WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 790: A Time of Tribute

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Bloodshot veins spread through Rino's eyes. He raised both swords upright. There was no need to cross them yet. What he needed right now was momentum.

He built that momentum through his stance, then turned his Pressure into a physical form. A single sharp sword drove into the fortress wall. Awl-like Pressure forced its way through cracks in the solid barrier and pierced it.

"...What is this?"

Then Rino faced a second Pressure. There was more than one fortress wall.

'Pressure Manifestation twice over?'

Rino's surprise was understandable. It was a skill even Rino had never seen before.

Enkrid had judged that his opponent would not clear the walls easily, pressed down by the kind of formless pressure a Balrok displayed. Not that Pressure itself could kill an opponent, of course.

There were other purposes behind it too, but at its simplest, this was an experiment.

"I didn't make this to use against you, Teacher."

Enkrid spoke kindly. The words held both sincerity and consideration.

"Cut the bullshit!"

Rino barked. The feeling of being pushed back by his opponent's momentum only stoked his anger.

"Take it easy."

Enkrid showed consideration once more. The veins in Rino's eyes looked ready to burst.

'You bastard.'

Rino focused again. Red veins snaked across the backs of the hands gripping his twin blades.

Enkrid acted like a spectator. He pressed with momentum and did nothing else. In some ways, it was exactly what a Balrok did.

Even when an opening appeared, he only watched instead of striking.

One side was calm. The other's eyes and bulging veins on the backs of his hands told the story of his mood and state.

Still, Pressure was only Pressure. Given enough time, any Knight could overcome it. That was only natural.

Rino did exactly that. He crossed three fortress walls.

"Uooh!"

He let out a battle cry. Naturally, it was misdirection. From the middle onward, Teacher Rino had been stalling while measuring the right moment to clear the walls.

It was partly an effort to keep himself in the best condition possible and partly meant to counterattack if Enkrid charged in while aiming for an opening.

But Enkrid had only watched the entire process. After hearing Rino's shout, he merely drew Duskforge.

Even that motion was not especially fast. It was natural and smooth, like the gesture of welcoming and guiding a guest.

That was what made it more frightening. Rino knew it instinctively.

Kirirrirrirring.

The blade emitted a sky-blue light as it thrust toward the solar plexus of Rino, who stood with both swords already drawn.

The draw and thrust seemed to become one movement. Broken down, there were three motions: drawing, pulling, and thrusting. But the fluid movement made them all seem like one.

Tadang!

Just before Rino could cross his two blades against the sword creating Flash, the two swords failed to meet and were blocked by Duskforge.

A sky-blue wall stood between the two blades like yearning lovers.

"...You caught on fast!"

Rino shouted again. The excited cry was still meant as misdirection.

Naturally, it did not work. Teacher Rino's methods had long since become familiar to Enkrid. On top of that, he calmly watched every movement and used the Sword of Chance to block them, cutting off the starting point of each action.

Every attack Rino made afterward was blocked the same way.

When Rino began a movement by extending his left foot, Enkrid kicked that foot away. When Rino tried to cross both swords again, Enkrid pushed Duskforge between them.

Then Rino drew a dagger with a blade so curved it looked bent. The dagger's blade was strange as well, with five serrated teeth like a beast's fangs. Rino caught Duskforge with it.

Then he tried to break the blade Enkrid held.

Kagagagaggang! Fierce sparks flew from the dagger caught against Duskforge, and the shriek of metal echoed through the corridor.

Enkrid did not even check the condition of his sword.

He did not need to. Only the dagger's teeth had broken.

"My Inscribed Weapon doesn't break."

When connected to his Will, its toughness could withstand even a Balrok's blade. Enkrid had already tested it.

He was using every ability his weapon possessed. Duskforge's toughness was itself a weapon.

Having failed to break the blade, Rino tried to pull back while Enkrid was still explaining. Enkrid chased after Rino as he leaped backward, drew Penna upward, and slashed.

The blade split straight through Rino's body.

"...You bastard, the way you handle a sword..."

He hid the sword's toughness, then used the moment he revealed it as an opportunity to attack. That was how one used a weapon.

