Chapter 376 - There Is No Next Time

'Crazy bastard.'

Watching Encrid smile, Aesia nearly lost her composure, but steadied herself. Unless she intended to kill the bastard, she had to stop him here. Her younger sibling being held hostage. The utterly unexpected person behind her. Complicated thoughts piled up in layers, then vanished. With that man smiling before her like that, she had nothing to say. "You must have a reason to get through. Well, I have a reason to stop you."

The words rose unbidden from within. Why? Why was she saying this to Encrid? She couldn't say. The atmosphere simply urged her on. So she hardened her face all the more. Concealing her expression, she began letting her sword speak instead. Point Aim was not her only specialty. She would never lose to him in technique. Between her and Encrid lay a gap he could not close in a short time. She acknowledged that he was stronger, but the gap in technique would not be so easily bridged. Encrid excelled in both strength and the game of moves and countermoves. But no matter how good he was at the latter, there was no answer if he lost every exchange on the finer points of technique. Encrid closed his eyes again.

"You'll die doing that."

She did not intend to kill him, but that was no reason for him to let his guard down.

"Try it, if you can."

Encrid would not back down. For a moment, Aesia found that frustrating. "If you wait for next time instead of doing this now, you won't have to risk your life fighting."

Even as she spoke, she knew the answer. Encrid's reply was all too obvious. She had known him for only a few days, but she knew exactly what kind of man he was. "If not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the next time."

Encrid spoke with his eyes closed and his sword leveled.

"If I'd ever thought about a next time, I wouldn't even be standing here before you."

Aesia clenched her teeth. They fought on. In the end, Aesia put two holes in Encrid's forearm. She also left a wound in his thigh deep enough to sink a finger into as far as the first joint. In the meantime, he lost his grip on Silver and gifted her a long cut across the cheek with Spark. "It would have been easier if I'd meant to kill you," Aesia said, catching her breath.

The sun had already begun to sink. The blades of the rebellion that had begun in broad daylight must have reached every part of the palace by now. Sure enough... "That's enough now."

A voice came from the unlit shadows behind Aesia.

"Dispose of that."

The voice spoke again. Lying on the floor, Encrid looked past Aesia. There was no light. He could not see the person clearly, only a silhouette. A dark, dense silhouette. Even standing in the darkness, the figure seemed vividly distinct. Who was this now? The presence he felt, and Aesia's attitude, gave him an idea. This man stood above her. The darkness was there because the candles had not been lit. A man emerged from beyond it. Color filled the silhouette as he came closer. Watching him, Encrid felt as though an unstoppable boulder were rolling toward him. 'He's not a knight.'

Instinct and experience told him that. Hadn't he already faced one? It had been just a single stroke, but through it he had experienced a knight, and so he knew. This man was not a knight. His hair was drab, a longsword hung at his waist, and he held a bloodstained dagger. Aesia turned. Though she knew Encrid still had enough strength to land another blow, she turned without hesitation. Raising her sword toward the rear, she said,

"Let's stop here, sir." Encrid could see Aesia's back and the front of the man whose weighty presence overwhelmed her. The man with the dagger tilted his head. His wavy, dark brown hair shifted with the motion.

"Aesia?" "This is enough. What are you going to do when the master returns?"

Encrid found her words utterly unconvincing. Even she could not believe what she was saying. "If you can't do it, I will."

The man strode forward as he spoke, and Aesia unleashed her intimidation once more. A wall. The wall that had blocked Encrid had turned to face the other way. "You'd better stop," Encrid muttered.

It was hard to gauge the man's ability. Was his eye for such things still lacking? He didn't know. It felt like looking at Ragna or Rem. ["Do you think all proto knights are equal?"]

Aesia's words struck home anew. Had she said that during their sparring because of this man? Perhaps she had. The man ignored Aesia's intimidation. His pace did not change.

"Aesia."

Still sitting, Encrid called her name again. She did not answer. Instead, she raised her sword and aimed. Point Aim. And once again, Encrid saw an answer to defeating her sword. The fourth, after Rem, Ragna, and Jaxon. The instant Aesia leveled her blade, the man took one great stride forward and struck its flat with his dagger. She had used Point Aim, but it was useless. Encrid understood in an instant what the man had done. The realization came naturally, now that he was seeing a fourth answer.

'Aiming doesn't make the actual blade go anywhere.' The sword was still there. If one could knock it aside by force, one could break Point Aim. It was a technique that broke anyway if Aesia swung first or blocked. Thus, even if someone simply approached and swung a dagger, she had no choice but to deflect or block the attack. But the blow had to prevent her from using a deflection technique, and cut off any chance of a counterattack. There were quite a few conditions to satisfy first. How, then, had he managed it now? Encrid could see the answer, but not the entire process. 'Normally, she'd deflect it and strike again.'

Her rhythm had been broken. Displaying such a technique with a single dagger meant his skill was on an entirely different level. Not all proto knights were equal. Those words sank deep into Encrid's heart. Encrid rose, using his sword as a cane. He could probably strike another once or twice. If he simply watched Aesia die, a few troubled dreams would be the least of it. From the moment he stood, he did not concern himself with whether his sword would work. He was simply doing what he could. "Don't be foolish."

The dagger-wielding man spoke again. Not once did his gaze turn toward Encrid. It remained fixed on Aesia alone. Aesia recovered her deflected sword and thrust along three diverging paths. A stab shaped like a three-pronged spear. Had she called that technique Trident? She had said she devised it after watching fishermen at work in a fishing village. The man stirred his dagger up and down, moving it like a ladle in a pot of stew. That was how it looked to Encrid.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

Three clashes rang out. "Are you really going to do this?"

