The foundation of the Technique of Isolation was load. It was a method of cultivating one's physical prowess by repeating movements while carrying heavy weights. It meant that training with heavy loads was not merely about increasing one's strength.
“Shall we start?”
A month had passed. They stood in a corner of the training yard, where the cold still lingered. Enkrid proposed a spar.
Audin smiled and nodded.
“Which do you prefer, your arms or your legs, brother?”
It was a sign that he intended to twist one or the other.
“Your tongue is long, Audin.”
Both were bare-handed. It wasn't as if they had only learned the Technique of Isolation for the entire month. The two glared at each other.
To meet Audin’s eyes, Enkrid had to tilt his head up slightly. The difference in their physiques was clear. Despite that, it was Audin who moved first.
The moment he kicked off the ground, he lowered his body and rushed forward, so fast that for an instant, an afterimage appeared. Unbefitting of his nickname, the praying bear. The old Enkrid’s best response would have been to raise a knee to defend himself.
But he was different now. He lowered his stance in kind, made a fist with his thumb extended, and aimed it forward as if to thrust. It was positioned to burst an eyeball if Audin charged in.
At that, Audin halted his charge and sprang to the side. He kicked off the ground with sharp sounds, his large frame shifting position as nimbly as Aster. Like a swift leopard.
His agility and reflexes were at odds with his size. Knowing that the fight would be over if his back was taken, Enkrid also turned his body several times. Then, at a certain moment, Audin threw a punch.
Somehow, he was now within arm’s reach. Enkrid didn't know when he had allowed the gap to close. He was in a state of Single Point Focus.
Enkrid made his judgment and acted within a sliver of time. He intended to jut his forehead forward to block the punch before it could land. A way to take a hit without getting hurt, one of the wrestling techniques.
Audin, in the middle of his punch, opened his palm and grabbed Enkrid’s hair. Then he pulled the handful of hair downward, drove his left elbow into Enkrid’s back, and pressed down with all his weight. For a brief moment, Enkrid withstood Audin’s strength and weight.
He didn't just endure it; he even attempted to throw him over his back. Audin did not climb onto Enkrid’s back meekly. He applied his weight and pulled Enkrid’s hair forward.
With his hair pulled at such a devilish timing, Enkrid’s center of gravity wavered. He couldn't move his body as he wished. He had lost his balance.
There was nothing he could do now.
Thud.
Enkrid covered his own face with his hands as he was pinned under Audin.
“Instead of an arm or a leg, you gave me your body, Squad Leader brother.”
Audin let out a hearty laugh. It was a cheerful sound.
“If this were a battlefield, I would’ve had a helmet.”
He was talking about his hair being grabbed. As he spoke from underneath, Audin laughed and replied.
“Then I would have used other means.”
He was right. Enkrid hadn't said it out of complaint. He had asked because he was curious about those other means.
“If you had a helmet, instead of your hair, I would have grabbed the nape of your neck with my palm or pressed on the back of your head to bring you down in one go.”
“I see.”
He was still pinned under Audin. The weight of the praying bear pressed down on him, feeling as if his insides might burst at any moment, but to Enkrid, the lesson he had just learned was more important. Leaving the focused Enkrid, Audin dusted himself off and stood up.
A month.
For some, it might be a daily routine that would drive them mad with boredom, but for Enkrid, these were days that had become a calm routine. In the morning, he learned the Technique of Isolation, and after lunch, wrestling. Then, until dinner, he trained his swordsmanship.
After eating dinner, he would review everything he had learned that day. Heart of the Beast, Sense of the Blade, Single Point Focus. All of them had room for improvement.
Why should he stop when he could still advance? Even so, his learning speed was slow. It was slow even with the support of Single Point Focus, Sense of the Blade, and Heart of the Beast.
So Enkrid crawled. He was a slow snail, a turtle that had come ashore.
“You learn so slowly.”
Audin said as he rose and straightened his clothes. The cold had not yet subsided, so white steam rose from his shoulders. The same was true for Enkrid’s shoulders.
Both the Technique of Isolation and wrestling were activities that left one drenched in sweat. Enkrid reviewed Audin’s teachings over and over. It was worth that much.
‘The way to gauge skill.’
The body holds all information. For example, a right-handed swordsman tends to have more developed muscles in his right arm. It was the insight to read an opponent’s experience and level of training by observing their physique and development.
This was something he newly realized after starting to train with the Technique of Isolation. What he learned afterward was also valuable. After building a foundation with the Technique of Isolation, he learned wrestling.
