WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

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Chapter 782: A Different Person Then and Now

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The worst agony was brief, yet it felt long. He opened his eyes with the remnants of that pain still clinging to him. Two breaths brought his ragged breathing under control. Dwelling on the pain would only make it worse, painful enough to drive him mad. No matter what he did, it would never vanish all at once. That was how it had always been.

'It hurts.'

He had never grown accustomed to the pain that lasted until the moment before death.

But did that matter?

Several thoughts chased one another as he endured the lingering pain in his body, like an afterimage.

Enkrid looked ahead as the waves rocked him. The ferryman stood motionless on the ferry. The lamp in his hand remained perfectly still despite the boat's swaying, like a painting of a still life.

"So this is the end you were talking about? Fighting and dying, then fighting and dying again? Your brain will melt from the pain."

Having said that, the ferryman waved the hand not holding the lamp. At the gesture, Enkrid felt his body abruptly shoved backward. The ferryman's manner looked oddly sulky, but that was probably just Enkrid's imagination.

When he opened his eyes again, he realized he was standing motionless. The ferryman's ferry and the river were gone. This was reality, not a dream.

He had repeated this day until he was sick of it. Enkrid checked his surroundings and the condition of his body to determine where he was in the day.

'Was this the start of today?'

The marker for the start of a day had become muddled after the Balrok used its Divine Power to create the Labyrinth. Still, where there was an end, there had to be a beginning.

The ferryman had set that beginning just before Enkrid stepped into the Labyrinth's passage and encountered his first opponent.

Which meant when he met the first enemy.

"Oh, a guest?"

The opponent spoke. Enkrid looked at the man indifferently, but his mind was full of other thoughts.

If the ferryman had given him a little time, he might have sorted out his thoughts. Instead, the ferryman had thrown him out immediately.

That left him feeling disconnected. Hadn't he just been gritting his teeth as he fought the Balrok?

The lingering pain had yet to fade, and the burnt smell of his scorched insides still swirled through his nostrils.

'Still, it's fine.'

Enkrid had experienced this situation countless times. He knew what he needed to focus on at times like this.

The sword, the flow, Will Transference, the results of his training, the movements of his body, and the process of battle.

So he did.

He fixed the branches of his thoughts in one direction. It was one way to cast off and overcome the lingering pain: focus on the things that filled him with exhilaration.

'The sword wreathed in black flame burns even if it merely grazes you.'

The flame whip moved on its own, as though it possessed a will of its own.

And.

'The ferryman's blessing still works.'

The ferryman himself would likely ask why this counted as a blessing.

He had faced a demon's Divine Power, but Enkrid had not changed. He was the same as when he died to that first thrust.

The only difference was that, where he had once clung to the Heart of the Beast to overcome a wall, he was now clinging to something that had yet to be established.

"What? Are you mute?"

The opponent asked as he approached. He was the kind of person who hid countless weapons inside the sleeves fluttering in the darkness.

The opponent moved his hands toward the two swords at his waist, then let them hang without drawing either blade. He judged that approaching unarmed was more advantageous than drawing his swords and raising Enkrid's guard.

Enkrid seemed to be looking at the man, but a closer look showed that his focus was blurred. His gaze seemed fixed on somewhere far away rather than on the person standing before him. Anyone could see that he was lost in thought.

For someone with a Knight's keen senses, it was an opening that could not be missed. The opponent noticed it. Even so, Enkrid merely continued thinking.

'Swordsmanship is a tool.'

What would happen when those tools were combined?

'When I went from junior knight to Knight, I naturally used Will. At the Knight level, I imbue Will with intent, condense it, and use it.'

He had even made blades from Will. The Balrok could do the same.

Enkrid's thoughts burrowed inward. There was much to learn, train, and realize, both externally and within himself.

So that was what he was doing.

By the time all the lingering pain from the previous iteration of today had disappeared, the approaching man blinked and muttered.

"Good grief. If you took a wrong turn, just leave quietly."

His voice was deflated. His words sounded mild enough, but his actions were entirely different.

He narrowed his blinking eyes, shifted his center of gravity back as though he intended to retreat, then suddenly lunged forward.

