Torres was still exceptionally skilled. When Enkrid sparred with him, he lost seven out of ten times.
“You've improved.”
Torres said, standing idly as he caught his breath. A new question arose. What would happen if they fought for real with live blades?
He didn't know. Enkrid was not the type to be certain about a fight. No matter how well one handled a sword, a person would die if their heart was pierced by a dagger held by a seven-year-old child.
It meant that regardless of skill, the outcome of a life-or-death battle was unknowable.
“Is that so?”
Enkrid replied while lying on his back, then sprang to his feet.
“I'm next.”
“Come on.”
Though it was the season where one's breath turned to mist, sweat flew and heat rose in the clearing behind the inn. He didn't know how it had come to this, but everyone was fighting only with Enkrid. It was a continuous series of spars.
For Enkrid, it was a precious time. The frontier garrison, including Torres, was skilled in unorthodox attacks. That wasn't to say their fundamentals were lacking either.
A member of the garrison snapped off a branch and held it in both hands, then spoke.
“My specialty is the dagger. Be careful not to get hurt.”
Two branches, each half the length of a forearm.
“We should both be careful.”
“Right, so let's be careful together.”
The garrison member grinned. A heat could be seen in his smile. A pure desire to win, with no trace of hostility.
Clack!
As the branches met and clashed, Enkrid fought again. After exchanging a few moves. He had thought his opponent would naturally close the distance.
But the man crossed the two short branches he held instead of daggers, catching Enkrid's sword and twisting it aside. After shattering his balance with that move, he threw one of the branches in his hand, hitting Enkrid around the torso.
“If this were a real fight, that would've been your eye.” he said.
This man was also outstanding. Almost on par with Torres. He could see why the frontier garrison received special treatment.
Enkrid silently nodded his head.
Another defeat.
It was time for a short break. Naturally, everyone took a rest. Jacksen was leaning against the doorway connecting the clearing and the inn.
As Enkrid stepped inside, Jacksen opened his mouth.
“Just because your opponent holds a dagger, you can't be fixated only on closing the distance. Are you going to fight only with fundamentals just because you've polished them well?" "If your opponent is crawling on the ground towards you, is striking their back with your sword the only answer? Why not kick them?”
Whether he won or lost, Jacksen would speak. It was a time for teaching. Some might think of it as nagging, but not Enkrid.
He opened his ears and listened.
“I didn't know one could use such a technique with a dagger.”
“His original weapon is likely a type of Sword Breaker.”
A Sword Breaker, a sword with a serrated back edge like a saw. In other words, one of that man's specialties was breaking his opponent's weapon.
“It was good that you didn't give him the distance, but you should have considered what would come next.”
Jacksen went over every detail of what had happened in the spar. Enkrid did his best every time. If he had given up the distance, he would have been defeated right away.
That's why he didn't give up the distance. Thanks to that, he got to see the technique of using a Sword Breaker. What he did well, he did well.
Jacksen pointed that out too.
“Try to devise a way to counter it.”
The fundamentals of swordsmanship and training the body.
Learning techniques.
Even the training methods to engrave them onto the body. All of that was good. But he had to think for himself about how to deal with things that happened during a spar.
Those were Jacksen's words.
Enkrid agreed.
He had to repeat the same motion hundreds of times for his body to barely learn it. To make anything his own, he had to ponder it. Review and contemplation.
That was the weapon Enkrid possessed. And so he did.
“My turn after you rest.”
It was another garrison member. A member who was good with his sword and feet. He didn't just use footwork; he frequently mixed in kicks.
He was tricky to fight, but there was just as much to learn from him. All six members of the frontier garrison, including Torres, took turns sparring with him. Though all six used similar techniques, they would also show unique skills.
They had individuality, but their fundamentals were outstanding. There was much to learn. In the past, this kind of sparring would not have been of much help.
It couldn't be helped. After all, a person who has not climbed the mountain cannot truly experience the view from the summit. But now was different.
‘On top of Single Point Focus.’
