Chapter 332 - Inspiration Spreads and Spreads (1)

Inspiration Spreads and Spreads (1)

'The curse is unraveling.' So Esther thought. She had expected to spend decades entangled in this damned curse. No, with bad luck, she would have suffered for over a century. With worse luck still, she might have spent her entire life with her spell world contaminated. The very thought was horrifying. It was that kind of curse, and she would have done anything to break it. That was why she had slept in the arms of the human named Encrid. Now that she no longer needed to, she rarely slept there. The tangled threads of the curse had begun to unravel in earnest. Luck had helped, too. Fighting Galaf, He Who Holds the River's Course, had helped her recover her old touch, and she had pocketed several of his spell objects. Naturally, some of them were useful for her spell world. It would have been even better to find and loot his private laboratory, but when would she find the time to track it down? Besides, the bastard was famous for having numerous apprentices. The treasures left in his laboratory would go to them. They would covet, steal, and fight over them until the last one standing claimed everything. A mage's greed would see to that. Apprentices living in harmony under the same master? A pipe dream. No one became a mage without being intoxicated by the desire to seek truth and transcend the confines of humanity. What utter nonsense. 'Ah, the fucking idiots.'

She had once been caught up in such vicious struggles herself, but not anymore. Thinking of Galaf's apprentices merrily fighting one another warmed her heart. Esther was not a nice person by any measure. She knew that herself. Still, she was relatively well-adjusted for a mage. 'No, even here, surrounded by weirdos, I'm one of the normal ones.'

That held true in the Lunatic Company, too. One thought led to another until she circled back to her original subject. She turned her attention to the curse again, losing herself once more in thoughts of it. The curse had not left her with only bad things. There were benefits as well. That had been unexpected. She had gained things like a Lake Panther's muscular strength. Of course, it was called a curse for a reason. Not everything about it was good. There were side effects, too, and they posed a bigger problem than she had expected. 'My body's memory of its shape has changed.'

A physical entity, a body, existed in the form one perceived it to have. This was especially true for mages. Because they manipulated a mental world known as a spell world, they had to maintain their physical forms through an accurate awareness of their own bodies. Otherwise, their spell worlds might swallow them, turning them into evil spirits. 'Should I push myself here?'

She could maintain her human form if she pushed herself. But if she made a mistake, it might truly be irreversible this time. Esther made her choice. She abandoned the insistence on remaining human at all times. Spending half her life as a panther would be fine. She could find another way to solve this problem later. Something else frustrated her more.

'Stagnation.'

Her spell world had stagnated. Despite her constant deliberation and experimentation while working to undo the curse, it had stagnated. Stopped. There was no progress. That left her deeply unsettled. Then what should she do? The same as before. Wait for inspiration, hone her spells, and refine the form of her world, over and over. Wasn't there a human right beside her who broke through his limits through ceaseless repetition? Thinking of Encrid gave her an inexplicable certainty that her own problems would somehow work out. Some of her frustration eased. She felt better. How strange, that there should be someone who could do that simply by coming to mind. Having more or less sorted through her problems, she was on her way back to the barracks. Clad in a black robe, she walked between the military buildings. She was a beauty who drew every eye. People were always captivated by her, yet today few looked her way. 'Hmm?'

She wasn't disappointed. She merely found it strange. Esther quickened her pace. Soon she saw Encrid. More precisely, she saw him fighting while demolishing the barracks. It was pure coincidence. Yet even coincidence was surely the product of causes built up day by day. Encrid had used Crushing Sword three times in succession to drive Teresa and Dunbachel back, and was now bringing its pressure to bear on Rem. "You think this shit will work on me?"

Rem roared and swung his axe overhead. BOOM!

In reality, there was no sound, but Esther heard something like it. The spell Demuller's Scythe compressed wind and launched blades of vacuum. It excelled in both cutting power and speed. What were wind and vacuum spells? To be precise, they were the art of manipulating pressure. Then what was the ultimate expression of wind, pressure, and vacuum spells? Influencing atmospheric pressure. Using it to produce extraordinary pressure. Part of the swordsmanship Encrid had displayed lingered as a mental image, stirring Esther's mind. The mage sank deep into her own world. If she entered a meditative state right here, she would plainly be left standing stock-still with a vacant expression, but there was no helping it. This was a chance to weave something new into her spell world, to gain something. She couldn't let it slip away.

