Kapitel 69: Chapter 234 - Fel was a Genius
'What did I just do?'
Of course, none of those present were blind. They had all seen what Enkrid had done, and they understood it.
'Evade, close in, and strike.'
A sequence of actions anyone could theoretically perform.
However, it was different. Even if anyone could perform them, doing it so effortlessly was an entirely different matter.
If Enkrid had used a unique sword technique or a trick to achieve that result, they might have marveled at his ingenuity, but they wouldn't have been this astonished.
"Hm?"
The half-giant's eyebrows twitched. Beside him, the rapier wielder did the same, suddenly gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.
It was a reflexive action.
'If he did that to me, could I block it?'
Yes, he could block it—because he had seen it beforehand.
'But what if I hadn't seen it?'
Even though it wasn't cold yet, he felt a chill as if an icy wind had passed through.
The rapier wielder released his sword and rubbed his arm, feeling goosebumps rise alongside the eerie sensation.
'What is that guy?'
It had only been a few days, hadn't it?
He wasn't the only one astonished.
Even his allies, including Rem, were startled.
However, none of the squad members revealed their shock outwardly or expressed it.
Truthfully, they had become somewhat accustomed to it by now.
They didn't understand it, of course. They simply refrained from showing surprise because they'd seen this happen a few times before.
'What exactly did he do?'
Rem stroked his chin, deep in thought. Audin shared similar sentiments.
'Even if the Isolation technique changes one's constitution…'
Could it create talent where there was none?
Audin trusted his insight. He could see and analyze a person's body through the Isolation technique.
While not quite like Frog, who could discern talent with precision, he, too, had an eye for it.
From what he could tell, Enkrid was not someone who had ventured into the realm of talent.
He wasn't a genius. In fact, calling him a mere prodigy seemed like an overstatement.
'Sheer persistence.'
It was his unyielding determination.
His refusal to falter no matter what trials the gods threw his way.
And so, he stood here now.
Audin felt he could glimpse the will of the divine.
The gods spoke; the Father conveyed His will.
"Will you give up? Why? Because I did not grant what you desired? So, that is where your faith ends. That is where your flower of faith wilts. That is where your spring fades. That is where your seasons end."
"No, Father."
Audin muttered softly.
Ragna, standing next to him, didn't turn his head at Audin's words.
In fact, he didn't even hear them.
He was too busy watching Enkrid.
'Again?'
Enkrid had changed.
Amazing. That was the only conclusion he could draw. He had changed, and Ragna was astonished—but he now simply acknowledged it.
Watching Enkrid's improvement had become almost routine.
How had he improved? How could he change like this?
Ragna had given up searching for answers. Knowing wouldn't change anything, and he wouldn't figure it out anyway.
If he asked, the answer would be predictable.
"I worked hard."
Sometimes, with a touch of humor, Enkrid would say something like:
"Turns out I'm a genius."
It wasn't worth asking anymore. All that mattered was accepting the reality.
Everyone was surprised, but the most astonished person was Edin Molsen, the one who had taken the blow.
The second-most surprised was Enkrid himself.
"Again!"
Edin leapt to his feet and shouted.
Considering how hard he'd been hit, it was remarkable how intact he seemed.
Enkrid had instinctively pulled his strength at the last moment.
More specifically, when he extended his hand for the final strike, he'd held back. The count's son looked as though he might spit up blood if Enkrid had gone all out.
So, he had restrained himself, and now Edin Molsen was back on his feet and running his mouth.
Enkrid blinked three times.
He was processing what had just happened.
'Ah.'
A short realization struck him, like sparks flaring and vanishing from a flint.
'Fel.'
Why had he so desperately struggled to defeat the shepherd boy in the wilderness the first time they met?
'Because he's a genius.'
A younger genius than himself. The boy had given him the same feeling as that brat who had knocked him down when he first stepped onto the continent.
In other words, Fel was a genius.
That genius had matched Enkrid's growth step by step, raising his own skill in tandem.
Even though the repeated today had prevented Fel from drawing his sword, when he finally held it, he was formidable.
His habits constantly changed, and he corrected his flaws on the spot.
Even though Enkrid was the one trapped in a repeating day, his opponent had evolved as well.
Thus, he couldn't feel his own growth.
Because his opponent's talent was too extraordinary.
'It was thanks to Fel.'
Enkrid had been so fixated on Fel's sword that he hadn't seen the full picture.
No, he had noticed the opponent's brilliance but hadn't realized how much he was changing himself in response.
Now that he understood everything, Enkrid opened his mouth.
"Alright."
He nodded at Edin Molsen's suggestion.
