Chapter 198 - There Are Two Textbooks
The man with the fists shot forward, stamping on the ground. His ankle bent elastically, propelling his body forward. A perfect transfer of power from his knees and thighs to his upper body. He was terrifyingly fast, but not so fast that he was difficult to react to. He was, of course, no match for Rem.
Rem lifted the axe in his left hand at an angle, feigning a downward strike. Just before the man's fist reached him, the moment his head was about to be split in two, the charging man's speed increased even further. It was enough to leave a faint afterimage—a technique to blur the opponent's vision with a sudden burst of acceleration.
WHOOSH!
Rem's left axe cut through the air. The fighter, having closed the distance, planted his right foot as a pivot, slammed down his left, and threw a-knuckled fist. It was obvious at a glance. He was a properly trained man.
And then, THWACK!
"Well now, why would you stick your neck out for an axe?" Rem's calm voice followed the sound.
Enkrid replayed the scene he had just witnessed. A charge at a constant speed, then a sudden change in tempo. There probably weren't many who could have easily received that blow. At best, they could only dodge, and after they dodged, the opponent's fighting style would have been to continue attacking from within his own range.
Hadn't Audin said it? "A fighter who uses his fists puts more effort into controlling distance than anyone else, brother."
Rem's response to that charge, which was intended to seize control of that distance, was almost indifferent. He pretended to play along with his left axe, then swung the axe in his right hand several times faster than his left. It was a similar tactic to his opponent's, but the result was different.
The axe blade, flying like a ray of light, struck and severed his neck. The fist, now without a head, lightly tapped Rem's stomach. It had, of course, no power behind it. The severed head flew through the air, floated for a moment, and then fell to the ground with a thud.
The body of the man who had thrown the punch collapsed as Rem pushed it away with the back of his axe hand.
"He's no pushover. Everyone, stay sharp!" shouted the man with the poleaxe.
Then, five men closed in on Rem. Five men. Three with a trident and a sword, and one fiddling with a dagger.
"This is exciting."
Even against the five, Rem was calm. No, he was beyond calm, even doing a little shoulder dance as if he were enjoying himself.
Ragna walked forward, his hand on the grip of his sword. He was heading for the man with the poleaxe.
"Kill him!" the man with the poleaxe shouted.
At that moment, the female bandit on the tree branch shot something.
PING!
A short arrow aimed for Ragna's shoulder. Ragna twisted his body to dodge the arrow, and in the same continuous motion, he drew his sword. It was as smooth and natural as if it had been prepared.
SHING. He drew his sword and made a wide slash. The man with the poleaxe brought his weapon forward to block it.
TANG!
"Ugh!"
Did he think it was a slash without much power behind it? The man with the poleaxe, having blocked the sword, tilted to the side for a moment.
Then, a second arrow flew with a ping. Ragna, naturally, dodged it. The short arrow hit a stone on the ground and ricocheted with a clang.
'Up there.'
Enkrid's eyes also caught the arrow's point of origin. Up in the tree. A small figure was shooting arrows with a device on its wrist. Enkrid also moved. He didn't have his whistle daggers, but he had the Sword Tempering Style he had properly learned.
He stretched time for an instant. Activating a point of focus, he gauged the distance to the opponent and then flicked his hand. It was his left hand, which he could now use as skillfully as his right, without a sword in it. The dagger, thrown with concentration and sharp senses, cut through the air.
The one in the tree, like a monkey, hooked her legs around a branch and dodged by flipping upside down.
THWACK!
The dagger passed where she had been and embedded itself in the thick tree trunk.
"Kill him! Roomt!" shouted the poleaxe-wielder, seeing this.
Soon, someone approached Enkrid. It was a man with two daggers. The man named Roomt's eyes scanned Enkrid's waist. There hung the daggers he had recovered after killing the escort.
"You, those daggers…"
"They were a gift."
He answered without a breath before the opponent could finish his sentence. Roomt furrowed his brow. He had sparse eyebrows and unusually small irises, giving him a menacing impression. Well, a menacing impression and skill were two different things, so it didn't matter.
'A common face in the mercenary world.'
Among mercenaries, there were countless men who decorated their faces with scars, looking menacing just at a glance.
"He was my student."
