Chapter 73 - Because I Trained Every Moment (2)

The attackers' methods were too similar to those of thieves. Their main weapons were black-painted daggers, crossbows, and throwing knives.

'Good grief.'

However, their skills were much worse.

'They don't even seem to be on the level of the Gilfin Guild.'

"He dodged it?"

The fact that they blurted that out in surprise when he dodged the dagger showed they didn't have the air of professionals.

Assassination wasn't their main specialty in the first place.

Encrid twirled the dagger he had snatched from the dead opponent's hand.

He flicked his finger to reposition the knife, pinched the blade between his thumb and index finger, and extended his arm forward.

The series of movements brought about a result.

The dagger flew with a *thwack* and embedded itself into the forehead of a masked attacker. The ambusher's body fell backward, collapsing just as the blade hit his forehead.

With a *thud*, his head slammed into the floor, and red blood began to stream across the inn's floor.

"Uwaaah!"

A few citizens who were just grabbing a bite to eat at the inn ran outside screaming. The waiter and waitress carrying food had already hidden under a table.

The ambush brought screams.

The screams caused a commotion, but.

Encrid's group didn't have a single scratch on them.

"... Kill them all!"

One of the attackers shouted.

"It's an ambush! Fight back!"

"Grab your weapons!"

The merchant association's escorts also signaled their counterattack. They each drew their weapons.

The sound of blades scraping against scabbards rang out with a *clang*.

Hearing that, Encrid didn't forget that this was an escort mission.

"I'll go."

Saying that to the Fairy Company Commander, Encrid turned around.

Someone had to secure the safety of their escort target.

If the first floor was in this much chaos, problems must have arisen upstairs as well.

Though there were close-quarters escorts attached to them.

'If something happens here, it's on us too.'

He was practically curious about what kind of lunatic had instigated this.

To ambush a merchant association escorted by regular soldiers within the Border Guard.

Encrid headed straight upstairs. There wasn't a single person blocking him on the way.

It made sense.

Because Jaxon was blocking the way.

He picked up a chair and swung it like a shield, blocking all the incoming daggers.

The chair quickly turned into a metaphysical work of art. It was a wooden chair with daggers and quarrels stuck all over it.

When throwing didn't work, some approached holding short swords or clubs.

Whenever they entered his range, Jaxon swung his sword, separating their souls from their bodies one by one with a single strike.

It was neatness itself.

He blocked and slashed; the trajectory of his blade was ordinary, yet his opponents failed to block it every time.

CLANG!

One person barely managed to block it, but Jaxon had swung his sword with a snap strike to begin with, and he extended the deflected sword like lightning to thrust it into the opponent's face.

With a *crack*, the opponent's nasal bone broke and a new hole formed on the bridge of his nose as he collapsed, and Jaxon pulled out his sword to begin the same work anew.

He blocked incoming daggers with the chair and slashed approaching opponents with his sword. He was several times better at throwing daggers than Encrid, but he didn't utilize that skill.

There was no need to.

"Fuck, what the hell is this bastard?"

Jaxon didn't answer. What conversation would he have with guys who were about to die?

While Jaxon drew their attention, the Fairy Company Commander stepped right into the middle of the attackers.

The Nidle was drawn from her waist.

As the leaf blade danced, the attackers began collapsing while clutching their necks.

She slashed and slashed again.

Drops of blood splattered in the air. A painting made of blood was vividly drawn on her face and body as well.

There was no one who could react to the nimble Fairy's movements. This was not a group gathered with experts of that caliber.

"I'm disappointed if this is it."

The Fairy spoke while taking a stance, keeping only one foot on the ground and lifting the other leg two spans high, as if aiming the leaf blade at her opponent. It looked as though she was right about to dance.

It was a clear and cheerful voice, but to those listening, she must have seemed like the Demon Lord of the Underworld.

One of the masked guys backed away without realizing it.

"Fuuuck."

One of the remaining guys said with a tearful face. It was a mutter from one of the ambushers.

The leader of the group that ambushed the first floor thought to himself.

'As long as we achieve the objective anyway.'

They had stalled for enough time. Whether the operation on the second floor succeeded or not, stalling any longer here would mean certain death.

The escorts' skills were several times better than he had expected.

Did they bring the entirety of the Frontier Slaughterers or something?

He didn't know. He didn't need to know either. He believed his job was done. It was time to pull out.

"Kill them all!"

The leader shouted that and ran toward the door. He intended to slip away while his subordinates bought time. He considered the operation a success.

"Glory to Aspen!"

One of the remaining subordinates cried out. Leaving the shout behind him, the leader fled.

They were the remnants of the spies left in the city.

They threw away their lives for their country and honor.

Though the leader was just doing it for the money.

Wasn't loyalty cultivated to be used at times like this anyway?

Jaxon, who was carefully watching the fleeing leader's back, placed a hand on a thin blade hidden at his waist before taking it off.