He wanted to move again, to feel it in his body. This was a moment to perceive and fully grasp his transformation.
"…You."
The rapier wielder was equally stunned, unable to form words. His eyes quivered as he stood frozen, his mouth slightly ajar.
Enkrid, however, responded by facing Edin Molsen once more.
"Don't rely on the goddess of fortune!"
Edin snarled, suggesting that their earlier bout had been a matter of luck.
Once again, Edin swung his sword.
Whoosh.
Enkrid avoided the attack ahead of time.
When fighting Fel, he had learned to predict movements by observing the positioning of his opponent's feet, shoulders, hands, arms, and waist.
If he failed, he'd be injured immediately, and the sparring would end then and there.
What he had gained from those battles now opened the gates of his instincts, allowing him to make full use of them.
His heightened senses, honed through countless sparring sessions and brushes with death, now clearly read the trajectory of Edin's sword.
After dodging the strike, Enkrid pressed down on Edin's wrist, hooked his left foot behind Edin's heel, and shoved his palm against his chest.
Edin tried to twist his body in resistance, but despite having launched the first attack, his position, balance, and timing were completely thrown off.
With a whoosh, Edin was lifted into the air.
He landed moments later with a thud, gasping for air.
He looked like a fish out of water.
Reflecting on it, Enkrid recalled their first meeting. Back then, he had mistaken Edin for either a coachman or a bodyguard and had used the same technique to take him down.
It was a move from the Valah school of martial arts—a technique for breaking one's balance.
"Are you alright?"
Enkrid asked. Edin's face turned red.
They had sparred twice, and both times, the outcome had been similar.
Moreover, the second time, Edin had fallen for the same technique as before.
He could no longer blame it on luck, nor was he shameless enough to try.
Edin stood up.
"I lost," he admitted, turning away.
But he stopped mid-step, glancing back to ask, "Have you truly forgotten my name?"
Enkrid looked at his face for a moment.
He thought he should have remembered by now—his memory was rather good.
But for the life of him, nothing came to mind.
What would happen if he admitted it here and now?
Before Edin Molsen's face could fully twist in frustration, a clear voice rang out.
"Brother, that was a taunt. Why even ask that question?"
It was unmistakably his sibling, someone who clearly shared his blood.
At the sibling's remark, Edin clicked his tongue and turned away with a frustrated expression. Yet, at the same time, there was an air of relief about him, making for an odd sight.
The younger sibling stared at Enkrid with a blank expression. It was hard to read any emotion from those eyes.
Enkrid turned his head.
There were still others left.
The rapier wielder, the half-giant, and the Count of Molsen's guards.
"Who's next?"
He asked.
"Me."
The answer came almost before the question left his lips.
The half-giant stepped forward, striking her shield with her hand—a challenge from the warrior.
"Let's fight."
Up until four hundred days ago, Enkrid had thrown himself into sparring with these individuals with relentless fervor.
He fought without retreating, and in the process, changes occurred.
Unintended by Enkrid, these changes had naturally taken root.
The half-giant felt her fighting spirit ignite.
She was acutely aware that she was in an unusual state of mind and body.
'I don't know what he's done, but…'
The man standing before her had a knack for making her want to fight him.
Morning and night, she found herself pondering over the use of sword and shield because of him.
Above all—
"I'll break you."
Her desire to win against him was overwhelming.
Had she ever encountered someone she absolutely had to defeat?
No, this was the first time.
For that reason, the half-giant's lips twisted into a grin. A smile.
Enkrid found it slightly absurd.
'This person almost never used to show any expression.'
That much he could remember clearly. Even if he had forgotten Eddin Molsen's name, the half-giant's face, skills, and techniques were etched vividly in his mind.
When Enkrid raised his sword, the half-giant tapped it with her own blade.
Ting.
It was a greeting.
Soon, her shield obscured his vision.
That gray wall was her specialty and something he had fallen victim to many times.
Previously, he had needed to use footwork to counter and strike back, but now there was no such necessity.
When the shield blocked his view, Enkrid charged straight ahead.
He didn't sidestep or move his feet nimbly.
It was a straightforward rush.
He closed in on the shield, switched his sword to his left hand, and laid the flat of the blade against the top of the shield. He adjusted his stance, placing his right foot against the lower edge of the shield.
Naturally, his body pressed sideways against the shield, his right hand pushing near its lower center.
The force behind the shield was immense, but this proximity made it impossible for the half-giant to see all of Enkrid's movements.
No matter how skilled someone was, they couldn't react to what they couldn't see.
Enkrid used a modified version of Valah's "Lifting Throw" against the shield.
"WELL DONE, BROTHER!"
