âNot sure how the rumor got out.â
Encrid saw something quite unsettling in the opponentâs eyes.
He didnât look like someone who just came to test his strength.
What was reflected in those eyes was greed and avarice.
âA former soldier, isnât that a bit arrogant?â
Asked the mercenary Ibarin, lifting his morning star.
It was a threatening stance, a combat-ready posture.
âCan I crack your head with this?â
It seemed to say so with his body.
Nonetheless, Encrid responded while standing still.
âIndeed.â
âYou seem confident in your skills?â
Looking like he was ready to attack without question, Ibarin was testing him. Encrid didnât like that either.
âModerately.â
When Encrid answered roughly, Ibarin frowned.
âFucking arrogant bastard.â
It was a deliberate insult, a tactic to unsettle the opponent.
This was also Encridâs specialty.
In the past, he had spent more days wielding the sword in his mouth rather than the one at his waist to survive.
âUraah!â
The continued disregard made Ibarin move his feet. He approached with a big step and swung his mace.
Was this the feared Ibarin? A city-level strongman?
The approaching speed was too slow. Compared to Rem, it was so slow that the word sluggish naturally came to mind.
Although it wasnât quite to the point of yawning, there was some leeway.
However, he had no intention of fighting half-heartedly.
If he decided to fight, he would do his best.
That statement wasnât just for show. Encrid truly lived by that principle. In everything, he gave his all.
Thatâs how a talentless person could progress.
If he had hesitated even a little in pursuing his dream, he wouldnât be where he was today.
âHe might be different from his appearance.â
He stayed cautious and suspicious.
This could all be a personal tactic.
A strategy to induce carelessness was almost essential for mercenaries.
Whoosh.
Watching the incoming morning star to the end, Encrid sidestepped with his left foot. He spun halfway and drew his sword.
Shing!
He swung as soon as he drew.
Ibarin tried to pull back his swung weapon hastily, but recovering something flying due to inertia messed up his movement.
âUgh!â
The mercenary with a knife scar on his face clenched his teeth and let out something like a battle cry, ultimately dropping his weapon and throwing himself to the side.
The blade sliced through the air. It was on purpose.
Encrid, thinking the opponent might pretend to dodge and then attack, swung his sword simply and focused on defense.
âWhy isnât he coming?â
Although he didnât show an opening on purpose, wasnât now a good time to attack?
âLetâs do this barehanded.â
Ibarin, who had dropped his weapon, said.
What is this? Encrid instinctively felt.
âA phony?â
Later, he would learn that the nickname âConstraining Ibarinâ came from his grip strength.
However, the arms of Encrid, who had been trained to a ridiculous extent through the Isolation Technique, only bore handprints.
After Encrid broke his wrist with the same technique,
âAhhhhh!â
Only a sharp scream echoed.
He was a phony. His fame was built on lies.
âHmm.â
Krais, who had been watching the fight, swallowed a groan.
There were platoon members watching because they heard it was the first guest.
Rem shook his head.
âOnly idiots will gather.â
Jaxon said nothing. Neither did Ragna nor Audin.
They had planned to gather such people, claiming they wanted to meet strong individuals while wandering the world, but a phony had shown up.
âDo you want to continue?â
Encrid asked Ibarin, whose wrist was broken.
âNo! I donât!â
Ibarin got scared.
Encrid thought that even Bell could have handled this. With that in mind, he turned away.
âDonât be too disappointed. They say the adventure begins when you leave the village.â
Krais said. It meant that the beginning and the end couldnât happen simultaneously.
There was a related saying in the East as well. You canât be full with the first bite.
Encrid nodded absentmindedly and thought.
Rem was intense and wild.
Jaxon threatened lives nonchalantly.
Ragna pressed with swordsmanship and was skilled in tactics.
Audin had innate great strength and exceptional body control.
Even with such individuals, Encrid craved new experiences.
âThere is a lack.â
Encrid sought to gain something different. He wanted to fill that void. It was an almost instinctive longing.
But the first opponent, wellâŠ
âA phony.â
A fool had come. Was he disappointed by that? No, he wasnât. Encrid wouldnât be disappointed by something so trivial.
When it came to waiting and enduring, he might very well be considered the best on the continent.
âItâs alright.â
Among the next five visitors, four were similar to the phony. They were fools coveting Encridâs reputation.
âIf I beat you, will I be made Company Commander right away?â
âDid you fight with that body? It seems like youâve trained adequately, but it looks insufficient.â
âArenât you drawing your sword? Will you not blame me if you die?â
Encrid seasoned the table Krais had set up to his liking.
