Chapter 816 - Competition
It is said that a magician is inherently a cold-hearted designer.
They fight using their heads, cornering their opponents at the end of a calculation.
For a magician, excitement is distant, and composure is close.
The man in the black hat was a magician.
A magician whose appearance had not changed at all since the time Esther had known him.
Therefore, he was a magician who had clearly lived for a very long time.
A blue vein popped on the magician's face.
It was likely because the blood flow had accelerated due to his excitement.
Conversely, Enkrid simply poked the ground with the tip of his sky-blue sword, called Dawn, and looked at his opponent with indifferent eyes.
And so, the gazes of the two contrasting figures met.
The magician in the black hat was engulfed in rage, but he had not lost himself.
It was a rage wrapped in reason.
Now was not the time to act on a whim.
But was it right to let this go without saying a single word to them?
'Ignorance is a sin.'
It was a common maxim among those who wielded mana.
It was a world whose philosophy was on a different level from that of ordinary people.
'If you don't know, you will suffer for your ignorance.'
They were ignorant, therefore, they were sinners.
So wouldn't it be alright to offer a sharp word and perhaps a light slap?
Enkrid thought as he looked at his opponent with indifferent eyes.
'Rem's reaction speed has gotten faster.'
The sparring match from a little while ago lingered vividly in his mind.
The explosive muscular strength from his pivot foot, the monstrous heart, the giant-cleaving technique—a manifestation of various shamanistic arts.
'The axe that extended in that process was.'
Faster than the past, when it had been called a flash.
It was a bolt of lightning that fell, leaving only a faint afterimage because it was faster than the sound of tearing air.
Someone who didn't know, or whose skills were inferior, would say that the past and the present were the same.
Because they did not have the eyes to see.
But at Enkrid's or Rem's level, it was different.
'A slight difference.'
That gap, called 'slight', decides victory and defeat, life and death.
How could he be faster?
'It's the optimization of movement.'
He had made the path of all his movements extremely short, and then had unleashed an explosive power when swinging the axe.
'Condensation and explosion.'
In the end, it was the utilization of Will.
It was amazing enough to control the body with only instinct and intuition, but someone at a knight's level could immediately copy this just by seeing it.
Even Enkrid, who had been so scorned for having no talent, was now at a stage where he could copy it in a day or two.
It was thanks to having gained muscular strength, agility, and physical ability on a different level from ordinary people because he had become a knight.
Of course, he would have to devote himself to training all day, but that was not a difficult task for Enkrid.
In any case, it meant that what he had to pay attention to here was the utilization of Will.
'It's Indules.'
For a moment, a change in the nature of the Will swirling inside Rem's body must have occurred.
To be precise, he used shamanistic power, not Will, but hadn't Esther said that their source was the same?
'Like lightning falling from the sky.'
Will or shamanistic power, whatever you call it, Rem had drawn out and wielded the power of lightning.
How had he done that?
He must have displayed his specialty, Descent.
He had called upon one of the eight gods that protect the West.
It was not something achieved through training, but through shamanism, borrowing their experience.
"If we're fighting for our lives, I'm the best."
It was a phrase Rem always had on his lips.
Even if the source was the same, the result changes depending on the way that power is used.
There is a single stick.
Someone will tie a fishing line to that stick and catch a fish, and someone else might commit a robbery with that same stick.
'And yet another might declare they will become king by attaching a jewel to that stick.'
If one were to imagine, there was no end.
Enkrid, though he was aware that his thoughts were branching off on their own, left them as they were.
Imagination that escapes control sometimes breaks the boundaries one has unconsciously drawn and expands one's capacity.
It broadens concepts and allows one to see things from a new perspective.
The day was incredibly clear.
The sunlight was not just warm but hot, and the earth of the training grounds was bone-dry, radiating heat.
The clouds drifted, clustered in a few clumps, and the sky was a deep blue.
The sunlight cut between Enkrid and the man in the black hat.
One side accepted that bright sunlight as it was, while the other looked as if a dark cloud was hanging over his head.
Nothing had actually happened, but that was the atmosphere.
"It's a nice day, tsk."
Rem muttered.
Just as Enkrid was excited, Rem too was excited.
This was after he had dedicated himself to recovery as soon as he had arrived at the Border Guard.
Tap.
Enkrid, who had stuck Dawn into the ground, lifted it as if to slash forward and spoke.
"Enough."
Following him, the gray-haired barbarian also spoke.
"Hey, don't."
And the beastkin with golden eyes.
"You stink."
The man in the black hat had not yet said anything.
He had just been about to move his mana to give them a light warning.
That is to say, the will had arisen, and he had been on the verge of raising his mana accordingly, but all three of them had spoken.
As if they had predicted that he would use magic.
'Are their senses that good?'
There were guys like that sometimes.
Wretchedly sensitive, for mere swordsmen.
Were there three of them?
Esther looked at the opponent and spoke.
"Wouldn't it be better to state your business first?"
Those words also sounded as if she were saying that if things went south, she would bury them all here regardless of their purpose.
'How dare they.'
How many people in the world could do that to him?
Could the chaff of the continent, who weren't even from the Demon Realm, do so?
"If I so choose, I could kill half of you with a single gesture."
The man spoke, and the man with the greatsword entered a combat stance.
The master of the greatsword tensed his entire body.
Tension often becomes a good weapon.
He knew that.
The presence of the two humans and one beastkin standing before him had not changed, but if things went south, a fight would break out.
That was what his instincts told him.
More than anything, it was also a warning from the other self, the one that spewed heat, that had taken root within his heart.
The man from the Lengardis merchant guild couldn't understand what on earth was happening.
He just watched cautiously and then slowly backed away.
He shouldn't have come with them in the first place.
All he had to do was offer a peaceful dialogue and proposal.
