Attack is the best defense, Encrid thought as he focused on his opponent's entire body.
Rather than just observing, he sought to read the intent behind each movement.
In an instant, it felt like his head and eyes were on fire.
He summoned all his concentration.
His blood vessels bulged, and his pounding pulse reverberated throughout his entire body.
His Focus Point activated with intense clarity.
The opponent moved.
A series of small actions followed.
He interpreted the meaning behind the continuous movements.
Just like understanding the hidden context in seemingly meaningless words, he grasped the flow.
He deciphered what had initially seemed like meaningless actions from his opponent.
How does a Knight's sword move?
He didn't know yet.
The process was difficult to comprehend.
But hadn't he seen it countless times through death?
Hadn't he been frozen in place, unable to move?
Even as Ragna and others died, hadn't they shown him?
And now, he saw it.
A very brief gap, the opening that appeared in the moment between drawing and swinging the sword. It was a separation.
If 'today' hadn't repeated itself, if he hadn't accumulated this repeated experience, he wouldn't have been able to see it.
Even if he sharpened his senses or focused entirely on a single point, this gap wouldn't have been visible.
Encrid aimed for that gap.
He had sharpened his senses and made them extremely sensitive, combining experience and the intense focus that made his blood vessels feel like they were on fire.
The opponent was just about to draw their sword.
Encrid felt as if time had slowed down.
Despite this, he calmly continued his actions.
Just as he had planned, in the premeditated order.
He unleashed the Heart of Great Strength first.
Thud!
As his heart pounded, the blood in his body surged wildly.
Although his physical condition wasn't perfect, this was the best he could do.
Encrid's hand calmly gripped the Gladius, and he twisted his body slightly.
By then, the Knight's sword was almost fully drawn.
A grating sound, like a 'tchick', accompanied it.
He took a breath.
In the slowed-down time, his thoughts flowed quickly.
A fleeting moment of reflection.
The first sword he had created was the Snake Sword.
It was a flowing sword.
The second sword was Lightning Thrust.
A technique imbued with the 'Will of the Moment'.
A sword that embraced the concept of speed.
And then, the third.
'There were no preparatory movements.'
Encrid looked at the Knight's sword.
He had seen it countless times.
He had experienced it through death.
He had observed the opponent's sword swing and pondered its principles.
The flow of power, the shift of the center of gravity, and the following movements.
He had also memorized Ragna's sword.
It was a swift strike.
He didn't know its name, but he had engraved the sword's movements into his mind.
Mimicking the techniques of the Fairies, he read his opponent's intentions.
He read and reread them.
Adding today's repeated experiences to it, the separation of the gap became vividly clear.
'Right before the sword is drawn and swung.'
It couldn't be too fast or too slow.
All eyes were on him.
Ragna's pupils dilated in silent surprise.
It seemed as if his Commander's movements and the stranger's movements were overlapping.
Sinar's gaze wasn't any different.
'What...?'
It was happening before anyone could even comprehend the situation.
Dunbachel and Krais couldn't grasp what was happening, and Esther was just starting to get up, bristling her fur.
Amidst the strange silence, the intruder drew his sword, and Encrid exuded a mysterious aura.
Regardless of whether anyone's attention was on him, Encrid did what needed to be done.
'It cannot be blocked.'
That was Encrid's conclusion.
If it couldn't be blocked, then what should be done?
If blocking wasn't possible, how about attacking first?
He hadn't tried it, but he saw the possibility.
The image of him failing to block Ragna's sword, with blood on his hands, was still vivid.
At that moment, even while dying, a bolt of realization struck him.
Sword, Knight, power, defense, failure.
All of it came together to form a single answer.
'If I can't block it…'
He would strike first.
Encrid revealed his third sword.
It was a Heavy sword Technique, based on the Middle Sword Technique.
He added his Will to the Middle Sword Technique.
It was a will he was familiar with due to countless encounters—Intimidation.
Though he couldn't fully master Intimidation, he had honed it enough to blend it with his swordsmanship.
It was a swordsmanship that had shocked Ragna before.
Of course, today was different, and Ragna would be shocked anew.
He also mixed in techniques from the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.
Ordinarily, advancing began with a forward step, but Encrid stepped to the side instead.
The Knight's eyes flicked downward toward his feet.
'What...?'
It didn't matter, but it was enough to make the Knight curious.
Though the Knight's sword didn't slow down, a gap in his thoughts was created.
Encrid targeted that moment.
Thump.
He pushed off the ground.
He moved his left foot to the side and put strength into his right foot behind him.
It was the Valen Mercenary Sword, the Cross Step.
The better the opponent's eyesight, the more distracted they would be by this movement.
It was footwork designed to poke and prod at the smallest openings, to increase the chance of success, even by a little.
'Speed alone won't be enough.'
