Chapter 377 - Meeting Sword Tips

A violet lamp swayed above the rolling black river. His body rocked from side to side with the ferry.

Encrid sat silently at the far end of the ferry, and the ferryman spoke again.

"There is a very easy path."

Encrid did not answer. The ferryman continued.

"Run away."

His lips barely moved, and his voice lingered above the ferry like an echo.

"Run away and avoid meeting your death. Then I will take care of the rest."

Instead of answering, Encrid lowered his eyes to one side. He looked as though countless thoughts filled his head.

The ferryman opened his mouth again. His lips moved, and his echoing voice drifted over the ferry once more.

"If flight does not appeal to you, use your tongue. Persuade your opponent and prepare for what follows. Together, the two of you will be more than a match for him."

If Aesia and Encrid joined forces, they could face the man who would appear behind her. Repeating today meant knowing the future. Not every today would necessarily unfold in exactly the same way, but the broad outlines would remain unchanged.

Fighting Encrid had exhausted and wounded Aesia. The same was true of Encrid. Uninjured and with their strength intact, the two of them could handle that opponent together. They might even turn the tables and win. In a fight to the death, having two on their side would certainly give them an advantage. Of course, victory would not be guaranteed.

"Do you wish to know precisely what the wall is?"

As always, the ferryman's words carried no emotion. He merely stated one fact after another, conveying meaning rather than feeling. Encrid kept listening without answering. Was he mulling over what the ferryman had said?

The ferryman kicked the floor of the boat with his toe. The stamp sent it rocking violently. Encrid braced a hand against the floor to keep his balance and looked up from that position.

A vacant gaze, a face lost in thought, a half-open mouth. That was what the ferryman saw. Encrid's eyes seemed to regain their focus, and he asked,

"Pardon?"

"What did I just say?"

The ferryman had almost displayed emotion for once, but firmly restrained himself as he asked. Encrid blinked twice before answering.

"Oh, I didn't hear you."

It was true. He had been too absorbed to hear. As always, Encrid answered with complete sincerity.

"... Go."

The ferryman's mouth moved before he could think. His words had never even entered this bastard's head. They hadn't gone in one ear and out the other. Nor had Encrid defiantly rebuffed them. He had simply chewed them up and swallowed them. Even the ferryman had reason to take offense.

"Huh?"

Encrid asked again, bewildered. The ferryman knew it was genuine, yet the sight still seemed insufferable. Innocence could sometimes become a weapon that left another's chest tight with frustration.

"I said go."

The ferryman did not bother getting angry or arguing. He need only send him away. And there was a reason to do so.

'I shall watch.'

Watching would reveal just what he was thinking and what he intended to do.

"Oh, all right."

Encrid nodded without the slightest embarrassment. Soon, his figure faded and vanished from the ferry. Left alone, the ferryman silently stared into the darkness.

He would probably repeat the same today. And he would face another moment like this one, meeting the ferryman aboard the boat in the darkness. It was only natural.

The ferryman saw the repeating today "in advance." What would happen would happen. What had been determined would unfold as determined.

Of course, this Encrid fellow had surprised him a few times, but that was all. Besides, no wall could be surmounted in a single day.

Repeating today meant pain and endless suffering. It was structured so that it could be nothing else. That was the very essence of the curse. Yet to a madman, even pain could become ecstasy.

'Madman.'

The ferryman's gaze grew unfocused. It was directed not at the black river, but at Encrid, who had begun repeating his life. The curse let him see Encrid. He watched.

Encrid repeated the same day. He rose at dawn and trained his body. He substituted a kick for persuading the constable. He sent the fellow named Ragna and the Beastman named Dunbachel against the force advancing from outside. He embarrassed the companion beside him by telling the assassins that it had hurt, that he really had been stabbed. Then he headed to the palace and unhesitatingly cut down the ill-fated connection from his past who blocked his way.

He cut and killed. There was no lengthy conversation.