An afterimage trailed from his body as he drew a line through the air. Enkrid's eyes took in the opponent. It was not particularly difficult. He was fast, but not fast enough to escape Enkrid's sight.

Enkrid felt little danger from him.

The opponent had always been beneath him in skill, and Enkrid had just been desperately trying to land even one blow on the Balrok. The lingering pain had faded, but the lingering sensation of battle remained.

Enkrid reacted immediately.

It simply was not an ordinary sword strike.

His premise of countering with the opponent's specialty was the same as when he first saw him.

'Deception.'

Enkrid was confident in that area too.

He had been looking at the opponent with vacant eyes, then suddenly widened them in alarm as though he had only just noticed the attack.

The opponent believed his attack had worked. Enkrid gave an excellent performance, keeping his eyes startled while moving his hands and feet along a path and at a speed completely different from the expression on his face.

He reached out with his left hand and grabbed the opponent's wrist. He pulled it in and twisted it.

He had never stopped training to build his strength, even before meeting Audin, so he had always been stronger than other mercenaries.

Audin's Isolation Technique had been added to that, and now he used Will as well. With nothing more than a slight twist and pull of the wrist, Enkrid achieved what he wanted.

Crack!

The wrist holding the dagger broke like a piece of wood. At the same time, Enkrid pulled with all his strength, causing the opponent to rush toward him.

The swordsman who specialized in deception managed to flick his other wrist and seize a new dagger, but he never got the chance to use it.

Enkrid ran as he pulled him in. He stepped forward and closed the distance, then drew his head back over his planted foot before thrusting it forward.

No matter how fast his hands were, they could not be faster than a forehead driven in from this close.

He slammed his forehead into the area between the man's nose and upper lip.

Bang!

It sounded like a rock striking another rock.

"Urgh."

Black mist flowed from the man's face instead of blood, and several front teeth fell out.

Cuts from those teeth marked Enkrid's forehead, but he had intended for that to happen.

The blood on his forehead flew sharply backward.

He had continued moving after the headbutt, leaving no time for the blood to run down.

Enkrid was already twisting the opponent's wrist while drawing and swinging his sword with his free hand.

Every movement fell within his calculations. It would not be an exaggeration to say it had reached a level beyond Aker's Web.

It was the harmony of deception and the Correct Sword.

The man who had tried to deceive him had been deceived in turn before he could recover from anything.

"......!"

He did not even have time to recoil in shock. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open. Black mist gathered in that open mouth and spattered like blood, but before it could reach the ground, Duskforge struck his neck.

Enkrid observed the man's expression after his head had been severed. Compared to the expression of alarm Enkrid had displayed as an act, this one was more real.

Naturally. Enkrid had done it to deceive his opponent, while the man whose neck had been cut by Enkrid's sword had truly been caught off guard.

'There's quite a lot to learn.'

He was not referring only to the dead man's expression. The thought had come to him as he extended his sword.

Even in that simple swing, his sword had naturally shot forward like Flash, mixed with the Sword of Chance, and contained the knack of Vortex.

'More than anything, I was ahead in calculation.'

Even when he could not grasp the opponent's intent, he countered with the Sword of Chance and swung his sword through optimized thought.

'What else should I mix into it?'

It was a vague feeling, but that uncertainty no longer seemed so daunting. The Enkrid who had died to the first thrust and the Enkrid of today were different people. Now, he could learn something from a single battle.

His fight with the Balrok had been like that.

"Good."

Enkrid muttered to himself. It was not something he did often. He would not do it unless he was truly excited.

The Balrok was not the only one showing exhilaration, joy, and delight.

Within Enkrid's inner world, the ferryman merely clicked his tongue and called him a mad bastard.

* * *

In terms of timing, the moment everyone's battles, including Rem's, ended was the moment Enkrid's day began.

Thus, around the time Enkrid advanced toward the Balrok again, the Madman Knights were taking a brief moment to catch their breath.

Even so, they were aware of the things gradually emerging from one direction.

Anyone could see that the number gathering in the distance was substantial. There were enough that counting them would become tiresome.