Audin broadly divided wrestling into three categories: Striking, Grappling, and Throwing. He said that if an opponent was smaller than you, the fight would become easier just by throwing and slamming them.
“What if I’m smaller?”
Enkrid knew how to listen properly, but he also had just as many questions. When it came to learning, he never let anything slide by easily. At times like these, Audin would often think.
This was the Squad Leader’s strength.
“If you are smaller, there are ways to fight as a smaller person. Those skilled in grappling, striking, and close-quarters combat might use their opponent’s strength against them. Countering is one such method.”
What the Elf Company Commander had done was probably of that kind. The technique that had felled him with a single gesture of her hand—that was what came to mind. Audin had actually demonstrated such methods.
Audin was kind. Not because he was a great teacher, but when he taught wrestling, he was surprisingly gentle.
“If I apply more force here, the arm will break and the joint will be ruined. Without divine healing, it won't recover, so you’d become a cripple.”
If he made the slightest mistake, Enkrid’s body was liable to be dismantled bare-handed. Naturally, the wrestling lessons became mild.
“Strength and speed are, of course, essential. Besides that, you must learn to identify vital points, how to take someone down, how to break bones, and how to destroy joints. None of these can be learned half-heartedly. That is why you must repeat what you have learned now rather than learning something new. And yet, you still wish to learn something new?”
Sometimes, he would scold him. It was understandable. Rather than reaching a level of mastery in a single technique, Enkrid tried to learn as much as possible and cram it into his body.
‘This is the right way.’
For Enkrid, there was today's repetition. He couldn't hope to master a technique with what he was learning now. To Audin, it might have looked like he was greedy and his body couldn't keep up, but for Enkrid, this was the right path.
His train of thought, reviewing what he had learned, was broken by Audin’s voice.
“Why do you think your hair was grabbed in that last situation?”
“The distance.”
Enkrid answered plainly. He wasn’t caught because he didn't know.
“That’s right. The distance. I have told you countless times, yet you are truly dull and slow, Squad Leader brother.”
Enkrid was unfazed. Words like that didn't hurt him. He didn’t have time for that.
He was too busy reviewing what he had learned today. There were dozens of types of grappling techniques alone. Just memorizing them and roughly pounding them into his body was already his limit.
On top of that, he had to learn throwing and striking, and instill the basic principles in his body.
“I have told you time and again. Stamina is essential. Reading the distance is the same as in swordsmanship, and finally, if you are not agile, everything is useless.”
Audin was a good teacher. Not because his teaching methods were excellent.
‘He doesn't know how to give up.’
Even if his student was slow and sluggish, showing no visible growth, he taught with persistence. For Enkrid, this kind of teacher was the best fit. Persistent teaching was bound to leave some imprint on his body and mind, so while he postponed proficiency and mastery, Enkrid also learned and absorbed with persistence.
“Stamina, distance, physical ability.”
Enkrid repeated Audin’s words. Whether with a sword, spear, club, or wrestling, strength and speed were essential. He had become quite accustomed to gauging distance, but Audin was more skilled than him.
That was why he had been defeated.
“Rolling around on the ground again today?”
When he returned after finishing his wrestling practice, Rem was waiting.
“Gonna rest today?”
The same question every time.
“No.” This time, it was the sword.
There were times when he held a wooden sword, but now, a real sword felt more comfortable. The familiar longsword aimed for Rem’s entire body. He didn't just face Rem every day.
One day, it was Ragna.
“Watching you makes me want to have a go. Squad Leader.”
On another day, Jacksen would step up.
“I have some time. Come out with your sword.”
All of them were people who never refused Enkrid’s requests. While doing so, they all had similar thoughts. For instance, Rem thought: ‘What kind of talent is this?
Does he need real combat experience?’ It seemed his skills had improved day by day on the battlefield, but now that he was back in the city, he was back to square one. Of course, he was better than before.
But there was no dramatic growth. That’s how Rem saw it. The only reason he was better than before was thanks to Heart of the Beast, Single Point Focus, Sense of the Blade, and the Technique of Isolation.
The quality of his muscles was changing because of the Technique of Isolation. Of course, a month wasn’t enough to cause a dramatic change. Little by little, half a step at a time.
Like a slow snail crawling, so he advanced. Ragna had similar thoughts.
‘His fundamentals are solid, but why is his application growing so slowly?’
Hadn’t his talent blossomed at the age of thirty? Why had he become an idiot again? He couldn't understand.