Rino spoke in admiration. Enkrid replied calmly.

"I learned it from you, Teacher."

"Fuck, I'm no teacher. Still, that was fun."

His split lips scraped together as he spoke. Those were his last words.

"...Well, isn't that enough, then? Teacher."

Enkrid answered the empty air. Torchlight flickered, and shadows swayed.

He walked on, aware that this had been the longest fight since meeting Rino. That had been intentional.

He passed through a corridor untouched by torchlight. When he encountered light again, someone was waiting.

"My name is Donapha!"

Enkrid answered by raising his sword. This opponent enjoyed conversing with weapons rather than words.

Even after facing Donapha's axe, the shape of the fight was similar.

Block, then block again.

Just as he had accepted Rino's attacks, he did the same here.

Defense based on the Wave-Blocking Sword simplified his thoughts and stripped away impurities. He blocked and redirected the falling axe.

'A Balrok's blade work.'

It was similar in form. For a moment, Donapha's Will gathered and settled in the axe. It was not a point-burst, yet an axe stroke that exceeded what simple deflection could redirect abruptly fell from overhead.

The descending axe stroke was sharper than a guillotine blade, and the momentum binding his body was like chains wrapped tightly around him.

'Choosing simplicity over complexity.'

Pressure Manifestation was woven into axe work based on the Heavy Sword Style. If the Balrok's was chains and Enkrid's was a fortress wall, Donapha's axe work came with a net that bound the entire body.

'If you pulled out the Balrok's Pressure and turned it into axe work.'

It would resemble what Donapha was doing now. Enkrid had delved into the principles and source of the technique.

Where Rino focused on the Balrok's wingbeats and the distinctiveness of its weapons, Donapha built skill on the foundation of the Balrok's Pressure.

Of course, it could not threaten Enkrid.

The Will of Refusal tore through and shook off the net on its own. Moving afterward was easy.

A terrifyingly fast axe stroke descended with a boom, tearing through the air, but it was still slower than Rem's axe. At least, that was how it felt.

Enkrid could track Donapha's axe by sight, yet still dodged, knocked it aside, and redirected it. Excellent defense. The sword that blocked waves blocked the axe.

"Wuah!"

When the first strike failed and no counterattack came, Donapha immediately gathered strength and swung the axe again.

By then, Enkrid had also understood Donapha's tactics. Having faced Donapha more than two hundred times, he could not fail to understand them. He had even privately made Donapha a teacher and learned the techniques.

'If an opponent dodging an axe strike loses their stance even once.'

It created time for the next axe swing. That was Donapha's method. It was an interesting way to fight.

One attack bought time for the next.

The tactics Enkrid learned from Teacher Donapha were also one way of getting through today.

At least, that was how it had become in Enkrid's mind.

Another long fight followed. Donapha swung the axe eighty times. If not for a body transformed into a Dullahan's, the arm muscles might have burst.

The forearms had darkened to a scorched blackish brown, and even darker black veins bulged across them.

They could not have reached that state without placing an immense Load on the muscles.

Every axe stroke had been at full strength. Donapha was not the type who could cut down a thousand people.

Instead, when facing a hundred warriors capable of defeating a thousand, Donapha would fight far better.

Each person fought differently according to the way they trained. Donapha had carved out a path of his own.

Rino was the same in that regard.

That was why there was something to learn from them.

They were not half-baked fools who believed training only required time. They were genuine, unlike those worthless idiots who claimed superiority without substance and chased paltry reputations.

In conclusion, Donapha's arm muscles would not burst.

'Donapha must have trained enough for that.'

Donapha was a Knight, after all.

Even with every attack blocked, Donapha's spirit did not break. The axe came down again.

On the eighty-second swing, Enkrid redirected the axe and cut diagonally across Donapha's waist.

Pivoting on his left foot, he spun. The power that had been Condensed through Vortex exploded. Will flowed through ankle, knee, waist, arm, and hand, rolling down to the blade like a boulder on a steep slope.

Duskforge's sky-blue light deepened, taking the shape of a blade. It was the best strike Enkrid could produce.

