Chapter 342 - Once You Face a Knight's Sword

"Son of a bitch."

Rem ground his molars. Ragna stood before him, haughty as ever. He tucked his chin, tilted his nose up, then lowered his eyes slightly and spoke as though reciting poetry.

"Keep striving." Strive. Keep moving forward. Encrid thought it was exactly the right advice.

Rem was seething. Enough to want to return to his birthplace that instant and retrieve what he had left behind. He had lost, even if he hadn't used his sling. No, he couldn't have used it. There were two reasons. His instincts told him winning would still be difficult, and there was no point in getting them both killed that way. The bastard had grated on him from their very first meeting, but that didn't warrant beating him to death. The world was full of men who raped and murdered passing women, then lived with their bellies full. An idiot who was a picky eater and always got lost could be allowed to live. "You really want to fucking die?"

Despite his words, Rem had no intention of acting on them. He might risk death if pushed too far, but he couldn't do that here. He knew that would be another kind of defeat. To win, he had to overpower Ragna through skill. Just as Ragna had done to him. He had to end it without cutting off an arm or a leg, as the directionless idiot had done.

But he couldn't. Not now. His opponent had fought using something called Will. That power infused every part of his swinging blade. Even when Rem deflected it, the sword came back faster than it had been knocked away. A light tap of its point against his shoulder carried the force of an all-out thrust, despite clearly skipping the process of generating that force. Why? Rem could sum it all up in a single word.

Will.

Did that mean Ragna had become a knight? No. But at this moment, he was superior to Rem, if only by the slightest margin. That infuriated him beyond belief. "Can you manage that? If you mean to take me down with you, fine. Try."

Did Rem think he'd fall for that? That was what Ragna's tone conveyed. He knew, though. If Rem went all out, he wouldn't get through it unscathed. Rem would get him. At the very least, he might lose an arm or a leg.

Knowing that, Ragna remained haughty. 'Ah, should I just beat him to death?'

As Rem seriously considered it, Encrid intervened.

"I understand, Rem." He, too, had finished sparring at some point. Not that his bout had ever been likely to turn serious. Sinar had maintained her role as a teacher, and Encrid had accepted it, making theirs an instructional spar.

That was fine in its own right, but Rem and Ragna's fight was far too distracting. Naturally, they had stopped to watch. The final exchange in particular had shaken Encrid's mental imagery. Six short snapping strikes had ended in a downward cut that felt utterly unyielding. A vertical cut from the Heavy Sword Technique. In it, Encrid had sensed how Ragna's sword had changed. Rem had crossed his two axes against the vertically descending blade and twisted its force aside. His axes absorbed and redirected the force as though they had become wads of cotton. Had he possessed a little more strength to spare, the fight would have taken a different turn. At least it wouldn't have ended as it had. But Rem hadn't held out. Ragna's sword had driven straight down with constant force. It resembled Crushing Sword, yet was different. It held the determination to cut, but unlike before, that determination persisted. Where his earlier Scission had lasted an instant, this strike held Will long enough to savor and swallow a sip of tea. Crushing Sword applied pressure to the opponent through its preparatory movements. Will, such as intimidation, only actually activated in the instant their swords clashed. In a sense, calling it a cheap trick wouldn't be wrong. Unable to wield intimidation itself skillfully for long, Encrid used a gradual crushing approach instead. Then what of Ragna's sword now?

'The duration is different.'

Ragna had already used Will through his technique, Scission, imbuing it for a moment. But now? His Will-infused sword descended while maintaining constant force. That was where victory and defeat had been decided. Rem hadn't been able to draw out Will. There was little difference in physical strength. In fact, Rem might have been superior in terms of physical perfection, but Ragna had added Will to his. 'Ah.'

Encrid quickly grasped the situation. Facing a knight's sword had opened his eyes. Ragna's new swordsmanship, his light and heavy sword, marked the birth of a sword style founded on Will. It was the result of talent. No, talent that had blossomed after encountering the blade of a knight. Before that, fighting a proto knight and a squire had already made Ragna resolve to break through his limits. Watching Encrid's steadfast life had dispelled the things eating away at him. All of it had come together. Which of those things had mattered most recently? The knight. In short, the experience of facing a knight's sword had produced this result.

With that thought, Encrid consoled Rem. "You've never fought a knight, have you?"

"... What?"

"Try fighting one. It'll change things."

He was even sharing what he'd learned firsthand. It was advice for Rem's sake. Ragna added his own contribution.

"I see. You've never faced a knight's sword. You haven't."

And Rem...

"Aaaaaaargh!"