"You were raping the maid, right? I cut you down without asking last time."

"What?"

He ignored the other's bewilderment. No, he had no interest at all in the past standing before his eyes. The man had nearly killed the bearer of the curse, so some grudge might have been expected, yet none was visible. It was not that none existed. It was simply...

'He's fixated on something else right now.'

Encrid looked past the bewildered man to the maid. When his eyes asked whether it was true, the trembling maid nodded. What followed was a succession of swings, cuts, and kills.

Then he faced the wall once more. The orange-haired female knight.

"That's far enough."

She blocked his path. Encrid raised his sword. He asked no questions. It would happen anyway, so there was no reason to ask. No, that was not the reasoning behind his actions.

For an instant, the ferryman glimpsed part of Encrid's heart. Something brimming with anticipation.

'That bastard.'

He was here because he wanted to test himself against the wall. He had run all this way to cross swords with that female knight.

A repetition of the same today. Even if the fine details were not identical, it was much the same day. Of course, some things had differed. Before he reached this place, something had changed during his training after he rose that morning.

"Rem, how did you do that?"

It was around the time the morning sun passed directly overhead. Regardless of what the constable said when he arrived, Encrid carried on talking with the fellow named Rem.

"You wretch! I come here in person, and you dare make idle conversation?"

"Wait a moment."

With that, Encrid repeated his question. Before him, the constable stood with his mouth agape in disbelief.

"Point Aim. You blocked it with your axe blade."

"That's Axe-Blade Aim."

The fellow named Rem blinked and gave a short, blunt explanation.

"Just cover it properly."

In truth, he could offer no further explanation. Encrid also decided there was nothing more worth hearing and turned away. That was what differed in this repeated today.

"You wretch!"

The man he had utterly ignored flew into a rage. That was all.

Afterward, he raised his sword before the wall named Aesia, tried something, and met much the same result. Cut and stabbed, he lost and lay sprawled on the floor.

There was another difference from the previous today. The ferryman already knew it. Encrid did not.

Encrid's gaze swept the space behind Aesia. The man she had addressed as "sir" did not appear. Instead, she said,

"I'll go check behind us."

Aesia left, and that was the end of it. A little time passed, then everything went dark. Today ended once again.

The ferryman looked toward the opposite end of the boat. Fragments like grains of sand gathered, then gathered some more. The tiny particles began to change, taking human shape. It was Encrid.

The ferryman felt curiosity surge within him. There was no need to suppress it, so he spoke.

"I will ask you one thing."

"Huh?"

There sat that Encrid fellow, his gaze still vacant.

"What were you thinking about earlier that kept you from hearing me speak right in front of you?"

Encrid readily answered. It was nothing to conceal. There was nothing to hide, either. He merely wondered why the ferryman was asking.

"I was thinking about how to block Point Aim."

Seeing the zeal and fervor in those eyes, the ferryman became certain. This Encrid fellow had focused wholly on one thing. He had seen only the sword-wielding opponent before him. Wall or whatever the hell it was, that was all he saw, all he recognized, and where he directed every bit of his attention.

The ferryman said something he had no need to say, but was within his authority to reveal.

"Do you consider that the wall?"

He meant to tell him it was not. He was about to tell him to face the real wall.

"I don't know."

About that crap. Those words went unsaid.

So is that important? That's not what matters to me. Those words, too, went unsaid.

Do you have anything else to say? If not, I'd appreciate it if you let me think. Those words also went unsaid.

The ferryman felt an emotion. Disbelief. He was flustered. Faced with an innocence utterly devoid of hidden intent, all the words he had carefully devised to toy with Encrid crumbled into nothing. They mingled with the darkness, dissolved, and drifted away.

"Do as you will."

The ferryman read his thoughts and answered. Yes, try whatever you wish. What you see now is not the wall. Those were the words his answer left unsaid.

Encrid vanished again. He faded, scattered, and was gone.

'Foolish.'

