Chapter 258 - On How to Handle Idiots (3)

"What, you think you're the only one who's busy?" Encrid stared at the dwarf and blinked twice. There was a discrepancy between the situation he remembered and the present. He checked his body first. He was ravenous, as though he hadn't eaten for days, and his muscles trembled as though he had overworked them. His vision was blurry, too. That was fatigue affecting his eyesight. Not ordinary fatigue, either. He felt as if he'd spent days climbing a mountain without food or sleep. His body was that heavy. The extreme exhaustion left his whole body feeling drained. He could barely put strength into his hands. He had trained his body to swing a sword for two days without sleep. It made no sense for him to be in this state. "How long has it been?" Encrid asked, clenching and unclenching his fist. The strain on his body was unmistakable. "... You're as shameless as a pointy-ear." The girl-like dwarf curled her lips in disbelief. Encrid didn't need an answer from her. He could see Rem and Ragna behind her. Rem spoke first, picking his ear. "A little over three days. Have fun?" "Was it good?" asked Ragna, watching with his arms crossed. Their questions came without a moment's pause, and Encrid examined his condition again. So, what had happened? The time that had passed like a dream remained in his mind. Every moment, every step had been a revelation. At the end of those steps, he had devoted himself, immersed himself. He had achieved his goal and reached his destination. 'A sword style.'

He had gone and created one. He couldn't properly name it or put it into words yet, but one thing was certain: he had created a Flowing Sword Technique. Those called masters of swordsmanship usually only refined the styles they had learned and passed them down in their twilight years. Even masters with profound knowledge of the sword could do no more than refine what existed. Encrid had created something. THUMP. His heart beat of its own accord. Despite his exhaustion, he could already picture the days he would spend learning and mastering his creation. A smile of ecstasy rose to his lips. "You're smiling? Are you a little cracked?" "Already planning to get him treated when we reach a temple in a bigger territory, dwarf woman." Rem spoke as the dwarf circled a finger beside her ear. Filled with joy and exhilaration, Encrid didn't answer him. "Just happy as can be, aren't you?" Rem jeered, but Encrid didn't hear that either. Watching him, Ragna nodded to himself.

"It was good, then." The girl-like dwarf was a wanderer who roamed the continent. She had seen the world for more than a decade, yet even for her, this was a rare experience. Quite apart from their talents and dispositions, these people, including the human called Encrid, were pure lunatics.

* * *

Apparently, the dwarf had arrived a day before he came out of his trance, but they hadn't let her anywhere near him until then. Once they saw him coming around, they had brought her over because she wouldn't stop complaining. "I told you, just leave the weapons and go." Even at that, the dwarf shook her head.

"I have to take another look at the faces of the bastards who'll use my weapons before I leave. That's my rule." Whenever the girl-like dwarf delivered her work, she made it an ironclad rule to hand it over in person and speak to its recipient. Dwarves sometimes followed their own rules with an almost compulsive dedication. This was one of hers, and the reason she had stayed despite whining about the waste of time. In any case, her complaints soon subsided.

"I see."

