Chapter 357 - Learning by Teaching

CLANG! Encrid blocked Andrew's first attack, a straightforward vertical cut. Their blades met, and his gaze met Andrew's across the steel. Andrew's lips were pressed tight, his eyes wide. 'Has he improved?'

He couldn't tell yet. His memory of how well Andrew used to fight was hazy. Instead of attacking again, Encrid pushed the blade aside and retreated. Andrew immediately thrust. Encrid gently parried the incoming sword and shifted his footing, bringing his left foot forward. Andrew didn't notice. He was busy drawing his sword back and swinging diagonally, only to have it blocked and diverted by Spark in Encrid's left hand. Lately, Encrid had been practicing deflections using timing and feel alone. His movements resembled Fairy swordsmanship. Naturally so: this was the Flowing Sword applied with Sinar's finesse. He hadn't fully internalized it yet, but the difference in their abilities was so clear that redirecting Andrew's sword wasn't difficult. Andrew's sword struck Spark with a clang, its force diverted as it slid away.

"Hup!"

Andrew drew a sharp breath and forced his drifting sword to a halt. Meanwhile, Encrid pressed down through his left big toe and pushed off as though gripping the earth. CRUNCH. He drove his body forward around his planted left foot. He didn't even need the Will of the Instant. Closing the gap, he stepped with his right foot and shifted his weight with it. In the same motion, he drove his palm forward, the movement flowing from ankle to waist. It was a Balaf-style martial arts strike combined with Audin's Gather and Burst. He didn't put his full strength into it. That would rupture Andrew's organs and kill him. He neither added impact with his grip strength nor tensed and released every muscle in his body. He used only the knack of snapping the blow short. Encrid's palm met Andrew's stomach. BANG!

It sounded like a hide drum bursting. "Urk!"

Andrew flew backward, his feet leaving the ground. 'Too hard?'

A little. Andrew staggered back and retched up sour bile, then spent a long while catching his breath. Still, he hadn't dropped his sword. 'He has improved.'

As Encrid watched him quietly, a voice rang out. "Lord Andrew!"

Mac hurried over in alarm. Once a nursemaid, he was now a butler. A change in position and circumstances called for a change in conduct. He had become a retainer in Andrew's service. As the ashen-faced Mac reached him, Andrew waved a hand. It seemed to mean he was fine, though he was still coughing. "Trying to kill him?" Rem asked.

"That's not what I did."

"With him coughing like that?"

"Looks like something went down the wrong way."

"... That's your excuse?"

Ragna, watching nearby, supplied the last remark. Why did those two always seem so perfectly in sync at times like this? Andrew took a few breaths and sent Mac away.

"I said I'm fine."

His voice cracked a little, but the blow hadn't been hard enough to do much damage. It had been a padded-hammer sort of hit. Of course, that meant the hammer Audin wrapped in cloth before walloping Encrid with it. "It'd be a shame to stop here, wouldn't it?"

Andrew let out a long breath and waited for Encrid's answer. Watching him, Encrid thought he had something up his sleeve. He was looking forward to finding out. "All right. Let's keep going."

"Yes, let's."

Andrew, too, had faced death to make it this far. Turning into a side-on stance, Andrew stepped forward. They exchanged several more blows, but Encrid naturally won. At one point, Andrew closed the distance and charged shoulder-first, but Encrid dealt with that expertly as well. "Have you learned wrestling or some other martial art?"

"You remember Audin?"

"The soldier who looks like a bear?"

"That's him."

"So Audin taught you." Andrew knew perfectly well that Encrid learned things from his own soldiers. Though the technique he'd spent years developing had been defeated, he felt refreshed. Honestly, who had been around lately to put him so thoroughly in his place? Since surpassing Mac, he hadn't had anyone he could spar with at ease. Even as a vice baron, he had become something of a deserted island the moment he sided with Krang. Everyone else formed cliques and factions; he was alone. He desperately wanted to test himself against a Knight or another skilled fighter. Lately, his skills seemed to have stagnated. Encrid's arrival was welcome rain in a drought. Andrew felt more than gladness; he was elated.