But this was also something the ferryman had wanted. Even if Encrid overcame this wall, it would leave deep scars on him.

The ferryman chuckled.

Nothing would be more delightful than watching him suffer then. The ferryman knew that overcoming this wall would itself become a curse to him.

* * *

'I know one thing.'

It would be worth trying to imitate Rem's method. Not just Rem's, either. He would try everyone's methods once. After all, imitation was one of the quickest ways to understand the person being imitated.

'My own method comes after that.'

When he saw a path, he walked it. That was what Encrid did.

What was the wall, and how far did it extend? He felt the ferryman would have answered if asked. That was the impression the ferryman had given him today. But it did not matter. He had no need to know. So he did not ask. Instead, he pondered.

"What's got you thinking so hard this early?"

It was his third today. He had stopped during his dawn training to stand lost in thought when Rem, who had gotten up late, came out and asked. Encrid posed the crucial question earlier than he had on his second today.

"How did you cover it with your axe blade?"

The sudden question did not faze Rem. This was hardly the first time Encrid had done something like this. His answer came at once.

"Aesia's sword is aimed at me, right? I aim at the tip of her sword. With my axe."

His explanation still resembled a stage where dogs had run riot. A complete fucking mess. Obscure and difficult to follow. But if that were enough to make Encrid give up, he would never have picked up a sword in the first place.

Even Rem recognized how difficult his explanation was to understand.

"Take out Spark and aim it at me."

Rem spoke as he drew his long-handled axe. Though he held it lightly, its balance made one wonder how he wielded it, and it was heavier than it looked. In any case, the mere fact that Rem held it gave it a different weight.

Encrid drew Spark.

SHING.

He raised the drawn sword and aimed. Its narrow, slender blade pointed forward.

As he stood there, it occurred to him that the first step in imitation might be to copy Point Aim.

'Mix intimidation with killing intent.'

In a sense, it was the complete opposite of Jaxon's Intentless Stab. It was a deceptive sword that misled the opponent by applying pressure. Encrid could not copy that immediately. Instead, as he held his sword aimed forward...

CLANG.

Rem struck the sword's tip with his axe blade. More precisely, he struck the pointed end of the blade with the edge of his axe.

"Get it?"

Rather than answer, Encrid sank into thought, mulling over what Rem had just done. A physical demonstration was twice as easy to understand as words. He had already puzzled over it himself, too. Encrid understood.

Rem had struck Spark's point, its very tip, with the sharpest line of his axe's edge. Edge and point had met precisely. This went beyond a feat of skill. It was a marvel.

That action contained a question. Could he make one sword tip meet another at his usual speed and strength?

"Ah."

An exclamation escaped him.

"Try it. You'll understand once you do."

Rem stepped back. Encrid slowly took a sword in each hand: Spark and his gladius.

Making two blades meet was easy. But point against point? Edge against point? It was possible if he moved slowly. Reducing his speed made it difficult but doable.

His muscles tensed of their own accord. That introduced unnecessary force and made his movements unnatural. How could he do this naturally? What skill would it require?

"That's right. You just need to know how to do that."

Rem spoke as he tucked his long-handled axe at his waist. His tone said he had explained all there was to explain.

Encrid did not even nod. He quickly slipped into his own world. Utter absorption.

Watching him, Rem thought what a remarkable man he was. Then he saw Andrew and brought his index finger to his lips. He did not even make a shushing sound, but Andrew closed his mouth just as he was about to speak.

At Rem's gesture, Andrew stepped back three paces and spoke.

"What is it?"

"I'll personally oversee your training today."

"... I'm fine. I can manage on my own."

"No, you aren't. I'll carry on the captain's dying wish."

"But Captain Encrid isn't dead."

"My Continental's still a little rough."

What was he talking about? Andrew had never even seen him speak a western language. The words written on his face were ignored.

Encrid heard the sounds around him and slipped into his own thoughts. He sank deep within himself and pondered.