Chapter 343 - Are You Enjoying Yourself?

'Am I falling behind?'

Sinar felt something akin to alarm. Encrid's growth had brought it on. Did winning or losing matter? No. The problem was that if he outstripped her like this, she could no longer offer the man before her much enjoyment. 'He lives to fight.'

What was the best gift for someone striving to become a knight? What made his heart race the most? Not peerless beauty. That much was certain. Feminine charm could not sway him.

What, then?

'The sword.'

Something that translated into combat, skill, ability. Sinar, of course, had a hidden trump card of her own. She simply hadn't expected to reveal it here. Fairies grew by feeding on the forest's vital energy, and with sufficient training, they could nurture a tree of that energy within their bodies. Normally, they accumulated it gradually over hundreds of years. That was the norm for their race. But Sinar was no ordinary Fairy. She had a gift for absorbing and cultivating vital energy itself, holding it within her body to use when the moment called for it. A hidden trick. Her trump card. Sinar played that card solely because she wanted to see Encrid's astonished face, to see him leap about in excitement.

Her reason?

That didn't matter. 'Ah, this is fun.'

She had never experienced anything like this. Her heart raced. Elation welled up inside her. What was this feeling that arose the moment she sensed his emotions change?

Enjoyment. Fun.

It sent goose bumps prickling across her skin. 'Are you having fun?'

She asked him silently. Every sense in Encrid's body responded. Watching that was a joy beyond compare. Control your emotions.

She had heard those words from the moment she became aware of the world around her. Their racial ability to feel others' emotions without any filter made Fairies emotional creatures, easily swayed by those feelings. It was the price of sensitivity. Once a problem was recognized, naturally it had to be solved. Fairies had done just that. They had faced the problem and resolved it. Since then, they had practiced what they called cultivation of the mind, learning to govern and control their own hearts.

Maintain composure, whatever happens.

In a way, it resembled the heart of the beast. Thus they controlled their minds, controlled their bodies, and mastered their emotions. Sinar was here because she, too, had completed that entire process. If a Frog had to stop flying into a frenzy at the word "heart" before leaving home, a Fairy had to learn control over body and mind. They crossed swords and sweated. She saw Encrid's face as his sweat dripped to the ground. Beneath his black hair, his blue eyes curved softly. Light seemed to spill from those crescent eyes. It was a little past noon. The sunshine of spring in full bloom shone down, bathing his hair, casting a long shadow before him and shading the left side of his face. As she watched, he seemed to blend with the scenery and radiate some strange energy. The Fairy took it all in with her keen senses, seeing, smelling, feeling. Fairies were born beautiful. Their perfectly symmetrical eyes and brows, and the bridges of their noses dividing their faces down the center, often left those who gazed upon them lovesick. The expression "inhuman beauty" existed for a reason. Fairies possessed a beauty beyond humanity. Of course, a few fell far short of that ideal, but most looked the part. Born a Fairy, Sinar had seen countless such faces around her.

'If it were only his face, I wouldn't be so sure.'

But the vitality radiating from this man captivated everyone around him. She had felt it many times, yet her attitude now was different. This was neither a pledge nor a resolution. It came naturally.

She would let emotion guide her sword.

And so she did. She acted on her feelings instead of controlling them.

* * *

Intuition, or Sixth Sense.

An ominous sensation brushed the back of his neck. A chill ran through Encrid, and every fine hair on his body seemed to stand on end. It was as though the reaper had stepped up beside him to whisper in his ear. Everything he saw, heard, and felt blurred together, entering the realm of Sixth Sense. A view opened up as though he were looking down on his own body. He saw another blade aimed at his back. The instant he saw and felt it, he twisted sideways. Shifting his pivot to his right foot, he drew the gladius with his left hand. As it came free, he turned his wrist to catch the sword on the flat. THUNK.

The impact wasn't heavy, but it felt piercing. Sinar had vanished from in front of him before he knew it. His hair stood on end again. His thoughts accelerated. Encrid knew what he had to do. No, he felt it. This called for an answer closer to instinct, and he obliged. He threw the gladius toward the source of that chilling sensation. WHOOSH.

As the blade flew straight ahead, he drew Spark. CLANG!

Without a moment to catch his breath, he swept Spark in a wide arc. Spark was made exclusively for stabbing. He couldn't expect it to cut, but this attack would catch her by surprise. And so it did. Sinar wasn't flustered, but she acknowledged the inventiveness of his strike. She met his sword and deflected it. CLATTER-CLANG!

Spark and Nidle met in a spray of sparks. Encrid let go of Spark as well, then gripped his silver longsword in both hands. He drew a sharp breath and steadied his breathing. Raising his senses to their utmost, he activated Concentrate on a Single Point. He didn't know how, but Sinar's sword was in front of him and behind him. Swords with physical substance, at that.

Some trick of Will?

It didn't look like it. It didn't feel like it, either. Encrid brought his sword down at the Sinar before him. She seemed about to raise her sword in response, but then her entire body blurred like a mirage. Nidle stabbed in from both sides. High-speed movement?

No. All of them had substance.

A spell? Something infused with magic?

There was no time to think. The instant he swung down, Encrid sprang forward into a roll. Two sharp impacts scored lines in the ground where he had been. Sinar stopped attacking. She merely stood there, silently steadying her breath. Remaining still, she watched Encrid, who had yet to relax his stance. "What did you do?"

Encrid asked from the one-kneed crouch in which he'd finished his roll. The blade in his hand reflected the sunlight. He was still poised for combat. His stance and the menace of his blade alone were threatening, but a Fairy's vision and perspective were anything but ordinary. "Are you proposing to me here?"