The man in the black hat lifted the brim that was slanted over his eyes.
His eyes had already turned completely black, without a single speck of white.
"I'll just take one of your eyes. A cyclops's wish fulfilled."
He said.
Esther was, for a moment, impressed.
It was not a good kind of admiration.
'No development.'
He was an old acquaintance of hers.
The pattern and flow of his mana, the process of the spell's activation and the incantation—nothing had changed from before.
Esther, too, was a genius.
The opponent couldn't imagine it, but she did not forget a mana pattern she had experienced once.
The opponent cast a curse, one of the Forbidden Word spells, that makes bugs burst from the eyeballs.
"Rejected."
Esther moved her mana and dispelled the curse.
She wasn't the only one who had reacted.
"Begone, vile thing, you bastard."
Rem said, holding his axe vertically.
The formless mass of curse made of mana was crushed and scattered before it.
Dunbakel retreated from the terrible stench.
She stood right behind Rem.
"Who told you to hide behind me? You come back having learned only bad things. Later, I'll have to beat that eastern laziness out of you."
"Hey, since you were blocking it, you could have blocked it for me too. Nagging at the drop of a hat."
"A beastkin bastard talking back?"
The two bickered.
It was as if they didn't care about the opponent in front of them.
The magician in the black hat's mouth hung half-open.
'What is this.'
They dispelled a curse?
And so easily?
Furthermore, Enkrid hadn't offered any resistance at all.
He too now had a wealth of experience dealing with all sorts of spells.
He had continuously trained in spell response with Esther.
In that process, he had learned that curses didn't work on him.
He had learned that he didn't have to block them with his senses.
It wasn't for nothing that Esther had brought them here.
It was because they were not a threat.
It would be a bit of a struggle for her to deal with those two alone, but.
'If it's Enki.'
He was someone who could deal with them without any problem, even alone.
And they were also troublesome people who might cause trouble inside the city if left alone.
Then people might get hurt or die.
Thinking this far, Esther felt an unfamiliar emotion.
'Am I worried about people?'
Or did she care for them?
At some point, this city, the Border Guard, and everyone had become a part of Esther's life.
The child who had dreamed of the stars had only known magic and had lived exploring spells, but at some point, she had come to know the preciousness of people.
'Protecting what's behind you.'
She now understood the meaning of those words to the point where her heart ached.
She had hoped that the soldier wouldn't die from some pointless act of defiance.
That soldier's name was Marco, he was the lover of a member of her own unit, and that man's dream was to become a squire of The Order of the Madmen Knights.
'Is all of this unnecessary information?'
Yes.
Her head said so.
For a person who explores and researches magic, it was not important at all.
No.
Her heart said otherwise.
Can a person who does not know how to live life pursue the truth?
'They cannot.'
Out of nowhere, Esther sank into herself and began to organize her thoughts, and Enkrid watched that Esther.
The man with the pitch-black eyes was a magician, and the woman he knew was a spellcaster by the name of witch.
But that woman's blue eyes were incomparably clearer than the man who had been playing tricks in front of them.
They were like a lake that held purity, untouched by the filth of the world.
"So why did you come?"
Enkrid asked.
The man in the black hat was a subordinate; he was a messenger who had to deliver a message.
He was in a position where he could not forsake that duty.
"Why else? They came because they wanted to die."
"The stench is too strong. Can't we just beat them a little to get the smell out?"
Right beside him, the barbarian and the beastkin added a few words each.
'Do I really have to just leave them be?'
The magician had to regain his reason once more, and he was on the verge of sighing.
And does the smell go away if you beat someone?
That beastkin was definitely not just mad, but excessively mad.
"You killed Beelrog, didn't you?"
Enkrid had spoken honestly to whoever asked, but he hadn't spread rumors anywhere.
It was not a story a stranger could just come and ask about.
Enkrid waited quietly, as if telling him to continue.
"He was a very peculiar being. He wandered around, even though he had the ability to build his own domain in the Demon Realm. Well, this is a separate story. Thanks to that, my master has taken an interest in you."
Before his words could finish, the man from the Lengardis merchant guild cut in, wiping his sweat.
"My master's conditions will not be bad either."
Before Enkrid could even answer, the man with the greatsword also opened his mouth.
"My master as well. But personally, I need to confirm if your skills are real."
No, he hadn't just opened his mouth.
With his words, the man swung his greatsword.
Swinging the sword came before taking a step.
The greatsword he swung was already falling on Enkrid's head.
Before this whole movement began, his knees had bent slightly, and with that light movement, he had closed the space.
The distance between Enkrid and the man with the greatsword was such that their voices could be heard, but the sword would have to come three steps closer to reach.
That distance was closed in an instant.
Enkrid lifted Dawn.
The man in the black hat and the man from the Lengardis merchant guild did not see what happened next.
To be precise, they did not see the process, but they saw the result.
BOOM—
It sounded like a large drum bursting, unable to withstand the pressure.
And with that sound.
"Ugh."
The greatsword of the man with the greatsword struck the ground.
There was a sound of it hitting the earth with a thump.
At the same time, his waist bent forward.
Somehow, Enkrid's fist had touched and then left his stomach.
He collapsed forward from that one blow.
He let go of his sword, placed both hands on the floor, and spewed out a mouthful of blood with a retch.
At that result alone, the two's eyes widened.
The magician's black eyes had at some point returned to those of an ordinary person.
And the merchant from Lengardis began the competition first.
"Eternal life. I promise you eternal life."
The magician snorted.
"Eternal life, my foot."
Enkrid did not understand the meaning of their words.
And from the back of the man who held the greatsword, heat shimmered, and something like a mouth formed on it and spoke.
"I will give you land."
Rem, who had been watching, picked his ear and spoke.
"What are these crazy bastards talking about?"
***
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