When they came at him with inadequate skills, he broke their limbs one by one.
Among them, there were some who had made a decent name for themselves as mercenaries.
Some claimed to be wandering swordsmen for their own training.
There was even one who bragged about being a former Squire.
But the majority were mercenaries. Many coveted the nickname âThe Soldier Who Ended the Warâ.
After that, seven more guests came, but it was hard to find anything to learn from them.
Many were literally worse than soldiers.
Among them, there was one decent opponent.
âA beastman, Barakal.â
He was a beastman with poor command of the human language but exceptional physical abilities.
For Encrid, it was a rare worthy opponent.
The beastman used a claw-like weapon that extended from the back of his hand, skilled in unconventional attacks.
He would lift his knee to distract and then swing his claw down from above, or he would lower his stance and rush in almost touching the ground.
These were possible thanks to his innate physical abilities.
Encrid observed, experienced, and learned.
It was not a bad time.
Even if he didnât repeat âtodayâ, it was a time to absorb, forge, and train based on what he had accumulated.
Since there was no threat and no wall to face, Encrid lived each day as if repeating âtodayâ.
Rem was pushing Dunbachel hard. No, it wasnât just pushing.
âIf you donât do it properly, youâre dead. Beastwoman.â
At first, it seemed like a joke, but now it carried a murderous intent.
Why wouldnât it?
Wasnât there something to be felt by watching the commander?
The mad beastwoman couldnât even properly control her own strength.
So, what was to be done?
If you push someone to the edge of a cliff, they will use their strength not to fall.
Rem did just that.
And he felt something.
âThere is talent.â
âInnate physical abilities are different. There was a spark in how she used her body.â
So, she was a bit different from Encrid. No, very different.
Though her mind was foolish, her body was exceptional, making teaching her enjoyable.
However, this beastwoman would never become like the commander.
âIâm done.â
After being pushed a few times, she passed out like that. Endurance? Willpower? If she had those, the gap with Encrid would be enormous.
Rem, after half-killing Dunbachel, thought of Encrid.
Now, he believed Encridâs skills had significantly improved.
To the point where it was uncomfortable to go easy on him as before.
To the point where any slight carelessness required him to take it seriously.
Judging his growth, a word came to mind.
âKnight.â
The path Encrid wanted to walk was also open to Rem himself.
Of course, it wasnât the Knightly order talked about on this continent.
Remâs tribe had their own ways.
Recently, he had been thinking unusually much. That was why. It was the reason he was pushing Dunbachel more fiercely.
He was pushing his opponent, and through that, he was pushing himself. That was an act that helped Rem.
âAre you crazy? Lying down? Sleeping? Are you sleeping right now? Falling asleep during training?â
At his haranguing, Dunbachel reluctantly got up. She was ready to agree completely if someone told her this demon had come from the Demon Realm.
The soldier who ended the war.
âThis bastard is that bastard.â
The Sacred Cult of the Demon Realm, which was plotting various schemes in the north of Pen-Hanil.
One of their key executives muttered inside a small pub.
He occupied a worn wooden table, and as it was early, there were few people inside the pub.
On the table lay a drawing of Encridâs face.
âThe one who repeatedly disrupted our work.â
The one who destroyed the Knoll Colony in the pioneer village and eventually even killed the priest.
The one who killed the manticore and the handler, sent for assassination.
âA stumbling block.â
The cult executive decided. They said that the stumbling block was now spreading strange rumors, asking to be found.
âGo and kill him.â
Ordered the cultist. There were those on this side capable of destroying a Knoll Colony. There was an abundance of such force.
Of course, there was also force surpassing his.
At the executiveâs command, the woman sitting across the table rose.
Her shoulders were twice as broad as other menâs, and her thighs were as thick as tree trunks.
Her eyes were narrow, making her eyeballs barely visible, and her lips were even narrower.
She was a warrior raised by the cult, one who lacked talent in spells and had reached her current position purely through physical ability.
âYes.â
The female warrior stood up. Her height made her look like a Giant. Indeed, the blood of Giants flowed in her veins.
The Sacred Cult of the Demon Realm had infused her with that blood as an experiment.
If you excluded will, her physical abilities and combat power were undoubtedly.
âJunior-Knight level.â
Thus, there would be no shortage in killing the one named Encrid. There was no need to send an assassin. Since he was spreading rumors to gather someone to kill him, they would oblige.
They would let him fight and die as he wished.
The Black Blade Bandits understood the importance of reputation more than anything else.
âIt doesnât seem right to just let it end with us getting beaten and retreating, does it? Even if we withdraw, we shouldnât just pull out.â
The scheme Marcus pulled off was already received by the main branch of the Black Blade.