Briefly demonstrated what a human transforming into a demonic beast might look like. He didn't lash out, however. It was what Encrid had expected. On the surface, Rem looked like a crazy bastard who would split someone's skull with an axe the moment something displeased him. And there was genuine madness in him. But he observed certain boundaries. That was the Rem Encrid knew. Still, it pained him to see Rem unable to accept his advice for what it was, so he persisted.

"Once you face a knight's sword..."

"For fuck's sake, what are you on about?"

"It's only because you haven't seen it yet. I'm telling you, once you do, things will change."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Afterward, Encrid insisted he'd never meant to tease him. Sinar, who had watched it all, saw things differently. This was her verdict on that day:

"A demon dwells in my betrothed's tongue." Esther, lying off to one side and watching, had much the same thought. Having met an actual demon, the mage thought even a demon's whispers couldn't compare.

"It's for your own good."

Especially when he said things like that. She could feel the unmistakable intent to drive a man insane. "Stop. Just stop!"

It was a rare sight. Rem was suffering. After hearing Encrid repeat himself dozens more times, he finally transcended it all.

"Fine. I'll meet a knight someday." Watching him, Audin quietly recited a prayer.

"God dwells within him and shelters him. You have gained an important insight, brother."

"Fine. I'll gain an insight."

Rem agreed. Ragna watched him for a moment, then told Encrid,

"I'll admit you're several steps ahead of me when it comes to cruelty, Captain."

Encrid said it was a misunderstanding, but no one believed him. Rem didn't regain his senses until that night.

"Mention knights one more time, and I'll use my axe to give you a tongue like a snake's."

The threat to split his tongue in two was clearly no bluff. It almost seemed as though his words carried Will. Sometimes powerful determination struck the heart that way. Encrid stopped teasing him and merely smacked his lips.

"All right. Let's stop."

Chances to tease Rem like this were rare, so he'd put a little effort into it.

"Fuck." Rem snapped one last time, but he did settle down. Afterward, he devoted himself to training alone, asking Ragna to spar once a day, or once every three or four days.

"You directionless bastard, you think you're such a great fighter? Follow me to the sparring grounds." Ragna graciously obliged these polite requests.

"Let's. Today, let's take off that useless head of yours."

Encrid sometimes joined the two, but Sinar visited with such diligence that he often concentrated on their instructional spars instead. "Do you have a lot of free time these days?"

"I'm busy. Big-eyes has started a great many things."

Encrid heard things too. Krais also came by to ramble on at length. Krais had established an extensive trade route, laying bluestone to connect roads that could be traveled even in the rain.

"And who's doing all that work?"

As Big-eyes explained everything to him, Encrid had put a question of his own to him. Border Guard was short of hands. They also had the Green Pearl plains to bring under cultivation. "There are people over in Pioneer Village with an excellent reputation for this sort of work. I paid them."

Not that Pioneer Village would have hands to spare either.

"I used your name, Captain."

Krais said it without shame. Encrid didn't reprimand him. When it came to brains for making things happen, Krais was the best. What did it matter if he traded on Encrid's name a little along the way?

"I hear they wanted to name their wall after you, Captain. This much is good for both sides." Martai also sent workers, and an entire passing mercenary company became a labor force.

"We'll fill the labor shortage soon. More importantly, please take charge of training the recruits."

Krais's assurance that the shortage would soon be filled did come true. It was an effect of Encrid's name spreading throughout the region. At the same time, word spread far and wide that no one starved in Border Guard. In a world where monsters and demonic beasts prowled the roads, there were no bands of vagrants. Instead, there were people forced to become bands of bandits. They had escaped the clutches of the bastard lords sucking them dry. Krais accepted refugees from various cities, including people like those. Many were potential troublemakers, but this was no time to be choosy, so he took them in first. If they caused trouble in the city, he dealt with it through decisive punishment. All of it had the lord's approval, so there was no issue. Of course, some people did speak up over those concerns.

"Don't you realize accepting anyone and everyone will create public safety problems?"

The lord's adjutant raised the matter, only for Krais to turn it back on him with a scolding.

"Then what should we do to prevent that?" "Well? Because you can't solve one public safety problem, you'll throw away this chance to become a trade city! This chance to make mountains of Krona! Hm? Just throw it away? And you still call yourself the lord's adjutant? Go over there and ask a friend of mine named Rem to take that head off your shoulders. He's been angry lately. He'll pop it off nice and clean. What are you waiting for?" If anyone could match Rem in a war of words, it was Krais. Especially when Krona was at stake. His tongue's fighting power multiplied several times over. The adjutant was speechless. He thought he'd heard some nonsense about Krona in the middle of it, but he couldn't argue. Nor could he simply beat him a few times. Krais belonged to the Lunatic Company.

Could he hit this man? Was that allowed?

He couldn't. Krais thrust his face forward as though daring him to strike.

"If you're not going to hit me, let's work."

