“Believe it or not, I’m indebted to you. I am Pel, the Shepherd of the Wilderness. I hope we can meet again sometime.”
Shepherd Pel said. Encrid, with the moonlight behind him, nodded.
Pel, unable to hold back, spoke as he looked at Encrid.
“I’ve never seen a genius like you.”
Encrid did not bother to deny the words.
In fact, even if Pel had said, “Is your head broken?” he would have let it slide.
Such was the thrill, the joy that filled his entire body.
He was intoxicated by the realization that he had discovered something new, something he wanted to test again and again.
“Can I be cut one more time?”
That’s why. Even though Encrid saw Pel’s expression twist miserably, he couldn’t help himself, even knowing his words sounded like those of a madman.“Um, uh, yes.”
The defeated have no words. He did as instructed.
The former soldier looked at him with eyes full of anticipation as he stabbed his forearm with a knife. Pel thought the guy was a madman.
He had heard the nickname ‘Mad Company Commander’ once, and it wasn’t an empty title.
It suited him more than ‘Former Soldier’.
No, are all geniuses like this?
Come to think of it, there was someone similar in his group.
Did he have to go mad to catch up to that person?
It was the moment when Encrid made someone abandon their sanity.
Of course, Encrid didn’t realize it.
After being cut again,
“Die!”
A clear demand echoed between the screams and roars. It was a will, a pressure.
Encrid focused his mind and responded.
“No.”
He deflected it. Even though it was the second time, he felt he no longer needed practice.
‘It’s not difficult.’
That was also quite enjoyable.
Every time he learned something, he had to roll and tumble. He had to struggle and fight.
To learn The Heart of the Beast, he had to truly die, not just surpass death.
Nothing was ever easy.
This wasn’t easy either.
There had been over four hundred days like ‘today’.
But once he realized the ‘rejection’, it felt as natural as if it had always been part of his body.
It felt like there was nothing easier in the world.
After deflecting the second will, his head spun.
It was a phenomenon that occurred when he concentrated excessively.
Drip.
His nose started to bleed.
“…Are you okay?”
Pel asked. Encrid, estimating the time, replied.
“Can I do it one more time?”
Maybe he could do it one more time.
Then Pel’s face contorted as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.
In the end, Encrid received the third stab.
A knife mark was left on his forearm, like drawing a line.
“Die.”
A dizziness engulfed his mind. The opponent’s will, demand, and pressure suffocated his heart. It choked his neck and tried to burst his heart.
Encrid answered effortlessly.
“No.”
Immediately after rejecting the demand and pressure, Encrid closed his eyes and fainted.
“Huh? Madman?”
He thought Pel had called him something strange before he fainted.
“Commander!”
I think I heard Bell’s voice from behind.
In any case, Encrid fell with a smile.
The shimmering black river looked like a thick, dark fog.
A boat floating above the black clouds, the ferryman on it, and a violet lamp.
It was the usual sight.
The sight he always saw when talking to the ferryman.
However, if there was something different from before,
“You.”
The ferryman stopped speaking.
Encrid looked at his face. The face, which used to show only one eye vaguely, now revealed his eyes, nose, mouth, and skin.
His skin was the color of gray pebbles.
Black eyes matching the black river, a high nose bridge, and dull gray lips were visible.
He didn’t look human by any means.
But neither did he resemble a giant, a Frog, a Fairy, or a Dragon.
It made sense because he was something unknown, beyond Encrid’s comprehension.
Or he might be something like a God.
Or maybe a demon.
“Is getting stabbed a hobby?”
Why would he say that with such an appearance?
Soon, Encrid thought that the change in the ferryman’s tone was partly his own fault.
“I prefer being stabbed with a knife.”
Hadn’t their conversations always been like this?
The ferryman quickly changed the subject.
“You’re walking because you’re mad, and you’re seeing because you’re mad. How do I look? My face?”
The ferryman asked.
Encrid answered honestly.
“You wouldn’t be popular with either gender.”
Though perhaps demons or the offspring of demons might fancy him.
The ferryman chuckled without answering.
His mouth remained still, but the laughter echoed through the space.
His mind became distant and hazy. His vision blurred as well.
Encrid thought the ferryman’s laughter seemed to contain a hint of absurdity, but he couldn’t grasp the ferryman’s true feelings.
In the spot where Encrid disappeared, the ferryman murmured over the black river.
“So, did you enjoy crossing the wall?”
Had Encrid been there, he would have nodded a hundred times.
When he opened his eyes, he immediately knew that today was not repeating itself.