The technique learned from Ragna was seeing the light. It was only natural that the boldness granted by the Heart of the Beast served as the foundation.
“Keep the edge of your senses sharp at all times.”
Jacksen said.
He meant to maintain sharp senses.
Enkrid nodded.
Leona approached him as he was sweating.
“You must really like it.”
“Like what?”
“Using a sword.”
“Does it look that way?”
“Yes.”
Leona often struck up a conversation. It was usually trivial talk. To Enkrid, she looked like a spider observing its prey.
A greedy spider that would never just let its prey be.
‘Though calling someone with her looks a spider is a bit of a stretch.’
Wasn't she a beauty that would make anyone turn their head?
“Is it because of the Elf Company Commander? You seem to be rather dull to a woman's appearance.”
“That's not necessarily true.”
“So, does that mean I'm not your type?”
What kind of question was this? A playful look could be seen on her face.
“I don't think many men could ignore the beauty of someone on Lady Leona's level, am I wrong?”
He was speaking indirectly, but what he meant was that he wasn't interested. After their trivial conversation, Leona would smile plainly and sit next to the company commander.
“Be careful. He's a womanizer.”
Then, the company commander would spout some nonsense. Leona laughed at his words. Did she understand the elf's jokes?
The jokes that troubled Enkrid made Leona laugh repeatedly.
“You're the wittiest elf I've ever met.”
“I hear that a lot.”
From where, exactly? While preparing to spar, he almost twisted his ankle. With the edge of his senses sharpened, he couldn't help but overhear their conversation.
Their voices were loud enough to be heard without trying to listen.
“We even have a child.”
“Pardon?”
“I mean there are people in the unit who believe that.”
Wouldn't saying something like that deepen the misunderstanding? He felt a bit worried. Leona laughed it off.
It was unclear if she believed him or not.
“Are you not going to fight? Tired now?”
Enkrid looked at those waiting for him and cast his worries aside. The rumors would spread viciously anyway. Because of Leona's surprise confession the other day, the rumors would probably spread even more viciously.
“Enchanting Squad Leader.”
The men guarding outside were calling him that at the drop of a hat.
“The Enchanting Squad Leader who destroyed the sorcery.”
“The Enchanting Squad Leader who can't leave a woman alone.”
It was getting to the point where he was sick of hearing it.
“An Enchanting Squad Leader, are you?”
Even Jacksen had uttered that word.
“Hmm?”
“Aren't all the garrison members looking only at you, Squad Leader?”
Right, it somehow ended up that way. For a full day, they did nothing but spar like madmen. The awkward atmosphere that had initially settled around them was now gone.
They had all bonded through swords and sweat. In return, Enkrid's body was covered in bruises.
“Does it hurt?”
When the one who hit him asked, Enkrid shook his head.
“No.” The strike from a moment ago was breathtaking.
He was replaying it over and over in his mind. Against an overhead strike, feign a block from below and slash the forearm. Split-second judgment, an eye for timing, and even boldness.
The necessary components came to mind on their own. It was the embodiment of an experience he had never had before.
‘Ah.’
Enkrid was once again engulfed in exhilaration. He was intoxicated by what was happening. Sometimes the company commander would step in and do something resembling wrestling.
Leona would occasionally talk to him in between.
“I'm envious. Maybe I should have learned it too.”
She said this while watching the company commander catch his own arm in mid-air and apply pressure to the joint. It was a technique that had Enkrid busy trying to endure it while falling over.
“Utilize wrestling, soldier.”
The company commander also began to chime in. Was it because he saw him listening to Jacksen, or was it pure goodwill? He still didn't know the reason.
But there was no need to question it, so Enkrid maintained an attitude of listening intently.
“Your left-right balance is quite off. Does anyone oversee your physical training?”
It wasn't just the company commander. The frontier garrison members were the same. He heard from a garrison member the same thing Audin had said.
The difference in left-right balance. One could say it was natural for a right-handed person.
“The first step to reaching the limits of a human is to train the muscles of the entire body. Your strength is decent.”