Ignoring his exhaustion, Encrid listened attentively to what she had to say. The rest of the company either lounged about, didn't listen, tried to preach divine teachings to her instead, or wouldn't engage with her at all. The one called Krais was at least decent company, but the big-eyed human was so busy she could hardly catch a glimpse of him. Amid all that, Encrid's attentive manner was enough to melt the girl-like dwarf's heart. When it came to listening, his attitude and mindset were the finest on the continent. Her irritation quickly softened under his attention. Her thoroughly unpetty nature helped, too. "Well, at least you're the pleasant sort of madman." With that assessment of Encrid, the dwarf handed over the weapons. The commission had been for two swords and two axes. They lay neatly on a broad piece of leather. She picked one up and spoke. "To be honest, forging isn't my specialty. My real skill lies elsewhere. Still, these should be better than anything some hack could make." Encrid agreed with the dwarf, whose name he still didn't know. She offered him a weapon in a leather sheath, hilt first, and he took it. It had considerable heft. The blade wasn't long, but it was thick, as thick as the guard sword he currently used. It was a little longer than a shortsword—a modified gladius. He drew it from its sheath, and the blade smoothly revealed itself to the world. Its silver body flowed in gentle curves. "Nice lines," Rem said as he watched. That was exactly right. As a woman it would have been a beauty; as a man, a handsome one. It resembled the Fairy Company Commander's Nidle, yet was different. It had heft, and its sturdiness was obvious at a glance. "You've already got one good sword, so I thought this would do nicely as a backup." The dwarf indicated Encrid's original sword at his waist with a glance. She had taken it upon herself to make something he hadn't requested, but she was right. His original sword was worthy of being called a fine blade. It was remarkable that she had recognized that without even drawing it. He found himself thinking that she truly was a dwarf, before all such stray thoughts vanished. Without stopping to rest, Encrid stood in the training ground and swung the new sword a few times. What pleased him most was its balance. It felt perfectly balanced about two finger joints above the hilt. It would make an excellent weapon thrown with the Throwing blade technique, too. "Throw it, cut with it, block, bash. I made it sturdy so you could use it however you like." The dwarf's explanation matched his impression. Both cutting and throwing felt just right in his hand. In particular, its sharp point and elongated upper blade looked well suited to a stab. Encrid tossed the sword into the air, let it turn a few times, and caught it. Its balance was excellent, just as he'd thought. He snatched the hilt and swung it lightly through the air a few times. His casual sword swings were noticeably smoother than before, displaying a new suppleness. Breaking out of his shell had changed him. Of course, few people recognized it. Sword in hand, Encrid nodded in satisfaction. The dwarf watching him was inwardly impressed. 'Well, look at that.'

Someone had burned and ground down that stone again. A change. Such a change, in so little time? 'That's no ordinary talent.' The dwarf was mistaken, understandably so. In truth, countless efforts had accumulated, and their results had happened to burst forth now. But to her, he looked like nothing but a mass of talent. "What about mine?" When Rem urged her from behind, the dwarf tossed him the axes. She threw both at once, and he caught each one precisely by the handle. Naturally, the axes were excellent, too. They made Rem—that ill-tempered Rem—say,

"... Good thing I didn't turn you into a stuffed dwarf back then." For some reason, the girl-like dwarf burst out laughing. What part of that was funny? It gave one reason to question her mental state. Rem examined the two axes, looking them over again and again. The fire axe had a pointed counterweight attached to its end, which looked usable as a weapon for striking with the butt of the handle. As for the other, hadn't she said she'd melted down the centaur leader's entire glaive and used every bit of its iron to make it? "It's heavy. That's what I like about it." That was Rem's honest assessment. Naturally, everyone was satisfied. Ragna, the last to receive his sword, spoke to the dwarf as well.

"Not bad." He had received a northern-style zweihander. A two-handed sword, meant to be gripped and swung with both hands, but its blade was twice as thick as other swords, and both pommel and hilt were oversized. "I gave it a northern finish," the dwarf said with a smile. She had said herself that she wasn't a master craftsperson and forging wasn't her specialty. Still, perhaps it was a trait of her race. Seeing their satisfaction with her weapons, she smiled with pleasure. "Good, that's that. See you again if we get the chance." The girl spoke heartily and turned to leave, then gave Krais one last look. He had come outside at some point to watch the others receive their weapons, and was now gazing blankly at her. "Human boy." Judging by appearances, she was the child, but both the tone and the address suited her remarkably well. "Yes?" "If you become a gemstone someday, I'll give it some thought." Krais nodded without understanding a thing. He didn't know what she meant, but it sounded like she wanted to see him again, so he took it as something good. And with that, the dwarf left. After the young dwarf's departure, everyone's attention turned to Encrid. "Are you feeling all right? What kind of person just swings a sword without even stopping to eat?" Krais asked. "As you can see." His muscles were strained, but he wasn't about to collapse. He was hungry, but he wouldn't die if he didn't eat immediately. Everyone in the company knew he had seized an opportunity and grown. Yet no one brought it up to ask about it. Rem and Ragna's remarks when he had first come around were all that had been said. From what he heard, while he had been immersed so deeply that he could neither see his surroundings nor hear anything, they had taken turns as if on guard duty, turning away anyone who approached. When he ran into Torres later, Torres said,

