Chapter 658

Chapter 658

What Enkrid displayed was a form of flawless protection. It was an airtight bulwark constructed from sheer reflex, high-level blade work, and a panoramic awareness that seemed to capture everything at once. His cognitive processing was particularly remarkable; he didn’t fixate on singular points, but rather on lines, and further still, on the entire plane. He ignored the individual trees to perceive the whole forest. By tracking the totality of his rival’s physical frame, he could react instantly. Even in those frantic heartbeats where life-or-death choices are made, he never hesitated.

Had they been engaged in a lethal struggle with sharpened steel, the conclusion might have differed. However, that was a hypothetical they couldn’t test in this moment.

“He truly blended those styles together seamlessly,” Rem observed. A flicker of satisfaction warmed him as he watched Enkrid successfully implement the lessons he had provided. Making the perfect choice in a fraction of a second had always been one of Rem’s own hallmarks. That didn’t mean he was ready to concede the match, though. To crown a definitive winner in a true fight, one participant would likely have to perish or sustain a crippling wound. A victory achieved through such means was hollow.

“By that logic, I suppose I’ve been bested,” Rem mused. A true win had to be secured within the bounds of a formal contest. He began to calculate, his mind churning with intent and desire. “He possessed that Uské foundation from the very beginning.” He was well aware of the sheer scale of the Will Enkrid carried, and now the man had returned with vastly improved mechanics. That was the source of Enkrid’s current bravado.

“How is it that he returns from every journey as a changed man?” Rem wondered. It was as if the man had found a hidden wellspring of power somewhere on the continent. But Rem knew better; he had accompanied him to the far west and saw no such miracles. It was nothing more than a cycle of training, day in and day out, repetitive and exhausting. That was the sum of Enkrid’s existence. Rem had followed a similar path, but lately, Enkrid had been pursuing his drills with a terrifying intensity. Even back in the West, when Rem first found joy in the burn of exercise, he hadn’t pushed himself this hard. It wasn’t about pleasure anymore. Once a person finds a purpose, passion follows in its wake.

“I have no desire to lose.” The fire of rivalry outshone any sense of ego. Since he didn’t want to kill his friend, his only option was to win. “Victory, and nothing else.” Discounting the time spent on basic survival needs over the last fortnight, he had searched for a way. “Regardless of whether I use my axe or this method.”

He had bolstered his agility through specialized retreating drills—a tactic he had polished while sparring with Ragna. If he had to label the technique, he might call it Partial Descent. Yet, labels were unnecessary. He simply needed to tap into the power he required as the moment demanded it. And that is exactly what Rem did.

He increased the gap between them and unleashed a rapid-fire volley of projectiles. This didn’t drain much of his internal energy. While he infused the stones with a touch of sorcery, it wasn’t a total expenditure. He didn’t need to incinerate his own life force to fight this way. This allowed Rem to adopt a strategy that mirrored Enkrid’s Uské style, though his version was purely aggressive rather than defensive.

The soaring stones came in waves. As long as the barrage persisted, Enkrid was forced into a defensive posture. Through this alone, Enkrid’s mobility was neutralized. Whir. Boom! Whir. Boom! Two slings, operating on different cadences, launched stones along varying paths, slicing through the atmosphere.

Still, Enkrid parried them one after another. Crack! Crack! Crack! Small detonations followed every contact. Haze rose into the air, and the stray projectiles that were knocked aside began to demolish sections of the living quarters bordering the field. Even a deflected stone carried enough momentum to kill a lesser warrior. Fortunately, no one nearby was frail enough to fall to such stray shots.

Wait—there was one person. Anne, the healer and alchemist, had arrived to collect the foliage of the Druires plant. The girl, marked by red hair and freckles, had just stepped into the danger zone. Enkrid had intended to give her the materials earlier, but she had been busy with her own work and had only just arrived to claim the fairy’s gifts. In that moment, a stone whizzed toward her chest. Without intervention, it would be fatal.

A figure suddenly blocked the projectile’s path. Clang! Ragna drove his massive blade into the earth, using the flat of the metal to swat the stone aside. Having already lost some velocity from a previous hit, the impact was quieter than Enkrid’s blocks. In that sudden, cramped moment, Anne felt as though her entire world had been replaced by the broad expanse of a man’s back.

“This isn’t a safe time to be here,” Ragna remarked coolly.

Anne took in the chaos and managed a reply. “…I can see that.” Her eyes were wide with shock. Aside from her, the others present—Lua Gharne, Teresa, Rophod, and Pell—had either dodged or countered the stray attacks effectively. Only the unfortunate dormitory and various training obstacles were being demolished. A sturdy wall took three hits before finally giving way with a thunderous collapse. The mixture of earth and stone crumbled, sending up a thick veil of dust.

Through the rising debris, Enkrid’s eyes shone with a piercing blue light. He had focused his Will, locking onto his target. If a single gap appeared, he would close in. That was Enkrid’s path to victory—forcing a mid-range fight into a close-quarters brawl where his blade could do its work and the slings would be useless.

Rem was aware of countless ways to detonate a projectile right in a rival’s face. But to use those was to accept the intent to kill. This was precisely why knights were discouraged from dueling one another; once the blood started pumping, the lethal instinct took over. Without a massive gap in ability, it was nearly impossible to end such a fight without a corpse.

Rem’s gray eyes began to glow with a soft light. His internal energy surged throughout his entire body. The radiance seemed to bleed into the high-velocity stones held in his hand. That stubborn fool had irritated him to the point where he was ready to cause serious harm if necessary. He didn’t need a name for what he was doing, but if he was truly forging a path that had never existed, perhaps a name was warranted. Allowing the power of Descent to concentrate only in his hands, he flicked his wrist with a strength that belonged to a giant. That wasn’t a new skill, just a variation of what he already knew.