Torres also offered advice.
“Just because it's a dagger, you only thought about closing the distance, right? Try acting like you're going to draw them into even closer combat. What will your opponent think then? Plant a demon in your opponent's head.”
A way to complicate the opponent's mind.
“You have a bad habit. Deceiving your opponent is fine, but you can't lose your fundamentals. Where are you going to place your center axis?”
They also pointed out the mistakes he made while sparring. He didn't know how it had come to this. Enkrid was literally engrossed, engraving everything he heard.
He listened and listened with an attentive attitude. It was different from spending time sparring with his squad members. Did this seem enjoyable?
“Will you have a go with me?”
A swordsman from Polid's side stepped forward. He said this as he unfastened his rapier, scabbard and all, and set it down beside him. Enkrid nodded reflexively.
It was something he had been hoping for.
“An interesting fellow. Sparring like this during a mission.”
“I tend to use my time valuably.”
During an escort mission, they had even seen bloodshed over the succession issue of a large merchant guild. Even in such a situation, Enkrid gripped his sword and swung it. He had to.
The time of others and Enkrid's time were different. Those with talent and those without cannot be equal. Therefore, for someone who needed to make up for what he lacked, time was always in short supply.
The rapier swordsman's interest was piqued.
‘His skill isn't improving in real time.’
He's a soldier with a charm that draws people in. The change in relationship between the men of the frontier garrison and the man named Enkrid was particularly interesting. The wariness that existed between strangers had vanished and melted away.
In its place, he gained their favor. Even though it happened right before his eyes, it was a truly fascinating sight.
‘A rare talent.’
However, his talent wasn't in swordsmanship. His current skill was his limit. The master of the rapier could see that.
The soldier named Enkrid's talent lay elsewhere. It was a thought that came to him because he had encountered many talented people in his life. If he were to hear that Enkrid's dream was to be a knight, he would immediately shake his head.
Nevertheless.
Regardless of his talent.
‘I do want to try teaching him.’
An endless passion. He doesn't let a single word pass him by. His talent was terrible, but he possessed a heavy heat different from that.
A knack for inspiring those around him with passion alone. The instructors who had taught Enkrid until now had felt something similar. They all knew it was hopeless, but in the end, they tried to pour what they had into Enkrid.
They taught him again and again. A passion and spirit that acted as if the word 'give up' did not exist.
“Will you have a go with me?”
That's what made him step forward and open his mouth.
“Eh?”
His companion who came with him looked at him in surprise. He was surprised at himself. They were enemies, if you could call them that.
He thought stepping up here would look foolish. Moreover, if the opponent refused, he would look even more ridiculous. The problem was that he hadn't thought of any of that until after he had spoken.
Enkrid nodded.
“Now?”
His arms were bruised, and his whole body was drenched in sweat. He radiated a heat that blew away the cold wind in the clearing. Hot steam rose from his shoulders.
He must have been tired. Winning or losing wasn't what was important. Right now, that man was purely enjoying the spar.
“Good.”
The swordsman said without realizing it.
Jacksen suspected the opponent's intentions. The company commander nodded with interest. All the frontier garrison members were thinking of cutting him down if things went wrong.
They had no intention of standing by and letting something happen to Enkrid.
And Enkrid.
‘Swift Sword.’
He was busy drawing the opponent's sword in his mind. How should he react? What way of fighting would give him a higher chance of winning?
Could he win?
“Don't think about it!”
Rem had said he'd never seen a bastard who fought with victory and defeat in his head survive. Rather than doubting victory or defeat.
“Have conviction. That comes first.”
Sharpen the blade of conviction. The Heart of the Beast embraces boldness. Enkrid raised the tip of his branch and pointed it toward the sky.
He focused as if gripping the hilt of a sword with both hands. In an instant, his surroundings changed. His concentration blazed, turning the area into the heart of a battlefield.
He saw the armor wrapped around his opponent's body. He saw the thin sword held in his hand. If I can't dodge this, I will die.
Enkrid became completely absorbed in the sudden thought.