The adjutant had earned his position through coolheadedness and sound judgment. Naturally, he concluded he couldn't strike Krais. Krais knew that too, which was why he pushed. Otherwise, the adjutant would have beaten him first and worried about it later. And if the adjutant had been the type to lead with his fists, Krais wouldn't have confronted him like this. Afterward, the adjutant faithfully followed Krais's orders-that-weren't-orders and drowned in work. Thanks to a lord who had rediscovered the joy of swinging a sword, the dark circles beneath his eyes never faded.

Instead, he began saying prayers before bed. Half consisted of curses against Krais, the other half of curses against the lord. Encrid couldn't know every detail, but he understood the general situation. When Krais worked this hard, everyone else was bound to groan. He knew how to squeeze every last drop of ability from people. "Audin will handle the recruits' training."

Encrid lent Krais a hand.

"Yes, brother. I will do it. We must at least ensure the lambs can run."

No one was better suited than Audin to basic physical conditioning. The new recruits would have to swallow their tears, of course, but it wasn't bad for them either. It was a simple truth that suffering near death in training improved one's odds of living through battle. In return, soldiers' pay was raised sharply. They also hired a host of laborers for odd jobs, increased the number of maids, and gathered women skilled with needles to form a sewing guild.

"Let's spread the Krona around."

Krais burned through the castle's remaining Krona completely. He worked to spend every last copper coin. "Those are the castle's funds."

The adjutant mustered his last strength to object, but stood no chance.

"And? If we leave those funds sitting there, will wheat fall from the sky? Will they give us so much as an apple? What exactly do you want me to do?"

"I was just saying." The adjutant gave up arguing, partly because the lord had authorized Krais to proceed as he wished. His bedtime prayers merely grew several times longer. Krais reorganized several units around the men known as veteran soldiers. He outfitted them all with new equipment as well. Standardizing their equipment was a way to strengthen their sense of belonging. Leona lent them the Krona they were short.

"No interest. Just don't forget to expand my authority in return."

Krais would have had to entrust trading expeditions and other business to the Roquefried trading company anyway. Leona knew that too. But since it benefited them both, she offered gold coins to make a show of lending a hand. That way, no one could complain when the Roquefried trading company received preferential treatment later. Meanwhile, word also spread that the pay was different in Border Guard's standing army. Rumor carried rumor, and people soon flocked in. As residents began fleeing neighboring territories, lords across the region petitioned the royal palace and tightened control over their lands. Someone from the palace came and told Border Guard to rein it in. The lord meekly agreed on the surface, but naturally paid no heed. "If this is how they're going to act, they could at least have helped when everyone was harassing us."

Krais was scathing in his criticism. He knew the palace wasn't in a position to mobilize armed force immediately, so he simply did as he pleased. Once they built up strength and justification, there would be even less anyone could say. They continued improving the roads and began erecting guard posts within sight of one another. Lined up on either side of the roads, the posts looked like a Border Guard landmark. The newly organized troops were sent out to them, their ten-man squads now named guard-post squads. "You want us to guard this place?"

The first Squad Leader sent out voiced his unease. They would have to travel back and forth and stand duty day and night, with no guarantee that monsters or demonic beasts wouldn't appear. Krais offered the answer as though it were obvious.

"You'll get extra pay."

"Even so..."

"Want to take the advanced training course, then?"

"I'll guard the post." To the recruits, Audin's training was like stepping through the gates of hell. That was why people also said to become a soldier if you wanted to die. Even so, many came seeking to enlist. Border Guard was changing by the day, with Krais at the center of it all. He set so many things in motion that Sinar, too, grew busier as a consequence. Her unit was surveying the entirety of the newly acquired marshland. It truly was an extremely busy time. Yet she kept visiting Encrid without fail, which was why he had asked whether she was busy.

"Then why not come when you have more free time?"

He asked again, but to Sinar, it was an absurd question. "A date is at stake."

"... Ah."

In some ways, she seemed even more persistent than he was. But his intuition told him this Fairy wasn't doing all this merely for a date. There was something more. Otherwise, shouldn't she have asked him to go to the market or somewhere long ago? But she hadn't.

"I will ask when the time comes."

That was all she said. "Let us enjoy ourselves again today, my betrothed."

Sinar drew Nidle. Encrid drew his silver longsword as well. It settled snugly into his hand now, as though it had forgotten its former owner. "You're better than me now."

Sinar made the remark during their instructional spar. She meant that at some point, his skill had surpassed hers. Encrid didn't deny it. He felt the same way. As usual, their spar was nearing its end. Sinar stepped back and tucked her chin. Her gaze rose from below to look Encrid squarely in the face, and she opened her mouth.

"This won't do."

It happened just after she finished speaking.