“Why did you come back with knife wounds after going out in the evening? No, did you intentionally get stabbed? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have drawn prettier cuts with my axe.”
Having just woken up, he couldn’t understand what Rem was saying.
Ignoring Rem’s words, he lifted his head.
Pel must have left.
It was Bell who brought Encrid here.
Bell must have said a lot since he witnessed the fight.
Even if he didn’t want to, after seeing him being carried in at night, Rem and the others wouldn’t have left him alone.
A short thought clarified the situation.
He understood what Rem was saying too.
“Does your axe have anything in it?”
“Killer instinct?”
Rem retorted without backing down. Is this guy bored?
“What about Dunbachel?”
“She’s unconscious.”
What did he do to knock out a beastwoman?
Dunbachel didn’t seem like someone with low stamina.
Of course, not as strong as a Giant.
“Are you going today too, brother?”
Audin asked. Encrid realized he had missed the morning training.
The sun was already high. Even with his regenerative and healing body, he had slept until noon?
‘It’s putting a strain on my body.’
He’s beginning to grasp what ‘will’ is. Though it’s still hard to define, displaying the will to refuse was now as easy as pulling a coin out of his pocket.
However, doing it and enduring it are different matters.
“Ugh!”
He blew his nose to relieve the stuffiness, and a blood clot came out.
“That’s disgusting.”
Rem grumbled. He had an axe at his waist, was sweating slightly, and based on the fact that Dunbachel had fainted, it seemed he had just come back from knocking her out.
The only ones watching him wake up were Rem and Audin.
Well, Esther, who was taking a nap on one side, was also there.
Since it wasn’t the first time he had collapsed, no one was particularly surprised or alarmed that he had fainted.
They only asked who the opponent was.
Of course, Bell, the delivery man, had nothing to report.
“Who was it?”
They were asking about the opponent who had come last night.
For him, it was someone he had spent over four hundred ‘todays’ with, so they were familiar and well-known.
“Pel.”
He stated the name right away for that reason.
“Oh, Pel. Yeah, it was Pel.”
Rem said without any change in expression.
My mistake.
“The Shepherd of the Wilderness.”
He corrected himself.
A mad group that herds sheep against monsters and beasts, that’s the Shepherds of the Wilderness.
It’s a name not easily forgotten by anyone who has lived by the sword on this continent.
“Hm? Why did those guys come all the way here?”
“How should I know?”
Whether they were wandering in training or just passing by on some errand.
Come to think of it, he didn’t ask about any of that.
“Looked like you had fun?”
Rem asked again. Why did he have so many questions?
“Quite.”
“You fainted with a smile, Commander. I don’t think you’ve ever done that even when fighting me until your eyes rolled back.”
Fainting with a smile…
He chuckled and shook his head.
“You’re annoying. Move.”
Since he skipped morning training, he needed to finish that first.
“I’ll go to the market in the afternoon.”
“Really, brother?”
Audin nodded with his usual smile.
No one tried to stop him. Rem, having asked all his questions, threw his axe aside and went off to wash up.
After training in the Isolation Technique, he did a quick equipment check and swung his sword a few times in the air before getting ready to leave.
In the meantime, Jaxon came in and then went back out.
Krais came in and asked if he was okay.
“It’s a good age to eat good things.”
He joked playfully.
Encrid told him to hand over anything good he had and enjoyed the new ‘today’.
There had been over four hundred ‘todays’.
He had sparred and trained with them during that time, but being stuck in the same day forever couldn’t be purely enjoyable.
So, this new ‘today’ was welcome.
Even though it wasn’t always the same, it was a ‘today’ only he remembered.
Because of that, he tried not to talk to them much and passed by indifferently.
He had already realized why having a ‘today’ only he remembered was a curse.
Because of that, he could move on. He could forget the times he faced alone.
Above all, the realization of refusal he gained by surpassing those ‘todays’ gave him such a sense of fulfillment and joy.
“What makes you so happy?”
Just as he was about to leave, Ragna asked. It seemed he intended to follow, as he had a sword hanging from his waist.
It wasn’t a good sword. He had picked it up again from a previous battlefield.
If he gets the chance, it would be nice to get him a decent sword.
His tone was rough and could easily be mistaken for picking a fight, but knowing that wasn’t his intent, he answered simply.
“The weather is nice.”
At those words, Ragna looked up at the sky.
Yesterday was certainly good weather. But today seemed a bit gloomy, didn’t it? The clouds were slowly taking on a dark gray hue.
Soon, they would turn into storm clouds, and it looked like it might pour.