The opponent was in his forties. To be fighting on the front lines at that age, he must be quite skilled. His heart pounded. He should be better than his student. But would he be better than the gnoll leader? A strange sense of anticipation arose. On top of that, if he had a wish… Rem has five, Ragna has three. Why do I only have one? The last one was the monkey-like fellow flitting through the trees.
Rem was facing five, smiling and brandishing his axe. His five opponents showed caution, having seen him kill their comrade in a single blow. The poleaxe-wielder was also cautious. If you have the numerical advantage, it's better to slowly surround the enemy than to charge in blindly. The man with the poleaxe and his two comrades formed a circle around Ragna. It was the same for those facing Rem.
"I'll kill you, and then I'll rip that beastkin bitch's crotch apart."
He didn't know what his relationship with the bodyguard in black was, but he looked thoroughly enraged. Yet he didn't charge in recklessly. Was it caution? No, it was likely experience.
Enkrid had no intention of waiting. He kicked the ground and moved forward. Having gained a new enlightenment about swordsmanship from the few words he had heard from Ragna, he maintained a point of focus and sharpened the edge of his senses. The tingling killing intent emanating from his opponent pricked his skin.
As Enkrid charged, Roomt's two hands moved. They were fast. Terrifyingly fast. As his hands moved with a whoosh-whoosh, the two blades looked like many.
Enkrid thrust his sword forward, based on the formal sword style. His plan was to thrust, block, then parry and coil inwards for a stab. His opponent swung his two daggers and parried Enkrid's sword.
CLANG!
It wasn't a parry of strength, but of technique. A technique that disrupted balance by striking the center of the blade. Enkrid couldn't stab his original target. The tip of his sword was deflected. As his sword was deflected, the man closed in and thrust with his dagger. It was a trajectory that momentarily escaped his vision. From bottom to top.
Sensing the blade's approach purely in the realm of his sixth sense, Enkrid put strength into his left big toe and stopped his body. He momentarily restricted his body's movement. As he pulled back his elbow to block the approaching dagger's tip with his bracer, the dagger bent like a snake and aimed for his chin. It was unorthodox, fast, and bold.
Enkrid tilted his head back. The tip of the blade grazed his chin with a flick. After that, he retracted his extended sword, and his opponent rolled to the side to dodge. Then, he crossed his two daggers and glared at him. His eyes seemed to ask.
'You dodged that?'
Enkrid thrust his sword forward again, unconcerned. What reason was there not to dodge? To be honest, if it were before he had mastered the Instinct of Evasion, he probably would have been a goner. But now, if he perceived it, his body reacted.
He was a quite satisfying opponent. But… he could also see openings. He was clearly a cut above the men who had come with the beastkin Dunbakel, but…
'Above top-class, below quasi-knight.'
That was his assessment of the opponent's skill. With that thought, Enkrid pushed his sword forward again. The daggers flew at him again. It was a technique he had seen once.
THUMP!
What he had learned while harvesting the heads of gnolls in their field wasn't just the Instinct of Evasion. His swordsmanship had also improved, and he had the Heart of the Beast. Awakening his heart, power surged through his entire body. He put more weight into his left foot. He pushed forward, as if pressing down. A monstrous strength that his opponent could not have gauged or predicted was unleashed.
His concentration and sharpened senses made the flying daggers look not like afterimages, but like a series of disconnected frames.
TA-ANG!
Sparks flew as the dagger struck the flat of his sword. That was the end of it. For a technique to be effective, it needs at least enough power to contend with the opponent. The dagger could neither push nor deflect Enkrid's sword. He had crushed it with overwhelming power.
In the slowed time, he saw his opponent's eyes. Seeing his panicked eyes, Enkrid thrust his sword forward.
Pukok.
The leather armor covering his chest was torn, and the blade passed through. Until the very end, his opponent tried to twist his body to deflect the sword, but the sword Enkrid held was too good. The tip of the blade had mercilessly gouged the leather, and cutting through the flesh and muscle that remained was no trouble at all.
Starting from below his collarbone, he stabbed diagonally and then pulled it out. Blood gushed out with a psshak.
PING!
Then, a short arrow flew, aimed at Enkrid. Ragna had dodged this as part of a continuous movement. Enkrid imitated him. Dodging the arrow, he pivoted on his left foot, momentarily showing his back to hide the beginning and end of his hand movement, and threw a dagger.
HWOONG!
The monkey-like female bandit hadn't expected this. The knife embedded itself in her thigh.