Audin unintentionally exclaimed.
Enkrid ignored the shout, focusing on his intent.
Woosh.
He reversed the shield's force, lifting it from below.
Had Enkrid lacked raw strength, he'd have been crushed by the shield like an insect beneath a wagon. But the Heart of the Beast granted him unparalleled power.
Repeatedly experiencing this day had further strengthened that heart, driving his blood with renewed vigor.
He pushed with his right foot and hand, while using his left hand and torso strength to lift and throw.
Drawing in a silent breath, he braced his core and hurled the half-giant into the air.
The sight of her being thrown was enough to widen the eyes of everyone watching.
For the half-giant, who had never been tossed like this—especially by another's strength—it was a shocking experience.
She soared through the air, bewildered.
It felt as if some natural law had been defied.
Reflexively, she angled her shield downward as she fell.
Thud!
True to Enkrid's intentions, his sword had already reached the giant's neck and stopped just before the blade cut into the skin.
The hybrid giant realized she had been defeated.
"...You threw me?"
Surprised, she asked.
"Why? Is this your first time? Everyone has a first," Enkrid replied nonchalantly.
Sometimes, Enkrid's sharp tongue moved before his thoughts did.
"I see."
The hybrid giant acknowledged her defeat. However, Enkrid didn't think there was any need to leave just because she lost. After all, there had been some luck involved this time.
Her inability to gauge his strength played a part. She hadn't been able to prepare for his sudden change, and she wasn't the type to lose easily. Enkrid, who had experienced that firsthand, knew this well.
Thus, he said, "Let's try again tomorrow."
The hybrid giant stared at Enkrid with her large brown eyes. For the first time, there seemed to be something more than indifference in her gaze.
"You're really something."
The hybrid giant said, then with a hearty laugh, she stood up.
"Well, you sure can throw."
Rem's voice came from behind, expressing his admiration in his own way.
"Care to try against me?"
It seemed that Enkrid had made an impact not only on the hybrid giant but also on others watching.
Even the guards, who had been quietly burning with their own feelings, were affected.
Enkrid spun his arm around.
'A little while ago…'
Had his heart's power surged even more intensely?
Rem's words of admiration—"You sure can throw"—weren't just empty praise. Rem must have seen it too.
His heart was more alive, expelling power more dynamically.
This, too, was the result of repeating this day again and again.
"Alright."
Enkrid nodded, beginning to enjoy the challenge. The process of realizing and using his changes through sparring was becoming increasingly fun.
The sparring with the guard was different from that with the hybrid giant.
The guard were cautious from the start, their swordplay focused heavily on defense.
At first, Enkrid moved slowly, then gradually picked up speed with each swing of his sword.
The rapier-wielding instructor, watching from the side, realized that Enkrid was assessing what he was truly capable of.
And naturally, the question arose in the instructor's mind.
'What exactly is he doing?'
How had he changed so much in just a few days?
It wasn't as though Enkrid had suddenly learned some great technique.
Rather, it was that every technique he knew had…
'Become perfected.'
It seemed like he had tested his skills countless times with his life on the line. This had allowed him to gain full confidence in his techniques. His persistence in finding the right way was evident in his steps and in the sword he wielded.
This wasn't a bad thing. Someone who has wandered down the wrong path countless times will never hesitate when they finally find the right one.
The traces of that journey could be seen in the swings of his sword, in his confident steps.
'How?'
Enkrid's body now bore the marks of time. Though the method was unclear, one thing was certain.
The rapier-wielding instructor caught all of this.
It was an incomprehensible thing.
Their sparring went on for quite some time, but in the end, the guard was defeated.
From the beginning, the guard had been on the defensive, which led to his downfall.
It wasn't that he was hiding his true strength—he had never been a match for Enkrid from the start. But it didn't matter in the end.
The rapier-wielding instructor finally stepped forward.
This was the moment of confrontation, where he would apply pressure and dominate the situation.
"Just because you've improved doesn't mean anything will change."
Had he honed his abilities? So what?
'Will' was the privilege of the born elites.
If success were simply a matter of desire, effort, and time…
'Anyone could do it.'
Then knights wouldn't be so rare.
If effort alone could make it, the number of knights would have already doubled.
Thus, the instructor was certain.
Enkrid couldn't possibly overcome his pressure.
"Step aside."
With those words, the rapier-wielding instructor exerted his will.
Soon, an intangible blade of energy appeared.
Enkrid responded by cutting through each one that came his way. That's what he'd done in the past.
But this time, things were different.
Cling.
Enkrid sheathed his sword.
There was no need to swing it anymore. The moment he met the instructor's pressure, he realized something had changed.
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