But what followed was different. “Remain.” He poured his sorcery into the stone he was about to hurl. Within the projectile, he wove a new spell. It wasn’t a talisman, nor a standard Descent. The knight Acker had once been famous for imbuing his Will into his blade; Rem was doing the same with his magic, and doing it to an object that would leave his hand.

“Residual.” Stay behind. Do not vanish. “Explode on impact.”

It was a stone charged with a volatile spell. Guided by his sixth sense, Enkrid perceived a predatory beast rushing toward him. If the previous shots were like a storm of hail, this one possessed a conscious intent. It was as if a living predator had been compressed into a ball and flung at him. Enkrid trusted his gut. He dropped his center of gravity instantly, shifting his weight not to charge, but to parry. He allowed the energy to flow past him, angling his blade, Penna, in his right hand to strike upward.

Penna collided with the beast-like stone. The battle had already demonstrated why a knight’s strength is considered a disaster, but this impact went further. A blinding light flashed, followed by a roar that shook the earth. BOOM!

A violent pressure wave radiated outward. Ragna, looking annoyed, grabbed Anne by the shoulder and moved her behind his frame, then swung his greatsword down three times with his free hand. Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh. The three strikes cleaved the shockwave apart. Even for a knight, it was a staggering display of skill, but no one had time to be impressed. Rem might have actually tried to murder his commander—who cared about technique at a time like this?

“You’ve finally snapped, haven’t you?” Jaxon’s voice rang out. Rem felt the man approaching like a wild cat from behind but ignored him. There was a hint of killing intent, but it was just the usual irritation. Ragna simply stared at the crater left by the blast.

“Great Lord, is it time for our brother to return to Your side?” Audin whispered, as if in prayer.

“Is… is he dead?” Rophod stammered.

Pell shook his head. He had traveled the fairy city and the maze with the man. He had seen him kill a demon and cut down cultists on the road home. That insane captain wouldn’t fall so easily. Of course, if one knew how many times Enkrid had “died” trying to kill the demon Onekiller, they wouldn’t say that so casually—but Pell’s intuition was correct.

“Are we still calling this a duel?” Enkrid’s voice drifted out, sounding remarkably calm. His right arm was limp—perhaps broken or merely suffering from torn muscle. He had switched Penna to his left hand. The blade, a fairy artifact, glowed faintly as it resisted the lingering explosive magic.

Rem looked at him and laughed. “Got a complaint?”

Enkrid was unchanged. Despite becoming a knight and briefly holding the advantage, he was the same man. “Another go?” The captain smiled with a look of pure, manic joy. It was the expression of someone who was truly, deliriously happy.

“You are all completely out of your minds,” Anne muttered, watching them.

To Enkrid, this was perfect. It was exhilarating. What if he hadn’t parried that last shot? Would he have lost his limb? But he had blocked it. Rem had taken the shot believing Enkrid could handle it, and Enkrid had met that expectation.

“Gods, this is a rush,” Enkrid thought. A spark of electricity ran from his feet to his head. The more he thought about the exchange, the more he loved it. What if I shifted the angle? But that wasn’t just a rock. There probably aren’t many more of those. It’s hard to dodge something that fast; a near-miss just sets me up for the next one. Rem always fires in pairs. I have to stand my ground and take them. But how?

He didn’t have the solution yet. But he had glimpsed something—the energy Rem had forced into the stone. Something brand new. A comrade had reached a height Enkrid hadn’t yet touched. How could he not be thrilled? He felt more joy in this moment than a greedy man finding a mountain of gold. They weren’t fighting to the death; it was a contest. That meant he had the luxury of learning and practicing. He didn’t see the path forward yet, but the spark of inspiration would return. He knew how to wait for it now. In the meantime, he would do everything in his power to grow.

“The stars will be quite clear tonight, brothers,” Audin remarked.

Enkrid stopped his internal analysis at those words and looked around at the damage. Crumble. A large portion of the dormitory wall gave way, turning into a pile of bricks. It was the side where Audin’s quarters were located. Half the building had collapsed, and Audin’s room specifically had been opened up so completely that it truly was the best place to watch the sky.

“You’re right. You’ve got a great view now,” Enkrid noted.

Audin just smiled and whispered, “Oh Lord…” The phrase seemed to hold a world of unspoken grief and acceptance.

Enkrid tried to lift his right arm, failed, and admitted, “That arm is finished. I need to rest.” It wouldn’t budge, a result of blocking a monstrous strike in a monstrous way.

“Is that your excuse? If you’re tired of living, I can throw another,” Rem challenged. Upon closer inspection, Enkrid wasn’t the only casualty. Two of Rem’s fingers were snapped. Attempting that level of sorcery with his bare hands had taken its toll. The technique wasn’t perfected yet. But did it need to be? Rem didn’t think so. The more he used it, the more natural it would become, and the better he could refine it.

I need to train more too, Rem thought, though he didn’t say it. He stowed his slings, took up his axe, and stood tall. He spoke up, his voice booming for the benefit of the group.

“In the West, we have a term—’Urkiola.’ In this tongue, it translates to ‘dark sky,’ but it really refers to the dawn just before the sun breaks. All of you are standing in that dawn. You just need to push a little harder. Don’t lose hope. It’s alright. Just give it your effort. Ef-fort. So what if you can’t beat Captain Enki? That is simply your current ceiling. The dark sky—the dawn—that’s where you are. Sometimes, the sun never comes up. But that’s okay, because I am here with you.”

It was a sermon. His eyes were more vibrant now than they had been during the fight. He was radiating a newfound energy. Consequently, the expressions of everyone listening to him began to sink in the exact opposite direction.