The man spoke again. Rather than answer, Aesia raised her sword. She changed her stance. Point Aim was not her only specialty. Encrid knew that well. She pressed her weight onto the balls of her feet and shifted her center of gravity. She did not neglect strength training, but plenty of people were far stronger than she was. Had she never devised a means of overcoming that, she could never have become a proto knight. "Do you really want to die?"

There was no rise or fall to the man's voice. No cadence, either. It was closer to a recitation of facts. Aesia's sword flew at him several more times. It curved and stabbed, darting in and soaring upward. It was the technique Encrid had failed to block, leaving his forearm pierced. Delicate and sharp. In speed alone, it rivaled his Will of the Instant. It deserved to be called a trump card. Yet the man blocked all those strikes with nothing more than light touches of his dagger. At last, the tip grazed his cheek, but of course it was no fatal wound. Blood spattered from the nick. The man released his dagger. As the short blade fell toward the floor, his hand closed around the longsword at his waist. Encrid saw the shape of its pommel. A wolf. He gripped the sword and drew it. There was neither lightning speed nor heavy force behind it. It simply left its sheath and moved forward. Yet the blade rose at a peculiar angle and interrupted Aesia's thrust midway. With a clang, her sword was knocked aside. 'How is that possible?'

He didn't know. He had no idea. Watching alone told him nothing. Aesia drew her sword back before her chest. Her flow had been broken. With her momentum gone, another strike would never catch him. As he repeatedly broke her rhythm, her feet tangled. Her tangled steps caught her breath. It kept choking to a halt. She held her breath altogether. Disregarding the flow entirely, she slashed instead of stabbing. A downward stroke, from top to bottom. The vertical cut was not fierce as a thunderbolt, but it was swift as a ray of light. It was like the unconventional move Encrid sometimes used with Spark. The man met the descending sword with his blade and pushed.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

Sparks flew as their blades clashed. Their swords locked in a brief stalemate. Encrid launched himself at that moment. An explosive charge like the one he had used against Aesia was beyond him. But he could still deliver one proper strike. He imbued it with the acceleration of an instant. Rejected the intimidation pouring from his opponent. Unleashed the Heart of the Superhuman while maintaining Concentrate on a Single Point. He drove Spark straight out in his left hand. The outstretched blade imitated sunlight. The sun, its light, touched you the moment you felt it. There was no way to evade it. His stab evoked that. In sheer execution, it surpassed anything he had done before: his breathing and steps, his timing, the spring of his muscles, the strength of his grip on the sword. Everything aligned. It was a stab in which everything simply fell into place, with no room even to feel exhilaration or anything else. Yet his opponent's sword found a gap. How did one avoid sunlight? Stand in the shade. His rhythm broke. Before the stab could be fully realized, the other sword intruded at precisely the midpoint and knocked Spark halfway down its length. There was no violent force, but as its direction shifted, everything unraveled: the power of Gather and Burst surging from his feet through his whole body, his breathing, his footing. Encrid knew his strike had failed. This was the result. The sword in the man's right hand had already cleaved Aesia's heart. "Ghurk."

Aesia coughed up bloody froth. Even as the sword took her heart, she swung her rapier, but all her strength had already drained away. The man would not let even that hit him. He caught the falling blade on his pauldron and let it slide off. His left arm, meanwhile, remained fully extended. A shortsword had appeared in that hand, its point buried in Encrid's chest. The bandage armor had resisted just enough to keep the blade from piercing his heart. It veered aside instead, plunging in through his flank and cutting through other organs. The man's gaze swept over the inside of Encrid's body. Even then, he did not speak to him. His expression was that of someone looking at a pebble by the roadside. Because of the gap in their abilities? No, it wasn't that. Those were eyes looking at a person or an object that had nothing whatsoever to do with him. "There was no way to subdue you without killing you."

He spoke only to Aesia.

"Sir."

Her lips parted, rimmed with bloody froth. Gathering the last of her strength, she spoke once more.

"My sibling."

"Don't worry." The light faded from Aesia's eyes. The burning pain in Encrid's pierced organs did not cloud his mind. The repeating today was a curse; there was no blessing that let him grow accustomed to pain. Thus, the pain was the same now as it had been when he first repeated a today. Even so, he could not take his eyes off Aesia. Setting aside why she had blocked him, why had she turned around here? Why had she stood in front of him? The course of events alone made it clear. She could simply have looked away. She could have turned her back. Then there would have been no need to risk her life. But she hadn't. He understood without asking why. Just as he would not put off today until tomorrow, Aesia, too, had something she could never compromise. What she could not compromise was...

'Not turning away from her heart.' Why had she stood here in the first place? To kill him? No, she hadn't. If she had wanted to kill him, she had had every opportunity. His company members had all said the same thing. ["In a fight to the death, it'll go one way or the other. But that won't change the fact that beating her right now would be difficult."]

Rem had said that.

["If you fight, you'll lose. Almost certainly."]

Ragna had said so too. As his thoughts continued, the man came to stand before him. His black boots entered Encrid's view. When Encrid looked up, the man finally addressed him.

"She died because of you."

His tone was numb, utterly devoid of emotion. Then the man's sword struck Encrid's neck. Pain raced from his neck to his brain. The burning, the pain of flesh tearing, the blackout, the moment darkness enveloped everything. Once he passed beyond that moment, he saw the surging waters of the river. "Shall I show you an easier path?"

The ferryman asked.