* * *

"What is this supposed to be?"

At Krais's reproach, Encrid forced strength into his trembling legs and answered.

"Sparring."

What else was there to say? Krais didn't press the matter. It had already happened. What good would arguing do? It wouldn't repair the demolished barracks, nor would a man like Encrid reflect on his actions. Whatever he was so happy about, the corners of his mouth were gently raised. He looked unburdened. That faint smile really did make people feel good. Naturally, Krais lost the urge to scold him. "Is this a rebellion? Going to cut off my head and make yourself lord now?"

Lord Graham must have had a truly trying time lately. He was talking more nonsense by the day. "Would I really go about it like this?"

Encrid retorted, then glanced to one side. An exquisite beauty who stole every gaze wherever she went stood there motionless. Esther. He had seen her approach, only for her to stop like a wax doll and do nothing but breathe quietly. The soldiers who had been watching had formed a circle around her. None dared touch her. Esther was a member of the Lunatic Company, too. A mage who turned into a panther, a witch who walked around wearing only a black robe and threatened to pluck out the eyes of anyone who ogled her body. In short, she was exceedingly dangerous. Encrid approached the witch. Her eyes were unfocused. What was wrong with her now? He had no idea. It wasn't every day that someone saw his swordsmanship and was inspired to transform their spell world. Encrid wasn't a mage, either. He had no way of knowing. Esther was sensitive about people touching her body. Encrid was the only person allowed to do so. He scooped her into his arms and turned away, lifting her easily with an arm beneath her legs. Once he picked her up, her body went limp. She seemed like someone who had lost herself in something while standing. Was this what he looked like when he became so absorbed in the sword that he lost awareness of everything else? "Looks like you when you're drooling, Captain," Krais remarked after a glance. Encrid didn't bother speculating about her condition. This was a mage's business. Who knew what was going on? He ought to lay her down on a bed somewhere. Her eyes had rolled away, and she was completely out of it. But when he turned, all he saw was the wrecked barracks. "Clear out another barracks."

Graham stepped in.

"If you want to be lord, just say so instead of going for my neck." Had the man always been this good at joking? Encrid chuckled. Pouring out everything he had learned, practiced, and understood had left him feeling unburdened. No, it hadn't ended there. He could see a path forward as well. "You've changed, brother."

There was praise from Audin. "Not bad."

And a muttered comment from Ragna. Dunbachel had been knocked unconscious. Teresa had charged about recklessly until Audin twisted her arm. It wasn't broken, but she would need a day of rest. Encrid laid Esther down, then went out to find Rem. "Fucking hell, did you roast some bastard's heart and eat it on the battlefield?"

That was how he said Encrid had improved. "Does cannibalism make you stronger in the West?"

"Some crazy fuckers believe it does."

Rem wrapped himself in his warming hide as he spoke. His sweat seemed to have cooled. They had all just moved into the barracks next door. Everyone else was inside; only Rem remained outside. That was strange, too. He wasn't going to wash and didn't seem to have anything to say, yet he was lingering here? Rem, of all people? Instead of narrowing his eyes, Encrid spoke.

"Rem."

"What?"

"Nothing." Where had it all begun? What had caused that atmosphere just before the spar? Rem. Encrid had picked up on it. Audin had quietly dropped a hint, too. The people coming to see Encrid had kept him too busy to check in often, but he had sensed a subtle change in Rem's demeanor. Not instability, but a pronounced sharpness. Would Rem answer if he asked what was wrong? Perhaps. But even if he knew, what could he do? "Why start talking and stop halfway? Doesn't stopping mid-shit leave you feeling uncomfortable?"

Rem grumbled. At least that almost precarious sharpness had faded now. Encrid decided to skip the unnecessary questions and answers.

"Tomorrow morning."

"What?"

"We'll have a proper spar." One-on-one. He finished the thought with his eyes, and a smile touched Rem's lips. "Ever going to get that head of yours treated? What, you think you can take me on alone?"

