Chapter 328 - Quick Thinking

Quick Thinking

For three full days, Encrid did nothing but ponder and Review. He had little choice. He had worked his body so hard it was a wonder he had not done himself lasting damage. Physical training therefore had to be kept very simple: a few flexibility exercises and some sword swings through empty air to keep his touch. He devoted the rest of his time to pondering and Review. Not that he found it particularly tedious. "Exerting yourself now is like pouring water into a cracked vessel, brother." Audin meant that whatever he did now, most of it would leak away, leaving him little to show for it. In the past, before he began repeating today, Encrid would have pushed himself regardless of whether the vessel was cracked. But now he knew. When it was time to rest, he had to rest. "You must rest properly to move forward, brother. Once, there was a goat named Nu. Nu could walk without resting, for he had very sturdy legs. And so the goat walked without rest. Nu believed that moving forward, ever forward, was the very reason he had been given such sturdy legs. And so he walked on without pause. Seeing this, the Lord spoke: 'If you walk without looking where you are going, you will not know where you are.'" Audin went on with his sermon. It was not unpleasant to listen to. Teresa knelt beside them and listened as well. The two made a surprisingly good pair. For a start, they were about the same size, which had earned them the nickname Giant Brother and Sister. Looking at them now, even their manner seemed to be growing similar. After Audin's sermon and scolding, Teresa quietly recounted what had happened. Given their first encounter, it could have been quite awkward, but Encrid knew how to put people at ease. If conversation was a skill, he was highly accomplished. "Looks like we're in the same boat, resting because we're injured."

"Yes, we are."

"You killed a bishop. Aren't they going to come after you with murder in their eyes?"

"I don't know."

"What will you do about it?"

"Whatever I can." Teresa was surprisingly ill-informed about the evil cult. That made it difficult to glean any information from her. Even so, Krais seemed to draw a few inferences from what she told them. "I've been learning to sing lately," Teresa said out of the blue. Her voice had a distinctive rasp. It was rather like rough wood grain, but Encrid's hearing, developed through the sensory arts, picked out its strengths. 'It's raspy, but...' It was an appealing voice. Rough-grained wood, perhaps, but wood that would make a handsome table just as it was. Encrid had no talent for singing himself, but he had picked up quite a few songs on his travels. Garrett's voice was surprisingly clear and sweet for a man like him. Encrid thought it might complement Teresa's rasp. "What were you doing while the Captain was getting put through hell?"

"Fighting."

"I'm asking where you were fighting. Are you being difficult on purpose? Oh, right. You like getting beaten, don't you?"

"I don't."

"Sure, sure. Come on. Let's get you beaten. I mean, let's spar." Off to one side, Rem was giving Dunbachel hell, as though he had been waiting for the chance. Ragna dozed in a corner. He, too, was recovering. Meanwhile, there was talk of whether or not to hold a feast, and Encrid focused on resting apart from his basic training. Rest included pondering, Review, and conversations with his men. He made sure to eat well, too. "If they deliver any eel, make sure you try it."

He even offered recommendations. Seeing Ragna nod beside him, Rem took an interest. "That fussy tongue of his approves? I've had eel before."

"The seasoning's different." Encrid sensed an odd undercurrent in the barracks. More than once, he saw Ragna and Rem pointedly ignore each other, as though neither existed. Something like tension hung between them. But this was hardly the first time. Encrid blithely ignored it. "Salve."

Sinar stopped by from time to time and brought him another batch. "Did you raid a Fairy treasure vault?"

"How did you know?"

Accustomed to Fairy humor now, Encrid answered smoothly.

"A hunch."

"I hear that hunch brought you back alive. Excellent." With that flippant remark, Sinar slipped away. In truth, she made the salve herself. It smelled faintly of herbs in its small, well-worn earthenware pot. The pot was old, but its contents smelled fresh. She must have made it herself. Life went on unchanged after Sinar left. Whenever he had time, Encrid delved inward, revisiting everything he had learned and practiced. What else could he do when he could not exert his body? He worked his mind like mad instead. He had gained a great deal this time.

'Couldn't I use that instinct in a fight, too?'