You already know, don't you?
So, instead of relying on speed, he'll go with momentum.
Encrid's ploy worked.
The Knight didn't falter, but neither did his sword fly toward him.
Encrid had stolen the timing and advanced forward.
Ching!
He drew his sword and held it upright.
In that position, he emitted pressure based on his Will and Intimidation.
The Knight instinctively moved his sword.
His years of training urged him.
You have to block this.
The third sword technique—The Crushing Sword.
Like a mountain pressing down on the earth, or a finger squashing an ant, it exerts oppression and pressure.
Using this pressure as a base, it eliminates the opponent's choices.
In other words, it forces them to block.
It was slower than the Lightning Thrust delivered with Ember.
But the momentum, based on Encrid's Will, applied enough pressure to the Knight.
Knight Jamal hadn't let his guard down, but he hadn't anticipated this.
No, he couldn't have.
Who would have expected this?
For someone to tear through the tent, steal their timing, and then strike with a powerful blow from a heavy sword?
The drawing speed was slow.
But afterward, it gained relative speed.
The sword, moving quickly enough, traced a path that forced the Knight to block.
Even so, the Knight wasn't easily overcome.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Instinctively, the Knight's sword vibrated and parried the descending sword.
Woong.
The sound of the sword rang out in an instant—too brief to even describe as a moment.
A sound Encrid couldn't hear.
He was already focused, putting all his strength into the strike.
He had used up all his energy, leaving nothing to think of for what came next.
Bang!
An explosion echoed.
Crack!
The sound of bones twisting followed.
Encrid felt a sensation of weightlessness.
From the worn-out shortsword that he could've broken with his bare hands, he experienced an incredible rebound force.
With that weightlessness came a 'whoosh', as his body flew backward.
A 'thud' struck his back, followed by pain.
It burned.
It was because he had been flung into a brazier.
Encrid rolled to the side.
"Ah!"
Krais, startled, let out a brief scream.
Flames rose from the overturned brazier beside him.
Although it took some time to explain, the whole incident happened within a very short span.
A man had torn through the tent, uttered something, and immediately started fighting.
Encrid's head drooped to the side.
It was only for a moment, but his consciousness had slipped.
It was right after Encrid had fallen.
Whoosh.
Ragna reacted.
At the same moment, Krais let out a startled sound,
"Ah!"
Bang!
The second explosion rang out.
The sound came from the Knight swinging his sword upwards toward Ragna, who had demonstrated the Lightning Strike technique.
Ragna was also flung backward.
Though he was airborne, unlike Encrid, he didn't roll to the side.
He planted his sword into the ground as he retreated.
With a 'thunk', the sword stuck into the ground, creating a sharp, dragging sound.
"Huff."
Ragna took a short breath.
He could tell with one strike.
This opponent was not below him.
Meanwhile, instead of charging, Sinar struck the burning Encrid's back with a blanket.
A few smacks, and the flames were quickly extinguished.
A cracking sound came from Ragna's sword.
It was on the verge of breaking after just one strike.
Ragna discarded the sword he was holding and drew another one.
It was the weapon Squire Bill used.
Though the quality of the weapon was inferior to that of Aya the Knight's, it had a length and weight more familiar to Ragna.
Shing.
He drew the sword and aimed it.
He steadied his breathing and lifted his knee off the ground, adjusting his stance.
Ragna prepared for battle.
"Stop."
Encrid, still lying down, spoke.
The Knight's eyes shifted toward him.
Ragna halted his step, just as he was about to charge forward.
Sinar quietly stepped back, placing her hand on her sword, Naidil.
Anyone could see it at a glance.
'Unbelievable.'
Could such a feat really be achieved with an old shortsword on the verge of breaking?
The fact that this was possible meant that his body housed a strength beyond mere muscle.
In other words, this man was a Knight.
"You don't seem like someone who should be here."
Sinar said.
The Knight remained silent.
He quietly stared at the man who had struck him so suddenly.
Before the burns on Encrid's back could even heal, he was once again scorched by the flames.
Since it wasn't magical armor, there was no way for it to protect him from the heat.
Naturally, his back had been burned.
Luckily, it wasn't a severe injury.
Sinar had extinguished the flames quickly, after all.
But other injuries were far worse than his back.
'Like a Giant.'
Both of his shoulders had been dislocated.
And it didn't stop there.
Though the Crushing Sword had worked, the Knight's counterattack had been ferocious.
'If I hadn't relaxed my strength at the last moment…'
The dislocations wouldn't have been the only injury.
Both of his hands were torn, and blood was flowing freely.
It was no surprise.
Just before impact, Knight Jamal had activated his special technique, Blade Echo.
A skill that used high-frequency vibrations to add explosive power to his weapon.
The Knight said nothing, while Encrid coughed and sputtered.
