Capítulo 220: Chapter 365 – Only the Dot is Visible
Chapter 365 – Only Dots Are Visible
One of the reasons Enkrid had come to the capital was straightforward:
"I'll get a chance to face the Order of Knights, won't I?"
The threat of monsters and beasts didn't just push the development of culinary and construction techniques. It also brought those with exceptional combat skills into the safety of walled cities.
This was a necessity, both for survival and defense.
Among those who gathered, the pinnacle of martial strength was the knights, and the capital's Order of Knights stood as a symbol of military might.
When categorizing combat abilities at city, national, or continental levels, where did the benchmark begin?
Where did the term "Squire-level" originate?
All of these standards were born from the existence of knightly orders.
And this one was no exception.
The Marquis had investigated Enkrid. He had grasped a general understanding of his preferences.
What held more value for Enkrid than money, women, status, or power?
By digging into his past, understanding his journey, and discerning his purpose, one could get a sense of who he was.
The Marquis had done precisely that.
"They say I'm supposed to be a gift. What's that supposed to mean?"
Asia said as she stepped into the estate, and Enkrid thought he caught a glimpse of the Marquis smiling faintly behind her.
Aesia stood in one corner of the training yard, lightly armed and equipped with a sword.
'A cunning serpent.'
Andrew had once described the Marquis as a man who had swallowed dozens of snakes and possessed the innards of a hydra.
The description fit him perfectly—an inscrutable man.
Was he on the queen's side, Krang's side, Count Molsan's, or perhaps that of Viscount Mernes?
Or was he building a faction of his own?
No one could say for sure.
As the Marquis of Okto, he merely existed in the capital.
Given his substantial influence, even the queen couldn't dismiss him lightly. As one of the great nobles alongside the Marquis of Baisar, he shared in dividing the kingdom's power.
In the current kingdom, there was no Grand Duke or anyone above the rank of Duke, making the Marquis of Octo a central figure of authority.
Would such a Marquis side with Krang?
The emergence of a Grand Duke, unprecedented till now, would affect his own power.
It was said that the Marquis of Baisar didn't welcome Krang either.
Marcus himself had stated it outright.
Yet despite Enkrid's obvious alignment with Krang, the Marquis had personally sought him out, conversed with him, and entrusted him with tasks.
An inscrutable man, indeed.
For now, though, none of that mattered.
"This isn't something you need to worry about."
Enkrid was pleased. Standing before him was one of the opponents he had longed to meet and, if possible, spar with.
"Speak casually."
Aishia nodded and responded, her demeanor as direct as ever. Her short, bright orange hair caught the light as she brushed it back with her hand, her gaze fixed firmly on Enkrid.
It was astonishing and bewildering.
To her, the mere fact that this man stood before her was an anomaly.
She vividly recalled the time at the Border Guard when Marcus had asked her to test Enkrid's abilities.
The image of Enkrid fainting under the pressure of her aura was still fresh in her mind.
'Luagarne did say he was different.'
But Aesia trusted her instincts more than others' words.
It was only natural for someone walking the knight's path to rely on their own experiences and conviction over hearsay.
Back then, she had judged Enkrid's potential as barely reaching the level of a Squire if he was lucky.
And even that was a generous assessment. From her perspective, he had no room for further growth.
Yet now, this same Enkrid stood before her, commanding respect with his reputation and meeting her gaze unflinchingly.
'How did he do it?'
What had he done to achieve such feats?
A spark of curiosity, akin to the thrill of competition, ignited within her. She wanted to measure his strength for herself.
Though she was here for work, she realized immediately upon seeing him:
She wasn't just anyone in the Order of Knights, nor had she become a Squire by accident.
Becoming a Squire required a combination of talent and an insatiable hunger for improvement, honed through wielding weapons, mastering martial arts, and immersing oneself in combat.
Locking eyes with Aesia, Enkrid paused what he had been doing and faced her.
"Do that thing again."
She casually adjusted her speech, as he had requested, and her straightforwardness left a favorable impression.
"What thing?" she asked.
"Your aura."
"You'll faint again."
"Just do it."
This time, there was no trace of support from his subordinates, no collective intimidation as there had been before.
Andrew Gardner didn't even register in Enkrid's mind. The only concern was the subordinates he had seen under Andrew's command before, but even they were nowhere in sight.