Autumn rain is a symbol of changing temperatures, a sign that summer is gradually coming to an end.
“This weather?”
Ragna asked.
“After seeing only bright days.”
It was an inexplicable answer. Obvious to Encrid, but not to others.
Though he usually preferred bright days over cloudy ones, it had been the same weather for over four hundred days.
Even if it poured and filled his boots with water, any change was welcome at this point.
After loosening up with the Isolation Technique and compressing his morning training, Encrid headed to the market.
Entering the inn, the innkeeper, Allen, greeted him.
“It’s nice to see you often these days, but are you alright?”
Being a Company Commander in the Border Guard was almost the highest position one could attain without being a noble.
Allen was respectful.
Encrid found Allen’s comment about seeing him often quite strange.
For him, it was today after nearly four hundred days.
“Well, I might stop coming before we get too attached.”
Allen laughed at Encrid’s response, thinking it was a joke.
Entering the training hall, he saw the Rapier Swordsman leaning against the wall.
“Have you been waiting?”
“I expected you to come today.”
“First?”
“No, the other three didn’t want that.”
The Rapier Swordsman crossed his arms as he spoke. Then he continued,
“Today is the last. It’s a pain you don’t have to go through. You don’t have to challenge it.”
“That’s for me to decide. If you’re scared, you can run away.”
Encrid’s words were like the finest blade on the continent.
Even a short remark, when delivered appropriately, could become a deadly dagger.
“Indeed.”
The Rapier Swordsman hated the words ‘coward’ and ‘run away’ so much that upon hearing Encrid’s words, he steeled himself.
‘With authority.’
Breaking that dream would be good for that guy too.
To aim higher requires talent. Based on what he had observed, he didn’t know what kind of luck played a role, but this is the limit. The end.
Encrid must have exhausted every ounce of talent he had.
No, not just exhausted, he must have pulled out talents he didn’t even have.
Therefore, this is the end.
Encrid walked past the Rapier Swordsman.
The Swordsman, watching his back, frowned.
His gait seemed oddly different.
He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it had changed.
In just one day?
Even if he changed, what could have changed? His mindset, at most.
Next to him, a barbarian soldier who followed Encrid spoke up.
“Our Commander sometimes gets even more broken in just a day, so don’t worry too much. If it gets too extreme, my axe might start dancing, so be careful.”
“Don’t worry, brother. He’s not someone who will die from just pressure.”
A soldier resembling a big bear added.
Always passing by indifferently, the blonde soldier.
A red-haired soldier, who had already taken a spot, as if he had been there the whole time.
Everyone who needed to gather had gathered.
Those staying at the inn, even those Encrid had faced four hundred days ago, began to appear one by one.
Among them, Edin Molsen stepped forward with an unusually stern face.
“I challenge you to a duel.”
Had he not suffered enough already?
While everyone thought this, Encrid fell into serious contemplation.
‘What was this guy’s name again?’
It had been four hundred days. He had forgotten the name.
“What was your name again?”
Somehow, this was like Edin Molsen’s trigger switch.
“What?”
For Encrid, it had been four hundred days, but for Edin Molsen, just a few.
Forget my name? My name?
Edin Molsen lost his temper.
“Fine, I’ll kill you!”
Clang!
Edin drew his sword and charged forcefully.
The guard watching frowned. Falling for such a provocation.
Encrid regretted asking the name as he used his hands and feet.
There was no need to draw his sword, so he didn’t.
Watching the approaching sword, he moved with the steps learned from the Fluid Sword Technique.
With smooth steps, he dodged the blade. It was like a prearranged duel.
Dodging came first, and then Edin Molsen’s blade cut through the space where Encrid had been.
It was a trick made possible by advance observation, judgment, and prediction, but to an observer, it might look like a choreographed performance.
Why swing the sword at an empty spot?
Then Encrid’s backhand struck Edin Molsen’s wrist.
Smack!
Entering within a step, he then pushed the opponent’s abdomen with his palm.
Thud!
Valaf-Style Martial Arts, Palm Thrust.
From the ankle, through the waist, and shoulders, a rotational force was added to the palm strike.
Adding Encrid’s strength to it, it was by no means a light blow.
But the surprising part wasn’t just that.
Previously, when Encrid had knocked Edin Molsen down with one strike, it was half a gamble.
Now it wasn’t. He was overflowing with confidence. It was as if he had become a different person in just one day.
After pushing the opponent away, Encrid looked at his palm and thought.
‘Why is it so easy?’
Has this guy’s skill deteriorated because he forgot his name?
That couldn’t be the case.
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