'It's a pointless act.'

Since it didn't seem like killing that one guy would change anything.

It wasn't like a disaster would happen if he let him get away here.

Jaxon turned his head and continued what he was doing.

Brutally butchering and killing the enemies rushing at him.

The role of a gatekeeper blocking the stairs leading to the second floor.

Considering his usual attitude, it wasn't a very fitting job for him.

But purely looking at the skills of those gathered in the inn's main hall, he was second only to the Fairy Company Commander, so no one could get past Jaxon.

Even while excitedly swinging the Nidle, the Fairy Company Commander glanced back occasionally.

The skills of the squadmate blocking the front stood out more than Encrid, who had gone up the stairs.

'He really shines.'

The troublemaker squad, was it?

A squadmate who is actually more outstanding than the Squad Leader.

It wasn't like such cases didn't exist at all, but the difference in skill here was distinct.

'At least city-class.'

The soldier grading system was a system created by Naurilia.

If you looked broadly out into the continent, skill levels were expressed in different ways.

That was more familiar to the Company Commander, who had lived a nomadic lifestyle.

Village, city, continent.

Among these, they would debate whether it was a large village or a small city, and for the continent, whether it meant a specific region or the entire continent.

But this was the basic structure.

Was it a skill level that could make a name for itself in a single village?

Or was it a skill level where one could sell their name in a single city?

What level did one have to be to make a name for themselves across the entire continent?

By her standards, a continent-class powerhouse was at least a knight-level powerhouse.

It was difficult without awakening the 'power' they wielded.

Excluding swindlers who hired wandering minstrels to sell their names, that is.

"This is fun."

She muttered.

From the attackers' side, specifically from the perspective of the one who had just lost all four fingers on his right hand trying to block the Nidle, it was a horrifying sound.

"Urrgh, what?"

The man who lost his fingers said, shedding tears. The Fairy Company Commander wordlessly struck the back of the opponent's head with the Nidle's pommel.

THWACK.

He fainted. Should she stop the bleeding on his hand?

No, it shouldn't matter.

If he died, she would just leave him dead.

There were plenty of mouths to testify anyway. She hadn't killed all of them. The same went for Jaxon.

Among them, they didn't kill a few who looked young and seemed like they had loose lips; they only slashed their thighs or knocked them out.

She had also spared the guy who first shouted Aspen.

They would be useful in many ways.

'What about upstairs?'

As the Fairy fought, she cast a portion of her attention upstairs. Her hearing opened up, informing her of the situation above.

She gave a peculiar smile.

'This is fun.'

The thought kept coming to her.

Was it when she was young, when she first received the Nidle?

She felt like she had been this happy back then too.

Along with her thoughts, the Fairy's Nidle moved once again.

Before they knew it, the number of attackers had been cut in half.

* * *

Encrid went up the stairs leading to the second floor, taking two steps at a time.

He bounded up the steps with a *hup, hup*, and his body felt light.

'The isolation technique.'

It had definitely brought about a change in his body. Audin said it was slow, but Encrid himself felt the difference distinctly.

That his body was lighter than before.

The moment he stepped onto the second-floor hallway, an assassin wielding a sword dropped down from above his head.

His level was lower than the assassins he had faced previously.

Because his presence was caught so clearly it was almost visible.

He swiftly twisted his body in the narrow hallway. As he dodged by pressing closely against the wall, the sword-wielding opponent dropped flat onto the floor.

The fallen opponent's eyes met Encrid's.

Encrid grasped his longsword's grip with his right hand and half-bent his knees. It was the draw stance of the Heavy Sword Technique.

The opponent who fell to the floor regained his balance and held his short sword perpendicular to the ground.

It was an excellent defensive posture for blocking the draw of the Heavy Sword Technique by attempting to stop a horizontal slash.

But it was a terrible stance to block the vertical slash that originated from Encrid's left hand.

SMACK!

He deceived the opponent with his right hand and stance, and slashed down with the short sword he had secretly drawn in his left hand, as if splitting his crown.

It was the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique's dual draw.

The deceived opponent's eyeballs trembled.

But he couldn't say anything. Because the dead tell no tales.

"Are you crazy? Where do you think this is, hiring assassins?"

A woman's voice could be heard.

"Where are you looking!"

Another woman's voice was also heard.

Encrid leaped over the corpse and began running down the narrow hallway.

He saw a room with its door half open.

And the masked thug blocking the front of it.

"Stupid fools."

The guy looked at the rushing Encrid. He whipped his hand. With a *zing*, a throwing knife flew toward him.

Compared to a Whistle Dagger, it didn't even have a quarter of the speed.

The boldness granted by the Heart of a Beast allowed him to look directly at the incoming flying blade.

The concentration ignited by Concentrate on a Single Point made the flying blade appear to move slowly.

On top of that, the Sense of the Blade added itself to the mix, reading the trajectory of the flying blade.