The strength behind the swinging axe had clearly diminished from the beginning, so he ended it rather than dragging things out any longer.

If he only kept blocking, Donapha would eventually scatter and die while letting out a desperate groan and curse.

Enkrid had done that before. This time, having learned what he could, he paid his respects.

Of course, those respects meant cutting his opponent in two.

Black mist scattered and drifted away behind him.

"I lost."

Donapha's head, which had rolled to one side, spoke. Donapha accepted defeat as always, but today's tone was filled with satisfaction.

The head turned into particles and disappeared. It seemed there was nothing more to say.

Donapha had long recognized the defeat and knew Enkrid deliberately dragged out the fight, but that final strike was the weighty sword stroke Donapha had wanted.

Was Donapha truly satisfied? Enkrid could not precisely read those inner feelings apart from his intuition.

Well, there was no way to hear the answer now.

He pushed through the darkness once more.

"Oh-ho, looks like you know how to use a sword?"

Single-Edge, the third among the teachers he had met recently, spoke and charged in. Enkrid set the stage for her attack. It was consideration so she could use everything she possessed. He dragged out the fight once more.

He focused on defense, minimizing his movements and using only what was necessary.

Single-Edge's Will, rising in excitement, and her sustained combat rhythm were excellent techniques, but they contained much waste. Enkrid stole the fundamentals she possessed and added his own on top.

It was not intentional. It happened naturally.

It happened because Enkrid surpassed her in skill, concept, and Will.

'Reduce the waste.'

He controlled his state until just before he became drunk on omnipotence.

He had learned all the tricks.

Tadang, tang, tang.

The blades occasionally clashed, but neither body had a single scratch. Enkrid blocked attacks in various ways.

At times, he even used the elf's cloak to redirect a blade.

Each time, Single-Edge's eyebrows rose a little higher. Eventually, her excitement cooled. Unable to contain her anger, she staked everything on a decisive strike, just as Donapha had.

It was likely one of her hidden techniques, but Enkrid had seen it thirty-five times.

He stepped back to escape the range of her sword strike, then jumped in again, completely disrupting her attack timing.

'Even after becoming a Knight, fighting itself is simple.'

A Knight could run fast enough to leave afterimages, swing a sword faster than sound, shatter boulders, and cut through fortress walls.

Still, the basics did not change.

Steal the timing, read the rhythm, dodge and strike, deceive and strike, predict and cut. It was a fight faithful to that process.

It was a long fight, long enough that the ferryman would ask whether enduring today like this was the method Enkrid had mentioned.

"Damn it."

Single-Edge spat a curse and died.

It was understandable that she would be irritated after every attack was blocked, only to die from a single stroke.

Still, she too looked fairly satisfied.

It had been a long time since she fought while drawing out her abilities to their limit.

It had not been for amusement. Enkrid had helped her draw out all her skill.

"Thank you."

Perhaps that was why. Single-Edge left behind unexpected words.

Before Enkrid could answer, she scattered and disappeared. He moved onward, and when he reached the campfire's light, he arrived at today's destination.

"You've come."

It was Aoara.

"Yes."

Enkrid skillfully sat beside Aoara in the campfire's light. Up to this point, it was the same as the previous iterations of today. No, it was certainly different in that he had dragged out the time.

Of course, all that time had also been time of tribute for the three teachers.

After they talked about this and that, Aoara seemed about to finish speaking.

"Ha, I both wanted and did not want to see you here again. Honestly, I even considered sending Romen back if he came."

Aoara spoke as she placed her hands on her knees. Just as she let out a small grunt and began to stand, Enkrid casually tossed out the question.

"It's been a while. Want to spar?"

The way he spoke and blinked afterward made him look exactly like the oblivious Ragna.

In truth, he had thought of Ragna and deliberately imitated him.

Aoara showed a brief look of surprise. She seemed to be wondering whether that would be all right.

She blinked, then nodded.

"Sure."

She drew her sword.

Srrring.

The Inscribed Weapon once called Smile was gone. A plain longsword rested in her hand instead.

Footnotes:

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