He waited in silence.
It was something he had somewhat expected.
Having dreamed of becoming a Knight and admired them, it was only natural for him to know much about them.
Encrid, of course, had collected and heard many stories about Knights, and he understood the honor they spoke of.
It meant he understood what the Knight had said.
"I believe you said once was enough?"
So, he spoke.
The Knight stared at Encrid without a word.
"What was that technique?"
"The Crushing Sword."
"Impressive."
Ping.
The Knight sheathed his sword.
Ragna still gripped his sword, its tip pointed forward.
Encrid stood up using only the strength of his legs, and when his dislocated shoulders made it impossible to lift his arms, he swung his arms around, using his waist as leverage, and placed his hand on Ragna's shoulder.
It was painful and almost acrobatic, but it wasn't entirely impossible.
"Don't challenge him today."
Encrid spoke.
Ragna quietly stepped back.
His talent was one that earned him the title of a genius.
He, too, understood.
The opponent was a Knight.
To put it bluntly, if he fought now, it would mean certain death—without a doubt.
"What is your name?"
Encrid asked.
"Jamal."
The man replied without hesitation.
"Are you with the Aspen Royal Knights?"
"That's right."
He couldn't hide it.
Unless he intended to break his word and kill them all right now, there was no point in withholding his affiliation.
If he couldn't do that, he had no reason to hesitate in revealing his identity.
It was a Knight's duty to be forthright wherever he went.
He had spoken with the minimum decorum, and since his opponent had accepted it, he was bound to uphold his remaining honor and integrity.
That was what it meant to be a Knight.
"It was an honor."
Encrid said.
No matter how the situation was unfolding, he was sincere.
Jamal's eyes gleamed with curiosity.
Who is this man?
And what exactly is happening right now?
Despite the absurdity of it all, Jamal couldn't help but laugh.
"An honor?"
He unintentionally echoed the word with a chuckle.
"It's not every day one gets to face the sword of a Knight."
"But you were the first to swing your sword."
"I thought I'd be in trouble if I waited."
Is it that he has a good instinct, or is his judgment sharp?
Or perhaps it's just luck?
Was it like stepping backward and catching a mouse by chance?
Did the Goddess of luck truly bless him?
Jamal couldn't stop laughing, caught off guard by the situation.
There had been no tension from the start.
Now, even his intent to kill had dissipated.
Without the desire to kill, the man standing before him seemed far too ordinary to be considered a Knight.
"I trusted you to honor my word because you spoke of honor. You will go far."
Jamal said.
Jamal was a Knight. Naturally, he could recognize talent in others. He could assess not only current skill but also the potential for growth.
At the moment, the most striking figure was the blonde man with red eyes—Ragna—who caught the eye at first glance.
But sometimes, beyond talent, there were people who possessed something indescribable, something that couldn't be put into words. The man standing before him was one such person.
"We will meet again."
Jamal said.
With this turn of events, he felt more at ease.
He had made a promise on his honor, and he intended to keep it.
Even Avnair wouldn't be able to object.
After all, he had agreed to just one strike.
"It was an honor."
Standing upright, Encrid felt the throbbing pain in his thigh and calf muscles.
It seemed that every time he crossed the ferryman's wall of agony, ignorance, and despair, his body barely made it through.
"Attack is the best defense—you did well."
Jamal said, seemingly finished with what he had to say, and turned to leave.
"...You're just going to let him go?"
Dunbachel asked, looking uneasy.
"What, do you want to fight him? Unless you're desperate to die, we have to let him go. Actually, we should probably even show him the way out."
Krais responded to that statement, shuddering as he spoke.
He knew how terrifying the strength the opponent possessed was—he could sense it instinctively.
"Ah, Krais, I have a feeling we shouldn't cause any more commotion. Could you guide him out?"
Encrid said, and Krais' eyes widened.
"What? Seriously?"
"A Knight's sword is safer than a thug's dagger."
"Do you realize he's the enemy?"
Krais whispered in a low voice.
He was speaking quietly, worried that the Knight might overhear, but even if the Knight did hear, would it really change anything?
Yes, the Aspen Royal Knights were indeed the enemy. He knew that. But today, they had discussed honor.
"Of course. We need to uphold our side of the bargain as well."
They should make sure he leaves peacefully.
Krais wasn't an idiot. If the sentries spotted that Knight and caused a commotion, things would only escalate.
Should he send Dunbachel, or perhaps Ragna? Maybe Sinar?
Since overpowering the Knight was already out of the question, the best option was to have someone capable of thinking rationally escort him out.
Force didn't matter at all here.
The opponent was a Knight.
Krais knew that too.
With a pout, Big Eyes started walking outside.
"Damn it."
Of course, he wasn't without complaints, so he muttered under his breath.
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