It seemed entirely possible. On a broad scale, it was the intuition to recognize the turning points between victory and defeat on a battlefield. 'But if I concentrate on the enemy in front of me, I can use it in other ways.' He had already proved that against the fellow from the Ruling Prince's Knight Order. He had the boldness granted by the heart of the beast, the sensitivity developed through the sensory arts, and concentration on top of those. What did he lack? Pondering meant understanding. It gave him the ability to look squarely at where he stood. Having done it thousands of times, Encrid soon identified what he lacked. More precisely, he knew how to recognize what he needed now and what he was aiming for, so the answer came easily. What he needed now was quick thinking. How would he respond to a situation, a moment, an occurrence? He had to consider several possibilities swiftly, choose the best, and act on it. He needed to become practiced not merely in the realm of the senses, but in the act of thinking itself. 'Not intuition.'

He had to compress the process of thought. After all, the brief phrase "by instinct" contained intuition born of experience. In short, it came down to quick thinking. Rely on instinct alone, and a deceptive sword would catch him out. How much had he gained by using the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique? Encrid did not consider himself special. He always kept in mind that the same tricks could be turned on him. Naturally. Ever since leaving his village as a child with people calling him a genius, life had knocked him down again and again. That was also why repetition and training had become ingrained in him. Once kindled, his thoughts burned on without going out. While Encrid sank into himself, something happened outside, but it was none of his concern. No, he did not even hear it. "Who are you here to see?" He ignored the faint sounds from outside and delved deeper into himself. 'The knight.'

The man's sword came back to him again and again. Reading its trajectory had been all he could do. He could not even read the man's breathing. Only after watching countless times, paying with his life, had he managed to react. 'What's different?'

He knew there was a difference. But what was its underlying cause? As he immersed himself and dug deeper, he began to sense something. By overcoming his repeated todays, Encrid had gained a new perspective. What was the speed he had needed to save the child? What he had needed to overcome the wall called strategy was awareness. The knight's sword had been called despair. It was despair, yet it was not. His broader perspective and the experience of facing a knight had awakened something inside him. To overcome the knight's sword, he had changed his approach. Rather than block, he had struck first. That was how he had overcome the condition his opponent had set: "once." 'Ah.'

Small realizations flickered like sparks, fading and flaring again. The moment he recognized them, Encrid urged himself to change. What had he gained when he kicked off the ground to save the child?

'Will of the Instant.'

He had needed the speed to slip through the brief opening when another person's gaze turned away. That was how Will had taken hold. It had been the same when he was trapped within the framework of strategy. The shackles of foreboding, his dodging sense, overlaying the intent to attack upon his senses: were they all different? No. They were the same. He let them seep into his sensory arts and mingle. He gathered them and kneaded them into one. That was how he had gained that preposterous "instinct." Had Will played no part in it? No, it had. He could feel it. It had been possible because willpower, Will, had been layered over his intent. Just as he had grasped refusal to overcome intimidation. And what of Crushing Sword, which he had developed to withstand the knight's blade? Here Encrid hesitated. Should he take one great step forward? He felt that he could. But he did not know whether it was the right path. He thought he had merely closed his eyes where he sat, but perhaps he had fallen asleep, for he saw the ferryman.

"Keep doing what you've been doing."

Only the ferryman's face appeared, hazy, before vanishing. Advice, or interference? Encrid's instinct worked even at a moment like this. It sounded like advice. Encrid set himself signposts and walked toward them. He would carry on as he always had, steadily, one step at a time. That felt like the answer. Having put his thoughts in order, he opened his eyes. "How about breaking that habit of falling asleep all the time?"

It was Rem. Without realizing it, Encrid had once again forgotten himself and sunk into the world of the sword. "How long has it been?"

"Two days."

Krais answered. But that did not seem to be the problem. "You'd better go see the lord right away."

"Why?"

"Someone's been waiting since yesterday." Encrid took stock of his surroundings. He was in the barracks, and Audin was nowhere in sight. His hearing, honed through the sensory arts, told him that Audin was talking to someone a good distance away. "I kept them out yesterday," Rem added, sounding rather disgruntled. Encrid could roughly piece together what had happened. He had lost himself in the world of the sword again, drooling, and his men had apparently stepped in to keep anyone from disturbing him. But surely Lord Graham would have left him alone if he knew? It would take a visitor of considerable standing for him to summon Encrid like this. "Who's here?" Encrid asked as he rose.