"Why don't you stay a few more days?"

The invitation came naturally. The eyes of the Gardner family's five watching trainees shone as well. There was so much to learn just by watching this spar. In truth, they couldn't even follow it properly, but someone that skilled seemed to have a connection with the head of their house. Surely they could pick up a few scraps? Encrid looked over the five bright-eyed trainees. As far as he could see, at their current level, they ought to spend all day swinging practice swords. They needed fundamentals, not techniques. But should he ignore that eagerness? An old memory came to him, a memory of his previous visit to the capital.

["You want to learn swordsmanship? Then it'll cost you ten gold coins."] That sword instructor had been a sneering bastard. He'd boasted that he'd been one rank below platinum as a mercenary, and that he would have become a platinum mercenary had he stayed in the trade. He had been good, though not as good as his boasting suggested. ["Hey, I'll teach you a technique, so bring that serving girl from earlier to Van's house tonight."]

He'd also been a bastard who proved that skill and character bore no relation to each other. Encrid had refused, and he'd been beaten within an inch of his life that day. No, the man had meant to kill him, but he'd somehow survived. Luck had been on his side: some passing guards had seen it and intervened. It was sheer good fortune that they'd happened down that alley. Seeing his old self from those memories in these people, Encrid couldn't turn his back on their desire to learn. The five Gardner trainees seemed to burn with every bit as much enthusiasm as Andrew's eyes showed now. He truly couldn't ignore them. "Sure, why not."

"What, we're staying? Then get us something good to eat. You're a noble, aren't you?"

Dunbachel responded the instant she heard. The others didn't seem particularly concerned whether they stayed or went home. And so they decided to stay a few more days. Encrid respected the trainees' aspirations. Which meant he started right away, determined to reward their passion and enthusiasm. "A thousand downward strikes."

"... Pardon?"

One of the trainees at the front, a heavily freckled woman with a ponytail, questioned his instruction.

"Eleven hundred." Andrew had experience with Encrid. They weren't called lunatics for nothing. He thought fast.

"... Do as he says. Begin."

At his command, the trainees raised their swords one by one. As they all began swinging clumsily out of reflex, Encrid spoke again. What followed lay somewhere between a scolding and a lesson, with some torment mixed in. That, at least, was how it felt to those on the receiving end. "Cut with all your strength, determined to cleave your opponent. Is that right? Your stance is slipping. You're putting strength into your thighs, aren't you?" THWACK.

As he spoke, he struck a trainee's thigh with the flat of his gladius. The trainee cried out.

"You're screaming over that?" Encrid knew the sorrow of wanting to learn and having no chance to. He had decided to stay and do something for them. This was the first step: drilling them in the fundamentals. The harsher it was, the easier their next step would be. He knew that from experience. They lacked the right mindset? He could fix that. With his hands, his feet, and Rem.

"Rem?"

"I'll lend a hand." Dunbachel quietly gauged the situation, then grabbed a trainee.

"Hey, is this the time to be looking around? Want me to gouge your eyes out?"

She did as Rem had taught her. Extending her claws, she mimed gouging in front of the trainee's eyes. The trainee went ashen. "Um, Captain?"

Andrew couldn't understand why they were suddenly doing this. That it was meant kindly was even harder to believe. But he couldn't very well tell them to leave now. He studied the trainees' faces for a moment, then gave up. In any case, surviving their torment would make the trainees better. They would improve. Andrew himself hadn't been the same after that barbarian Rem had beaten him senseless. And so Encrid settled into Andrew's residence for a while.

* * *

Rise in the morning, practice the Isolation Technique, then train and spar. Encrid immediately resumed his routine.

"Ragna, come out. I choose you."