What was she talking about now?

Then he realized he was down on one knee.

"I'm saying I can still fight."

"Is that so?"

The Fairy replied without a trace of laughter. More onlookers had gathered without his noticing. They ranged from visitors hoping to cross swords with Encrid to Rem, Audin, and Ragna. Naturally, Dunbachel and Teresa had also been drawn in. What had caught the attention of the Lunatic Company's members? The godlike skill Sinar had displayed. Her technique and artistry were extraordinary, enough for even Ragna to recognize how unusual they were. 'Could all Fairies fight like that?'

His unintentional wanderings had often brought him into the company of Fairy swordsmen. The most memorable had wielded Twin swords, targeting vital points with unerring precision. Sinar was several times more threatening now than that Fairy had been. She had clearly been in front of Encrid, yet a blade had seemed to spring from behind him. How was that possible? Through precision and finesse? No, those were merely the hallmarks of Fairy swordsmanship. She had unmistakably swung into empty air, yet a sword strike had come from behind Encrid. Rem's eyes narrowed, too. What had that Fairy just done? Audin was also watching with a smile. "Magic?" Dunbachel asked, almost to herself.

"No," Teresa answered.

She had fought many mages. Her instincts said this wasn't magic. Sinar heard them but let their words pass harmlessly by as she watched Encrid. A faint smile blossomed on her face without her noticing. Even Encrid had never seen this smile from her before. Wearing it, she spoke. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

A simple question.

Sunshine, dust, mild air.

Taking in all of it, Encrid nodded. She asked whether he was enjoying himself. Of course he was. He had never faced a technique like this. He couldn't even understand it. The thought of unraveling its principles and mastering them sent a thrill through his entire body. His hair was still standing on end. Encrid rose.

"More than anything."

"Then sparring with me must be the most fun."

It came so abruptly that even Encrid couldn't answer immediately. The most fun? In the midst of their conversation, after the Fairy finished speaking, everyone paused to consider her words. The moment was brief, but long enough. Then a heavy thumping sound came from behind the Fairy. THUMP.

The sound drew their attention almost instinctively. Behind Encrid, Audin stood in the posture of someone who had just thrown a short punch. "Brother Captain, have you gotten a feel for the point-blank Burst yet? Once you learn the knack, you'll discover a different kind of enjoyment. Nothing in this world is more enjoyable than learning and mastering new things."

Hm?

Encrid's thoughts briefly stalled. Where had that come from? Audin wasn't the last. Beside him, Ragna swung his sword. SWISH, SWISH.

"A swift, heavy sword."

A sword imbued with Will. That was not something one could learn simply by being taught. Encrid might not have known it before, but he knew now. Imitation wasn't enough to become a knight. He had to advance with something of his own. Having chosen that direction and begun walking it, he understood the fact all the better. "Even if you can't learn it, can you say you gain no insight from sparring?"

Ragna spoke as though reading his mind. He stopped his sword, his eyes gleaming. Determination showed through, as firm and solid as a blade.

Encrid wondered whether this was really the moment to be radiating such presence. As he stared and considered this, a third man stepped forward.

"Look here. I picked this up after watching some crazy old bastard do it. You'd do well to learn it."

Rem was winding a cord around his axe. What were they doing? Were they trying to stress that sparring with them was fun, too?

"Then was fighting Teresa the Wanderer no fun at all?"

Teresa asked, while Dunbachel rolled her shoulders, looking ready to pounce. They all seemed to be protesting without saying it outright, and Encrid let out an involuntary chuckle. What needed saying? Just because Sinar had given him a thrill, would he lose interest in sparring, in fighting, with them? They said a hundred people brought a hundred different colors. Learning or experiencing anything at all delighted him almost beyond bearing. Their reactions gave him no reason to be displeased. Encrid laughed. In that opening, a voice spoke up.

"What's this? Do I have to get in line to speak to Company Commander Enkie?" Many people had been watching the spar, from mercenaries who knew their way around a blade to ordinary soldiers. Bell and Vengeance were among them. They turned toward the voice. It was familiar. "Been well?"

The neatly groomed beard and hair showed a professional's touch. The clothes, too, looked different from those worn in Border Guard. A man stepped out from among the soldiers, resting a short stick against the ground.

Marcus Vaisar, the former lord. The way he raised his cane made him look like an idler dropping in on a neighbor, but the guards behind him radiated a formidable presence. Dust clung to all their shoulders. They looked as though they had come straight here at their journey's end, without even washing. Encrid returned Marcus's greeting with a military salute. "Not even a cup of tea? Have you taken to leaving your guests standing outside?"

At Marcus's response, Encrid wondered whether he ought to ask the lord for tea instead. Still, he couldn't simply turn him away. Judging by his appearance, Marcus had come straight to Encrid upon reaching the city, without stopping to see the lord. "Well? Are you going to give me tea or not?"

Marcus pressed him again, and Encrid nodded. It was time to end the sparring. No one had any regrets. Encrid, too, needed time to reflect on what Sinar had just shown him. 'A sword strike I can sense, with real substance, yet physically impossible.'

How was it possible? What principles lay behind it? He needed to think, to Review, to work it out. "Well, that killed the mood."

Rem summed up the situation in a single remark. Sinar's face returned to its usual indifference as she spoke.

"An intruder. That's what he is."

Her face gave no hint whether she truly meant it. Still, she backed off without protest. Looking at Marcus's smiling face, Encrid thought he had intervened at a remarkably opportune moment.

"This way."

There was hardly going to be tea in the barracks. Encrid headed for the dining hall.