Because the muscles and agility to support all these processes were now attached to his body.

Encrid simply tilted his head to the side.

In the past—that is, before he started repeating today—it was a movement he couldn't even imagine. He had thought of it only as an acrobatic trick.

To dodge an incoming flying blade just by tilting his head.

Actually, hadn't he been forced to raise a shield on the battlefield because he couldn't dodge the arrows from that guy called The Claw of the Hawk or whatever?

If it were now, he felt like he could even dodge those arrows.

Only the *swoosh* of the projectile flying past lingered by his ear.

As he dodged with just a tilt of his head and lunged forward, his opponent's eyes widened. He was surprised. Even so, the opponent moved his hand. It seemed he intended to throw another dagger.

Encrid, who feigned a charge by raising the short sword in his left hand, swung his right arm once.

WHIIINE.

Along the trajectory his arm swung, a whistle rang out.

As the Whistle Dagger pierced the opponent's neck.

"Gurgk."

Blood burst from his neck, and bloody foam spilled from his mouth. The guy reflexively finished the motion he was making.

He threw the dagger in his hand. However, since he was already dying, there was no strength behind it, and it just fell to the floor with a *clatter*.

Dodging and throwing—all these movements had occurred within a few breaths.

Without slowing his running speed, Encrid slammed his shoulder into the guy with the pierced neck and sent him flying to the side.

SMACK, WHOOSH, CRASH!

As the guy who went flying crashed into a door in the opposite hallway, a startled yelp came from inside.

This was an inn. Naturally, there were people staying here.

It might not be broad daylight, but to stage such an ambush in the middle of the city, and at an inn no less.

The opponents were unusually bold.

Or they were all complete morons and idiots.

"Gwaaah!"

It was the moment he kicked open the open door and stepped into the room, right after taking care of one guy.

He saw the merchant association's escort get stabbed in the stomach and collapse.

The opponent who had stabbed the escort in the stomach, a masked guy, pulled out his sword and was about to slash the escort target just like that.

A momentary gap.

A Whistle Dagger flew from Encrid's hand.

WHINE! CLANG!

Because he was in such a rush, he hadn't thrown it with full power, but the Whistle Dagger did its job. Because the opponent flinched while blocking it.

Encrid ran in as he threw it.

The opponent didn't bother dealing with the rushing Encrid.

Instead, he swung the sword that had blocked the Whistle Dagger at the escort target, the young lady of the merchant association, once again.

'Fucking bastard.'

Encrid cursed the tenacious assassin. Because there was no other way.

In an instant, he imitated the movement of the Squire he had seen on the battlefield.

Naturally, he couldn't pull it off exactly. He didn't have that kind of talent.

But it was a short distance. It wasn't a very spacious room—just a bed and a couple pieces of furniture.

Since it was a cramped space, it was worth trying to imitate it at least.

He lowered his stance and kicked off the ground. He closed the gap in a single breath. Thinking that drawing and throwing another Whistle Dagger wouldn't be enough to stop the opponent, Encrid threw his body.

THWACK!

As Encrid inserted himself between the sword and the escort target like that, the blade flew in and struck his back.

His gambeson was sliced open, and the blade cut all the way through, slicing his lower back.

Encrid reflexively twisted his waist, deflecting the sword that struck his body.

The escort target entered the eyes of Encrid, who had blocked the blade with his body.

He had expected startled eyes and a pale complexion, but instead, he saw a resolute-looking woman tightly clenching her teeth.

It was an escort mission. What was a mission?

It was an assigned task. Meaning it was something he naturally had to do.

Because he had taken the sword with his back, Encrid endured the impact entirely with his body.

At the same time, he expressed his gratitude to Audin inwardly.

'Thank you. Audin.'

["How to take a hit properly, that is the priority."]

He had said it was the foundation of wrestling. To deflect the force while getting hit, a blade deflection done with the body.

When he was learning it, he felt like he was going to die.

But now that he had learned it, it was coming in handy like this.

"Hold on a moment."

Encrid said as he pushed the young lady of the merchant association with his hand.

"Mmph!"

Instead of screaming, the young lady held her breath. She seemed like a strong-willed type.

"This bastard?"

The ambusher, realizing the situation, glared at Encrid while holding a gladius, a sword with a thick blade.

"Shall we head downstairs and talk?"

Encrid said as he turned around, and then immediately lunged forward.

The opponent's blade thrust straight toward the space between his eyebrows, but.

Encrid hadn't even dreamed that his experience facing Whistle Daggers would be this helpful.

It was a thrust slower than a Whistle Dagger.

He dodged, lowered his stance drastically, and wrapped his palms around the backs of his opponent's thighs.

Just like that, he lifted the opponent up from below and dashed toward the window.

CRASH, CRACK.

The wooden frame shattered, and the window broke. Encrid and the assassin plummeted straight out of the second floor.