"Gladly." A spacious training ground had been laid out behind the mansion, apparently at the expense of a garden. Excellent. Encrid was satisfied. The mansion's cook provided every meal, and the food wasn't bad. Esther had fallen in love with the wool cushion. She turned into a panther and refused to leave it. Odd-Eyes seemed quite pleased with the place too. He bossed the other horses around and seemed to be making the rounds among several mares at night. A male through and through. Encrid spent his days following his routine: eating, drinking, shitting, resting, and training. Meanwhile, a few trainees dreamed of escape, but Andrew talked them down.

"Opportunities like this don't come often." He soothed them well enough, even as he kept training with a face drained of color. Naturally so, since Encrid had been putting his body through its paces since dawn. The way his arms trembled as he spoke lent his words credibility. Sincerity, too. His own training was anything but easy. It had all started with a remark from Encrid.

"You look a little out of shape. You've put on some flab."

It was nonsense, but Andrew had no answer. When they'd washed together, he'd seen that Encrid's body was a lethal weapon. Especially that third leg. That really was a weapon. "What the hell? That's not fair."

The words had escaped him unbidden.

"What isn't?"

"Nothing." After that, it was more training and nothing else. Two days passed before Rem asked,

"Is this right? Coming all the way to the capital just to train?" Honestly, Rem knew full well that Encrid was exactly the sort of bastard who'd do this and more. So why bring it up?

"Why?"

"Not going to see the sights?"

"I was planning to go out this afternoon for some armor," Ragna added. Wasn't training and sparring fun enough? Encrid thought so, but he respected everyone's wishes.

"Ragna, make sure you take a servant. Don't stray more than five paces from them."

"That would be a nuisance."

"If you leave now, I don't know when we'll ever see you again."

"The capital may be complicated, but I've already memorized the streets by sight." Ragna shook his head, trying to refuse, but the others chimed in.

"As if."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Did you hit your head?"

That was Jaxon, Rem, and Dunbachel, in order. "If I tell you to take someone, take someone."

Encrid was firm. Ragna had to agree, however reluctantly. "I'll go have some fun too. What's the point of coming all this way otherwise?"

"Suit yourself."

Encrid intended to stay another three or four days, then leave. Jaxon had been going out on business since the first day. Dunbachel watched quietly for a while before moving as well.

"I'll go look for a sword too." Her scimitar's edge was badly damaged, beyond what a whetstone could repair. Here in the capital, there would be good steel and weapons. Even if she couldn't have one made, she ought to find something that suited her hand. Encrid doubted he could find a weapon better than the swords he already carried. Besides, there would be other days. Better to spend his time on these people, so full of the same passion and longing he'd once had. "You live here, so you don't need to go out."

Encrid delivered something resembling a death sentence to those who remained. "Aren't you going sightseeing?"

One of them worked up the courage to ask.

"No."

Encrid remained unyielding. 'Keep progressing.'

Move forward. Teaching them didn't mean neglecting his own training. Quite the opposite. What was it they said about learning by teaching? 'Fundamentals.'

He hadn't forgotten how important they were. He'd heard it until he was sick of it on his earlier visit to the capital, too.

["The fundamentals. What do you think you can do when you haven't even mastered those?"] You needed a solid foundation to move forward. Encrid had built one. Now, as he taught the five trainees, he revisited his own fundamentals. It was an unexpected stroke of luck. Teaching and reviewing what he knew took him further than simply thinking it over could have. And he'd learned so much lately: Audin's Gather and Burst, Ragna's fast and heavy sword, Rem's way of handling any weapon, Dunbachel's swordsmanship, which used the spring of her entire body, and even Teresa's shield techniques. He hadn't had time to digest it all. But did he necessarily have to digest everything? One thought led to another. Just as he wanted to immerse himself in those ideas, a sound rang out. WHIZZ. The sound of something cutting through the air triggered his dodging sense. He didn't even need to turn his head. An arrow. He gauged its trajectory by sound and half-turned his body. TAP. The arrow landed in Encrid's hand. There, atop the wall, stood some mad bastard, brazen as could be in broad daylight.

"Who the hell are you?" Encrid asked.