"You seemed harder to get an audience with than a king." In any case, after the dwarf left, Encrid slept straight through the day. He woke, filled his belly, and went back to sleep. What had felt like a brief moment had been three days. Apparently, he had swung his sword throughout that entire trance. Sometimes fast and hard. Other times as slowly as a turtle out in the sea. But never once had he rested. Naturally, that had strained his muscles, but hadn't he trained this body with the Isolation Technique? After a full day's sleep, he was fine again. As he rested, ate, and slept after emerging from his trance, Encrid sorted through what he had learned. Only late in the afternoon of the second day did he speak.

"Rem." Rem was sitting to one side of the quarters, stroking his axe. Tormenting Dunbachel out of boredom could only entertain him for a day or two. He was starting to grow bored again. "Been waiting a long time." That made the summons all the more welcome, and Rem sprang to his feet. The axes in his hands gleamed with oil. It was time to spar. As for the outcome, Encrid didn't win. No, he lost more easily than before. "Again." He brought his sword against the axe blade, trying the same maneuver over and over, but success didn't come easily. A few attempts were halfway successful, but of course that wasn't enough to satisfy him. So he kept being driven back. What did it matter? More important than winning or losing a spar was ingraining his new creation in his body. "Fine by me." The sparring that began before sundown continued until they were drenched in sweat, finally ending after midnight. A maid complained about heating bathwater so late, only to fall silent at the sight of Encrid's body. Zimmer, seeing Ragna swing his sword morning and night with some newfound vigor, asked him to spar. Audin spent more time in prayer, and his expression seemed gentler than before. Watching Encrid, Dunbachel imitated the Isolation Technique and the like without anyone telling her to. "There are methods suited to your body. I'll teach you a few." Audin saw her and helped. Of course, he was helping, but Dunbachel looked as though she were being tortured. Teresa, too, worked up a sweat in silence. She was busy wielding her sword and shield, honing her own skills. In truth, the mere sight of Encrid immersed in training had spurred them on once more. The wild horse passed the time watching humans. Soldiers left a heap of hay to one side for him to eat. Ordinary horses relieved themselves wherever they pleased, but this one was so clever that he dug a hole with his own hooves at one side of the barracks to do his business. The sight of him digging with his hooves was strange in itself. The stable keeper marveled at his strength. "Ah, if only we could put tack on him. That would be perfect." The speaker was the man responsible for Martai's warhorses. Riding horses and battle steeds were the very heart of the cavalry, weren't they? He was a man who raised such horses. He genuinely regretted it, but he didn't try anything with the wild horse. The horse would emit killing intent if anyone approached rashly. Encrid gazed at the wild horse and thought,

'Should I at least give him a name?' As for strange behavior, plenty of the humans around him were guilty of that. Would adding one horse make any difference? Back in Border Guard, there was even a mage who changed from a panther into a human. Encrid put naming him off until later. For now, the wild horse seemed busy looking around. Perhaps everything around him stirred his curiosity. That didn't mean he ever approached people. Soldiers who looked into his distinctive blue and red eyes said they felt inexplicable chills. It was the killing intent characteristic of monsters. Time passed in that frenzy of training and sparring. On the third day after the dwarf's departure, they moved out as well. Krais, who had been tirelessly exploring the territory's market and meeting privately with the lord, said it was time to leave. "Let's head back." It was time to return to their own territory. Encrid led the way, and the lord saw them off.

"May fortune favor you in battle." They set off in the early dawn, and by sunrise the territory was out of sight behind them. Krais guided the way. They had left their horses behind and traveled on foot. Only the wild horse walked at Encrid's side. "Ah, snow." "Those demon bastards are sprinkling it down again." After they had been walking for a good while, white powder began falling overhead. It melted as it landed on the ground or their armor. Fortunately, there was no strong wind, nor was the snow coming down heavily. The tiny white flakes only restricted their visibility a little. The snow fell quietly and peacefully, and in truth was no great inconvenience. As the party walked through the snow onto a road between two low hills, they found people blocking their way. One of them was a familiar face.