Aisia unleashed her Will. She shifted her stance, turning sideways and placing her hand on the hilt of her sword in a gesture of readiness. Will was a technique based on mental force, used to break the opponent's resolve.
"Kneel. Or die."
Enkrid felt the killing intent laced within her Will.
An imaginary blade flew toward him. He knew it wasn't real. The Enkrid of the past, who would close his eyes at the sight of a blade or buckle under pressure, was long gone.
His Unyielding Will rose, pushing back against Aisia's oppressive force.
Taking a step forward, Enkrid advanced toward Aisia.
Her pupils widened. She had heard the rumors, but seeing it for herself made her understand.
This man was the real deal.
Luagarne's assessment had been accurate. Her own judgment, honed by experience, had failed her.
Unlike before, when she would overcome pressure by brute force, Enkrid had deflected her Will with his own.
"A duel?"
Enkrid asked plainly.
"Very well!"
Aisia's reply was exuberant.
Shing!
The slender, straight rapier at her hip was unsheathed in a smooth motion.
Holding her blade upright in front of her face, she spoke.
"Surely you didn't think Will was my only specialty?"
"If losing isn't your hobby, you'd better take this seriously."
Enkrid's response was a subtle provocation.
Aisia's smile widened. Her expression seemed to say, I'll fix that attitude of yours.
Enkrid found her reaction deeply satisfying.
As Aisia raised her blade, Enkrid adjusted the grip on his sword belt, ensuring his movements would be fluid.
He shifted his left foot and let his arms hang naturally—a stance of readiness just before battle.
A duel right upon arrival.
Matters of discussion and business? None of that mattered now.
Aisia had started seriously from the beginning.
There was no need for clumsy exchanges to test the waters.
Both of them were Knights-In-Training, possessing significant martial prowess.
The fact that Enkrid had resisted her Will was proof enough.
"I don't know how many Wills you use, but get ready. This will be fun," Aisia said, pointing her rapier forward in a smooth, deliberate motion.
Enkrid instinctively measured the distance.
Five steps. The pointed rapier gave the illusion of being right at his nose.
Enkrid shifted sideways, repositioning to face the sun at his back. Aisia, however, didn't step forward. Using her left foot as a pivot, she smoothly redirected her blade, keeping the tip fixed on Enkrid.
The rapier's point still hovered before his eyes.
Initially, Enkrid focused on Aisia, but soon his gaze shifted to her entire figure, then narrowed to her shoulders.
Pinpoint Focus naturally activated.
This was a genuine Knight-In-Training.
Even though Enkrid had faced knights before, he didn't underestimate her.
With the Heart of the Beast, he embraced boldness.
With Pinpoint Focus, he locked onto his opponent.
He heightened his Sense of Evasion, preparing for anything.
Despite his readiness to launch an attack at any moment, his field of vision began to shrink.
From seeing her full body, his focus narrowed to her shoulder and hand. Then to the rapier and the fingers gripping it.
Eventually, all he could see was the blade itself. His sight contracted further until only the rapier's tip remained.
Finally, even the blade disappeared, leaving only a single point. A point so large it seemed to block his entire view.
He knew in his mind that she was merely aiming her sword.
And yet—
"I can't gauge the distance."
The five steps between them had vanished.
All that remained was the single point at the rapier's tip.
There was no oppressive force, no pressure. Naturally, his Unyielding Will didn't activate.
All he saw was the rapier's point.
Enkrid couldn't even attempt to find an opening. How could he, when his focus was wholly consumed by a single point?
The more he concentrated, the larger the point became.
"What are they doing?"
Watching from the sidelines, Andrew felt baffled.
First, Enkrid had stepped forward with confidence, then called for a duel.
Now, after unsheathing their swords, both of them were frozen.
Wasn't this supposed to be a battle?
Andrew had expected a high-level duel but was growing increasingly impatient.
"Should I say something?"
"Leave them be."
Just as Andrew considered speaking, Rem appeared behind him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
Andrew froze as Rem's grip locked his shoulder and neck.
"If you interrupt, that blade might come flying at you."
Rem's words carried weight as he gently pulled Andrew back. Obediently, Andrew allowed himself to be led away.
Rem wasn't the only one present.
Ragna, Jaxen, and Dunbakel had also appeared, their gazes fixed on the center of the training ground.
Sweat began to bead on Enkrid's forehead.