And one of the Black Blade bandits from the main branch devised a plan similar to the cultistâs.
âWhat if we kill the guy Marcus set up?â
Several nobles with connections to the center are involved. They are under contractual relationships with him. This event will narrow the footing of that guy, Marcus.
Itâs the fulfillment of the contract.
If necessary, theyâre even willing to kill Marcus.
But first, theyâll slit the throat of the one who stepped up.
Just as they decided this, a hidden man in the Border Guard began acting strangely.
The rumor of âthe soldier who ended the warâ had reached here as well.
âIs he saying come if you want to fight?â
The Black Blade Bandits had several who were skilled in combat.
The main branch decided to send one of them.
He was a man with brown hair and a plain appearance.
His nickname was Swift Blade.
He got that nickname because of his incredible skill with a single sword.
âGo and take care of it, will you?â
He was a lunatic who found ecstasy in murder, sticking a knife in his opponentâs throat with a smile.
âSure.â
The leader of the Black Blade Bandits sent Swift Blade.
Swift Blade was said to be a tragic genius, expelled for committing too many murders.
If he hadnât joined the Black Blade Bandits, he would have been dead long ago.
âWeâve spent quite a bit of gold keeping that guy around.â
They had appeased nobles who wanted him dead and spent a lot of Krona to keep him hidden and give him what he wanted.
The reason to sharpen a blade is to use it.
This was the time to use it.
It wasnât just the cultists and the Black Blade who sent people.
Several from under Count Molsen also moved.
âYouâre doing something interesting. Is there no warrior to go and prove the Countâs blade is greater?â
At the Countâs words, two of his children and one warrior stepped forward. One of them had previously faced Encrid.
âI will go.â
He didnât stop his son from stepping up.
Whether itâs a good impression or a bad one, it was necessary to make their presence known.
This wasnât the end. Even places unrelated to Count Molsen, the Black Blade, or the cultists heard of Encridâs news.
âHas that friend improved so much?â
It was the rapier swordsman who couldnât reveal his name during the previous escort mission for the Rockfreed merchant group.
He habitually brushed where his mustache used to be with his hand.
Now it was clean-shaven, leaving his hand feeling empty.
âThatâs what they say.â
He had just finished various tasks. So he had some leisure time.
âShall I drop by?â
He thought Encrid wouldnât improve further, but if he suddenly had, maybe he sold his soul to a devil.
Not that he could ignore it.
He was purely curious as well.
How much had he changed?
Wasnât it on the way?
âWe might have to make a detour.â said his subordinate.
The rapier swordsman, after staring at the map for a while, responded.
âIt seems on the way?â
Not at all. The subordinate thought for a moment before answering.
âYes, it is.â
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Considering his momentum and status, they couldnât disagree.
It was a way to clear his head and not be so rigid.
The man thought and started walking.
He was very curious about how much Encrid had changed.
After beating Ibarin down, quite a few mercenaries came to challenge. Initially, Encrid accepted them all.
âIt seems pointless. Iâll only accept challenges from those who can at least defeat Bell.â
Krais, who had been watching, neatly summarized.
And they did as he said.
âNext!â
During the training, not only Bell but also several other soldiers stepped up.
Among them, some soldiers lost, in which case Platoon leaders would step up.
If it seemed like the Platoon leaders would lose, even the Company Commanders would step up.
âThatâs not enough!â
The 2nd Company Commander, with a scar on his cheek, shouted.
âWooah!â
âAs expected!â
âPalto! Palto!â
Unexpected cheers echoed, now becoming a routine occurrence.
The innkeeper, Allen, who was initially bewildered, had also gotten used to it.
âMore beer!â
He was busy selling drinks to the spectators.
It seemed like uneventful days would continue.
Amidst all this, a warrior emerged who defeated even the 2nd Company Commander, Palto.
âAn unfamiliar name but exceptional skills. And itâs a woman.â
That female warrior stood before Encrid.
Behind the inn in the training ground, even merchants around the market were coming to watch frequently.
âA Giant?â
Encrid asked, looking at his opponent. It was surprising to see someone bigger than Audin, and more so because it was a woman.
âMixed.â
The opponent replied. Though her voice was husky, it was clear she was a woman.
Encrid raised his sword, pointing the tip upward, with his weight centered in the middle of his feet.
His instincts told him that this opponent was by no means an easy one.
The woman also drew her weapon.
It was a sword and shield. The shield was solid metal.
Just from the weapons she carried, it was clear.
She possessed immense, extraordinary strength.
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