he glared, his eyes bulging like a venomous toad.

Encrid was smiling.

"Guh, guh."

Even while vomiting bloody foam, he laughed.

There was bound to be a misunderstanding here.

The Fairy felt the opponent was mocking him, but Encrid had no such intention at all.

Thinking about it as he died.

'Only seven times.'

He had repeated today seven times.

But he didn't just see a breakthrough; he saw completely beyond it.

Only seven times.

No, he couldn't call it 'only'.

It was something he could do because he knew no despair or frustration, because he ran looking solely at tomorrow.

His insignificant talent forged a man who endlessly put in effort.

And that endless effort allowed a man to grasp the edge of talent.

It was a miracle. No, there was no such thing as a miracle.

This was simply a reward earned because he didn't harbor frustration or despair in any single day within the repeated today.

One day, in the today that would happen again.

Encrid believed he could end this.

"Crazy bastard."

THWACK!

With a long, extended blade right in front of his nose, the Fairy pierced Encrid's neck once more.

That was the end. It was the moment of his death.

Death approached, and darkness overturned the world.

Beyond the darkness, the Boatswain riding the river was visible.

HEHEHEH!

He was mocking Encrid again.

Encrid was quite curious about the next time he would meet the Boatswain.

How exactly would that mockery change?

* * *

"Good morning."

The morning he opened his eyes again.

Encrid got up lightly.

He couldn't call it perfect, but he had learned how to throw the Whistle Dagger.

Also, though he couldn't call it perfect, he had learned the monk's basic gymnastics from Audin.

"It's freezing to death, so what's so good about it?"

"Because I had a good dream."

It was a very, truly very good dream.

It was a day spent with a hazy mind.

That day, that today.

Encrid had caught a glimpse of the life of someone with talent.

He was more than satisfied.

At the same time, he also saw the path forward.

The path forward; meaning, the method to overcome the wall blocking his way.