Even so, Ragna showed enthusiasm. Enkrid was the kind of person who naturally inspired motivation. Every day, whether he had duty or other circumstances, he would somehow repeat the same grueling training.
If he had morning duty, he would hold a rock or something late at night and assume strange postures. The same went for wrestling and swordsmanship. If he had duty during those hours, he would finish his duty, return, and begin his training.
He cut down on his sleeping time and eating time. During group training, Rem, Ragna, Jacksen, Audin, and Krais would often slack off or do things half-heartedly, but Enkrid gave his all even in training. Afterward, he would return to the barracks, go out to the training yard, and repeat his own training.
He was so consistent it was unnerving. That was why Ragna was spurred on by watching his Squad Leader. It was the same for Jacksen.
‘His senses.’
His hearing was at a level where he had eyes in the back of his head. But after that, the acuity of his senses wasn't improving.
‘Why?’
Was it his fault as a teacher? Or was the problem with Enkrid, the student?
‘The problem is with the student.’
He knew from his many experiences teaching. That's why he found it so strange. The way his skills improved so slowly and sluggishly.
‘But he doesn't give up. He's unique.’
Jacksen almost broke into a pleased smile before returning to his usual expressionless face.
‘Why is the Squad Leader so important anyway?’
Even while thinking this, he always did his best. As they took turns teaching him, a rotation was naturally established, and among them, Jacksen was the most diligent. Aster watched the man she had chosen.
The man’s form was captured in the blue eyes of the black panther. How could he be like that? There was a time when she too was madly devoted to the world of sorcery.
There was a time when she needed nothing else as long as she could immerse her body in the world of sorcery all day long. She desired neither food nor sleep nor anything else.
‘And then I ended up like this.’
Aster mulled over her past, then her eyes followed Enkrid again.
‘He is different from me.’
That man's routine was simple and repetitive. He even ate, slept, and rested as if it were part of his routine. The saying ‘he rests hard’ suited him perfectly.
Watching him.
‘If there's anything I can do to help.’
He made her want to help. He was that kind of person. Enkrid himself had no time to look around.
He was literally too busy engraving all sorts of things into his body. He had always been crazy about training, but lately, he had become even more so. The Technique of Isolation was part of the reason.
‘The quality of my muscles is changing.’
He wanted to take off his clothes and look at his body in a mirror. Who would feel this the most?
Enkrid himself.
When movements that were once difficult came out smoothly, he was beyond pleased; he was ecstatic with joy. From thrusts to the fundamentals of the Heavy Sword. With his changed body, everything was different from before.
More smooth and fluid. He was even getting the hang of the Flowing Sword’s glides.
Clang.
Sword met sword, deflecting the opponent's weapon. He had just knocked Rem’s axe aside.
“That’s gotten a bit better.”
It was a glide acknowledged by Rem. It wasn't perfect, but.
‘It’s better than before.’
Even Enkrid himself could feel that the perfection of his technique was different. At the root of all this was the technique for building the body. In other words, the Technique of Isolation.
“Do you regret not learning it sooner?”
Audin had asked him once. Didn't he think he was late in building his body?
“No.” Enkrid shook his head.
He had no regrets about the days that had passed. If such regrets remained. He would have already been trapped in ‘today’.
In the past, the things he learned then were what was important. Therefore, being faithful to the present. That was the right way.
Over the course of the month, he dreamed of the Ferryman just once.
“You live a life no different from being trapped in today.”
The Ferryman, exuding boredom from his entire being, spoke with his chin propped in his hand, and then faded away. Where had the man who had mocked him so fiercely before gone? The Ferryman was right.
Enkrid had spent a month that was no different from a repetition of today. The only things that changed were his duty hours and the weather.
“If you had learned it before, your body would not have been able to accept it.”
Audin had left him with those words. He didn't pay them much mind. What was important was today, right now.
Before he knew it, the day had come when winter, the end of the four seasons, the fourth and harshest, had passed its midpoint.
“Let me see you for a moment.”
On one of those days, the Elf Company Commander came to find Enkrid. When he went out in front of the barracks, the commander stood with her back to the cold, staring at him with her green eyes as she said, “A mission.” The Border Guard’s standing armies were often dispatched as needed.
Fighting on the battlefield was not the entirety of their duty.
“Yes.”
“The task is to escort the heir of a merchant guild. Choose one person from Squad Four and come with me.”
The commander relayed the order with her words. It was a directive from above. Enkrid had to obey.
Requests and missions. He wasn't usually fond of them. But now, he had developed an interest in accumulating merits.
To acquire skill and build merits. It was the path to becoming a knight.