Aisia, too, was far from composed.
The energy radiating from Enkrid was fierce and untamed, like a volcano ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.
If it erupted, maintaining her current advantage would be impossible.
The art of swordsmanship in Rionesis was divided into five styles: upright, deceptive, heavy, flowing, and swift. These styles were established in a cycle of strengths and weaknesses, each countering another in a carefully balanced relationship.
An upright sword was weak against a deceptive sword.
A deceptive sword faltered against a heavy sword.
A heavy sword was disrupted by a flowing sword.
A flowing sword struggled against a swift sword.
And finally, a swift sword was caught by the upright sword.
While these general rules applied, victory was never guaranteed. The degree of training and individual mastery always played a significant role. A lesser-skilled swordsman could still deliver a fatal blow if underestimated. After all, the saying goes, "A sword has no eyes. A blind strike can kill anyone, for death is fair to all."
The concept of will—Will—was humanity's answer to overcoming these limitations. The refinement of willpower became the hallmark of knights, transcending ordinary skill.
Aishia wielded the deceptive sword. Her technique relied on exploiting her opponent's focus, countering with precision strikes.
Rem, Jaxen, and Ragna analyzed her moves immediately, each devising a potential counter-strategy. These three, being geniuses, found it natural to discern such techniques at a glance. However, they also knew that Aishia could adapt, so the outcome of a direct confrontation was never certain.
Dunbakel, observing from the side, had a simpler strategy in mind: "Strike before she draws."
Enkrid, on the other hand, didn't fully grasp the intricacies of Aishia's style at first glance. But years of training and countless battles had forged his own path—a unique mastery that belonged solely to him.
It didn't matter if he saw points, lines, or shadows. If he couldn't break through, he would shatter the obstacle entirely.
The moment he realized time wasn't on his side, Enkrid acted.
Shiiik!
The sound of Enkrid drawing his sword was sharp and otherworldly, almost too swift to comprehend. The blade left its sheath with minimal friction—a testament to relentless training.
This was Will of momentum. The blade sparked like a fleeting ember, slicing through the focal point.
Clang!
Metal collided with metal. Aishia, feeling the strike meet her rapier's tip, responded with explosive speed.
Whoosh!
Her blade retaliated, faster than it had been struck away, aiming for Enkrid's neck. For a brief instant, it seemed blood would spray forth, but Enkrid evaded just in time, tilting his head back.
Aishia halted there. Any further would have crossed into lethal combat territory.
For a first sparring session, the intensity was extreme. In fact, it was enough to make most knights reprimand them for recklessness: "Were you trying to kill each other?"
But Enkrid's reaction was far from ordinary.
"Again?"
His eyes gleamed with excitement, and a faint, satisfied smile spread across his face. He looked thrilled, as though he'd just escaped death and found it exhilarating.
Aishia, baffled, stared at him. Wasn't this man moments away from being struck down? And yet, there wasn't a shred of anger or resentment in his expression.
"Rest if you're tired," Enkrid added nonchalantly.
Behind them, others reacted to his remark.
"Here we go again."
"Caught the bug."
"Hm."
Rem, Ragna, and Jaxen muttered in turn.
Dunbakel said nothing. She reflected on what she had witnessed, realizing she wouldn't have been able to block Eishia's strike.
The speed wasn't the issue; Enkrid's strikes were faster. It was the timing that made Eishia's technique terrifying.
"It breaks your rhythm."
Dunbakel understood because she had instinctively immersed herself in the fight while watching. Eishia's strikes slipped through the natural pauses in breathing, making them nearly impossible to avoid.
If it had been me, my neck would have been severed.
Of course, Dunbakel wouldn't have engaged the way Enkrid did. She would've immediately retreated and tried to reset the distance.
But even then, victory seemed uncertain. Dunbakel exhaled sharply, frustrated by the thought.
"You're kind of a strange person," Aishia finally remarked to Enkrid.
"And you're smiling," he replied with a smirk.
He was right. Aishia, rarely one to indulge in pleasure or excitement, found herself grinning. She hadn't felt this thrill in years.
"Don't you have breakfast? I came here on an empty stomach," Aishia said, shifting the topic.
"Andrew?" Enkrid called to their host.
Andrew nodded. Meals were always prepared promptly in this household. For this group, food was a priority, no matter the chaos surrounding them.
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