"Don't cry when you lose."

Encrid wielded his tongue deftly. Rem cackled at that. "Fine. Fine. I'll be sure to make you cry." After that exchange of something akin to fighting spirit, Encrid walked away. Rem remained where he was, gazing quietly up at the sky. Stars shone in the night. Warmth from the warming hide and warming stone enveloped his body. As he listened to Encrid's retreating footsteps, Rem felt himself settle. A chuckle escaped him. Did Encrid know something? The thought occurred to him. And if so, what? Rem thought of the lazy bastard with no sense of direction.

'What the hell did you do out there?'

He asked the question inwardly. Naturally, he would never ask it aloud. Ragna had changed. Rem had seen that he was different from before. That was where this had all begun, the reason for the strange tension. Ragna hadn't provoked him. Rem had recognized the change. The man's sword would be on an entirely different level. He could tell just by looking. Something about his bearing was subtly different. Of course, you couldn't know how a fight would go until you fought it. You had to measure two things to know which was longer. That was only natural, unless the difference in skill was obvious. The problem was that Rem had reacted to that change. It had put him on edge.

'What if I used a sling?'

He had naturally begun thinking of ways to fight Ragna. His rising presence had provoked Ragna, who had no intention of backing down.

["You looking to get buried?"]

He hadn't held back with his own taunts. As if Rem would retreat.

["I'll crack your skull."]

That was how it had begun. Rem gazed at the night sky.

'Am I paying the price for giving it up?'

His thoughts had gone even that far. They reached back into the past, recalling the fortune-teller's curse as he left. ["You would surrender that power, that right? You will pay the price."]

["Yeah, I'll handle it myself."]

Rem had turned away after saying that. The fortune-teller had beaten their chest and vomited blood. What a fury they'd flown into. Well, the past was the past, and the present was the present. Ragna was Ragna, and Rem was himself. 'That alley-cat bastard.'

Would things have been a little less fucked up if that bastard Jaxon had been here? He couldn't stand the sight of those men, true, but Encrid was too strong a force holding them together for him to actually want them dead. This time, Ragna's change had sparked an eruption of something like competitiveness, but Rem decided to shake it off.

'If things go wrong, I'll just go back and get it.' There was something he had left behind long ago, in the place where he had been born and raised. What could anyone do with something he himself had relinquished? Once he retrieved it, he would be able to look down on the likes of Ragna beneath his feet.

* * *

The morning after they changed barracks, Encrid began his dawn training. Audin said they should observe his condition for a few days, then begin proper training. Even now, every dawn left them drenched in sweat, their arms and legs shaking. What constituted proper training? Dunbachel, who had joined the dawn training, was troubled merely by hearing it.

'Should I quit?' Teresa didn't show it outwardly either, but her eyes wavered. That was how far Audin's methods strayed beyond the bounds of normality. Encrid, however, remained composed.

"I'll look forward to it." That he could say such a thing reminded Teresa and Dunbachel just how firm his resolve was. It also spurred them on. Beside them stood someone who never gave up, no matter what was done to him. The half-Giant and the Beastman kindled fires in their own hearts. 'I won't fall behind.'

Dunbachel renewed her resolve. 'Teresa the Wanderer does not know surrender.'

Teresa did the same. Dawn training was over, and Encrid was about to spar with Rem.

"Company Commander."

A messenger ran up and called to him.

"What is it?"

"You need to come right away, sir." After turning Count Molsen away, Encrid had personally dealt with the matters that arose because of him. It was a nuisance, but it was only right. Having it steal his training time was another matter, though. "It's a noble."

He couldn't simply tell them to get lost. Even life peers, nobles whose titles were not inherited, were still nobles. Encrid was thoroughly fed up. He felt anew the need to resolve this. There was already a process of sorts underway to find a solution. He called out to that process.

"Krais?" Surely he wasn't slacking off? Whatever else he might tolerate, Encrid had no intention of receiving visitors at the expense of his training and conditioning. His wishes were clear. Big-eyes had just emerged rubbing his eyes. He responded with a drawn-out "Yeees?", then yawned and spoke.

"About time we made a move, wouldn't you say?"

Encrid nodded.