"Guk!"
The monkey-like female bandit was fixed in place on the tree branch.
Enkrid's fight was over early. And why not? It had ended after exchanging just two attacks and defenses. Enkrid's gaze naturally turned to Rem and Ragna. Well, those two were, of course, overwhelming their opponents.
They were men who were said to be 'on the cusp of a quasi-knight,' and who could even kill a quasi-knight if the situation was right. The difference in skill was obvious. The cause of their defeat was, of course, ignorance. They did not know Enkrid and the Madmen Company. Because they did not know, they had to suffer.
Enkrid's gaze turned to Ragna.
HWOONG.
The poleaxe feinted a thrust and then came flying in horizontally. Ragna swung his sword to meet it. A defense? No.
TAANG, KAGAGAK.
'A bind.'
Blocking with the edge would damage the blade, so he blocked with the flat, then controlled his strength to wrap the poleaxe with his sword. Then, a spear and a rapier flew at Ragna from the left and right. Both seemed to use speed as their weapon. The presence of the weapons extending from the hands of the two female bandits was menacing.
In a short moment, Ragna combined several movements into one. First, he gripped the hilt with both hands and raised it, pushing the spear up and to the left as if coiling around it. The flat of his blade remained in contact, so it was still in a bind. After deflecting the spear's trajectory like this, he thrust straight forward. It was neither fast nor slow.
As he stepped forward while wrapping the weapon, the spear and rapier crossed and passed through the space where Ragna had been. The man with the poleaxe gritted his teeth, pulled his weapon in, and pushed away the thrusting blade. Ragna, without using unnecessary force, took another step forward. He aimed the tip of his sword at the left side of his opponent's head. The poleaxe-wielding bandit leaned his back, but he couldn't completely dodge it.
Skrrk.
With a gruesome sound, the man's ear was half-severed. Blood drenched the left side of his face and trickled down. The hands of the two women waiting nearby became faster. The rapier flew as if dancing, and the female bandit with the spear swung it wide, sweeping at his feet.
Ragna, immediately after cutting the ear, retracted his sword, deflected the incoming rapier by blocking its path, and completely escaped the range of the blade aimed at his feet by leaping to the side. It was a harmony of astonishing range control and exquisite swordsmanship.
'Why?'
And Enkrid, seeing this, had a question. It felt like he was fighting while gauging his opponent's skill. Immediately after feeling the question, he also realized the answer.
'He's showing me.'
What is swordsmanship? Every movement has a meaning. Ragna's evasion had a meaning beyond that. The place he had moved to was to the right of the poleaxe-wielding bandit, and because of that, the female bandit with the rapier had to look at Ragna with the poleaxe-wielding bandit between them.
Without a breath, a one-handed thrust. Having moved back, he charged forward again and aimed for the poleaxe-wielding bandit's neck. This too was neither a fast nor a slow strike. To put it more clearly…
'Just enough for the opponent to block.'
Enkrid's eyes became busy. His mind became even busier. Each and every one of Ragna's movements was a lesson. It was a place of learning, something like a textbook that he couldn't miss. But he couldn't just watch Ragna; Rem was doing something similar.
"Tsaaah!"
With a strange kiai, he swung his axe in a wide vertical arc. One of the approaching bandits blocked the axe with his longsword.
CLANG!
The sword broke on impact.
"Bastard, my axe is a good one!"
Right, that axe is a good one. He had picked it up from a mercenary and given it to him.
Rem was also fighting with some of his strength held back. So, he too was focused on demonstrating. If Ragna was emphasizing the exquisite nature of formal swordsmanship and the meaning behind it, which was different from his usual style, Rem was showing how to fight, not just focusing on swordsmanship, while utilizing his relatively superior strength. If you don't use what you have an advantage in, what will you use? It was as if he could hear Rem's words.
On top of that, it was about how to fight. He didn't just use an axe to defeat his opponents. He was grating on their nerves by not resting his mouth.
"Was your mother a ghoul?"
He also saw him using what he had learned from him. And yet, his axe delicately parried, struck, and slashed at their weapons, and his unhesitating steps subtly seized a better position than his opponents.
And watching the two of them, Enkrid had a new realization.
'Those two are better at showing with their bodies than with words.'
It had only been a short moment, but he felt like he already knew what the two of them were saying. He truly felt it so.