"Count Molsen," Krais answered.

"In person?"

"Yes." At that, Encrid started walking. The King of the Frontier. An ambitious monster of a nobleman. If he had come all this way, he likely had something up his sleeve. "He specifically said he came to see you, Captain. Be careful," Krais warned. A noble had waited two days for him. He could make him wait longer if necessary, but it would be foolish. Encrid might be mad about the sword, but he was not stupid. He knew which path would be easier. He was a little hungry, but his head was clear and his body did not feel too bad. "Wait a moment."

As Encrid strode out, Krais hurried after him. Assuming Krais would catch up if he had something to say, Encrid headed straight to the front of the barracks. Beside Audin stood a woman in a light fur coat, her long black hair striking. It was Esther. "Got tired of being a panther?"

That fur had been so soft and warm. Esther turned her head at his remark. "I didn't become an animal by choice."

Prickly. In other words, her usual self. In front of Audin stood a fierce-looking man and a woman in scale armor. The woman's eyes were half-closed, and a strange light seemed to issue from them. The man looked as solid as rock; the woman stood ramrod straight. Several more soldiers stood in a line behind her. "I said, hear me out before you go," Krais said from behind him. Spotting Encrid, the woman spoke, running her gaze over his face and body. "Are you the fellow called Encrid?"

"Yes, that's me. And you are?"

"You see, Sister? You waited, and here he is," Audin interjected. "This is the second day. How dare you keep the count waiting?"

The man's stony mouth moved. As he clenched his teeth, the muscles of his jaw tightened. They looked strong enough to chew through most stones. Were his teeth his main weapon? They were outside the barracks. The soldier on duty looked uncomfortable, but Audin wore his usual calm, gentle smile as he replied. "Ho ho. He's here now. All is well, brother."

"Do you think the count's name carries no weight in these lands? Keep that up and you'll answer for it, you big oaf." As the man issued his warning, Encrid stepped in front of Audin. Audin was slow to anger, but he was not one to let provocation pass, either. Knowing that, Encrid intervened. Audin probably would not launch into a beating even if left alone, but there was no reason to make trouble. He was here now. Wasn't that enough? "My apologies for the discourtesy. Shall we go?"

"I believe we should come first," said the woman standing so straight. She held a rounded helmet under one arm and wore a thick fur cloak. Her eyes were an unusual color. Her pupils shone white. "Her clan carries spells in their eyes," Esther said from behind him. There was a clan like that? Encrid gazed at the woman. So? Surely the spell in her eyes was not the important part. Though it did seem to explain why Esther had come out. Having a mage among the visitors might have concerned her. Encrid's guess was right. Esther had come out intending to make the woman pay if she tried any clumsy tricks. Who did she think she was, trying to cast some paltry spell here? Encrid scratched his chin with his right index finger. All of this, just to keep him from being disturbed. That, too, was astonishing.

'No, perhaps it isn't surprising anymore.'

By now, couldn't he well expect them to behave this way? Yes, he could. The woman with spells in her eyes spoke again.

"I come from House Vaisar. Someone with business with you is waiting." How many nobles were there in the Kingdom of Naurilia? Certainly more than a handful. Among them, Encrid was, to put it bluntly, something of a country bumpkin. He had visited the capital, but it was expensive to stay in, and there was little work he could do there. That was why he had roamed the frontier. He had not ended up meeting a sword instructor in some remote corner of the coast for no reason. Even Encrid, however, knew of the five families that formed the kingdom's foundations, including Centerpole, the Thumb family. It was Marcus's family. The marquisate house of Vaisar, also known as Centerpole or the Thumb family. A house that wielded immense influence even in the capital. If Marcus had returned, he would not have approached him this way. Someone else must have come. From those few words, Encrid grasped the situation. Quick thinking was useful at moments like this, too. He compressed the process of thought, settled on an answer, and acted. "Let's meet them together." What the two wanted seemed obvious, so he saw no harm in it. No, he thought this would be better for him. At his words, Rock Jaw and Spell Eyes looked at each other. One thing was certain: neither could wait any longer. They had already been remarkably accommodating. Had he not been a war hero, a man said to have the potential to become a knight, they would never have waited at all. Soon, both nodded.