Not all of them were like the enemy Rem had faced or the one Audin had blown apart. Most of those swallowed by the Labyrinth for a long time had lost even their reason, their eyes pitch-black as they did nothing but swing their swords.

Of course, a person would still die if struck by one of those blind swings, so their threat could not be called low.

"Quite a lot. Is that brother still sleeping?"

Audin asked, clenching and unclenching his fist. Teresa stood beside him, a shield in her left hand and a sword in her right, glancing back. Her gaze turned toward the person Audin was asking about.

After smashing the head of an enemy that had charged at him, Rem arrived and threw down the burden he had been carrying over his shoulder. Romen caught Ragna by reflex.

He placed Ragna behind him, and Ragna was now sleeping soundly behind Romen.

Several locals gathered to one side and watched nervously, while Ropord and Fell kept their eyes ahead.

"They keep coming?"

"Exactly."

"That's why that bastard can't become Vice-captain. Slacking off even at a time like this."

Rem answered as he felt the stiffness in his muscles.

"Ha ha."

Audin laughed it off, while Ruagarne, standing on one leg after losing the other, was busy assessing the situation.

"It must be the Balrok, then?"

Her lips moved, but no answer came. Everyone seemed to assume so. Was this the moment when the sense of crisis would surge?

Romen thought so. It would be a lie to say he was not afraid. The numbers and mixture of Wraith Knights massing ahead nearly made him swallow hard.

But the others were not like that. They seemed to have forgotten fear entirely. At least, that was how it looked to Romen.

"I do not see my betrothed."

Sinar spoke calmly as she cast her gaze into the distance. Enkrid, who should have come charging out to run wild even half-asleep and drooling at the prospect of a fight like this, was nowhere to be seen. Naturally, he had to be fighting somewhere else.

After saying that, she spoke again as though the current situation had nothing to do with her.

The Elf possessed beauty beyond human measure, and her way of speaking went far beyond anything a human could expect.

"Then hold this place. I will go where I need to be."

In other words, they could handle things here themselves while she went to take care of her own business.

It was not much different from saying exactly that.

At Sinar's words, everyone except Romen frowned. Romen had placed Ragna behind him and stood guard over him.

For an injured man limping on one leg, and the weakest fighter among them, that was the best he could do at the moment.

Deciding not to give up or be broken did not mean fighting somewhere death was certain. Only fools did that. He had decided to endure, which was why he stood where he did.

Ahead of them, things that were Wraiths or whatever the hell they were continued approaching, each displaying strength at the Knight level.

They were not truly Knights, of course. He could tell from watching the others fight them, and if he set his mind to it, he could probably handle one or two himself.

'Though there are differences between them.'

Even among them, some possessed skill terrifying enough to make him dizzy just looking at them.

One had had its head crushed by Audin, the bear beastfolk, while another had been killed by that bastard Rem.

Amid the stray thoughts filling Romen's mind, an answer came to Sinar's words.

"What are you talking about?"

Rem dug at his ear.

"Elderly sister, where are you sneaking off to alone?"

Audin spoke with his hands pressed together in a prayer gesture.

"Elderly?"

Though she was an Elf, Sinar had been learning how to show emotion. She repeated the bear beastfolk's words, which had scraped across her inner self.

"Who are you calling elderly?"

Audin merely continued smiling, while Sinar's green eyes turned cold. Rem's voice cut in between them.

"The lazy bastard is asleep, and if you two want to squabble, stay here and handle those things. This Vice-captain is taking the wildcat and heading out first."

This time, Audin and Sinar both turned their gazes toward Rem.

"Just because words come out of your mouth does not make them speech."

"I said it before. The Vice-captain position should go to my partner."

As they bickered, the Wraith Knights closed the distance. Among them were some who had become Death Knights, as well as three or four Dullahans carrying their heads beneath their arms while mounted, and even the Minotaur Enkrid had killed.

Romen blinked. All kinds of thoughts filled his head, but when he looked at them, it felt as though he no longer had any reason to be afraid. Somehow, these people did not possess even a trace of urgency.

Footnotes:

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