Encrid found it increasingly fun, fascinating, and enjoyable as he delved deeper into understanding and exploring âWillâ.
If wielding a sword a hundred times was required to find enjoyment, even a single touch of âWillâ could bring about noticeable change.
It was different from the sword.
âThis is amazing.â
Outwardly, he was calm, but inside, he was more excited than ever before. He was on the verge of madness. It wasnât just that he liked it to the point of dying, he genuinely found sleep to be a waste of time.
Even when he slept, he researched and indulged.
A man who had enjoyed the arduous path of the sword and training.
Training with âWillâ was the ultimate happiness for him.
If the Rapier Swordsman were to exert his Intimidation again now?
If he were to see the current Encrid?
He would be as surprised as he was before, or perhaps even more. No, he would be shocked beyond belief.
The accepted truth was that even if one comprehended a piece of âWillâ, it would take years to integrate it into their body to the point of familiarity.
The desire for achievement spurred Encrid on. No, it gently pushed him forward. It embraced him and left warm words behind.
Having learned and mastered it that way, it was natural to feel the urge to test it.
More than anything, he was curious.
âHow far will it work?â
How far will my rejection work?
He had heard that among the demons of the Demon Realm, there were Commander-level leaders who could oppress the human body with their killing intent.
One such opponent stood before him.
âIs this luck?â
Did the Goddess really bless him with a kiss on the cheek?
Isnât it something that couldnât be understood with just a kiss?
âKiiiiiii!â
The killing intent touched his body, and he rejected it. There was no difficulty in the process.
Encrid drew his sword.
Ching.
The centaur leader had approached within ten paces.
Monsters that could be considered its subordinates brushed past on either side.
Encrid ignored them. One of them swung a wooden club at his head.
He bent his waist halfway to dodge and stood back up naturally.
It seemed as if he had originally planned to move that way. The club passed over his head.
Whoosh!
The wind pressure pushed his hair down, and the wind brushed against his cheek.
Ragna was nowhere to be seen by then.
He wouldnât be paralyzed by such a level of killing intent, so he must be fighting on his own.
Encrid only focused on the monster leader standing before him.
âWhy? Are you surprised?â
Encrid was enjoying himself so much now that he even asked softly.
Rejection had properly dispelled the opponentâs killing intent.
No, there was no difficulty at all. He was walking the right path and heading in the right direction, filling him with joy.
The centaur leader, being an intelligent monster, hesitated.
What is this human? Wasnât he merely prey? How is he withstanding the killing intent?
He had been chased from the Demon Realm all the way here.
It had been a long journey. Since arriving here, everything he encountered had failed to withstand his aura.
But now?
Bright blue eyes stared directly at the monster.
âLetâs go to heaven.â
Encrid swung his sword, recalling Audin. He stepped forward with his left foot, shifting his center of gravity, and his arm muscles swelled.
The sword fell, starting from the ankle and pivoting around the waist.
From top to bottom, it was a Middle Sword Technique downward slash.
The sword turned into a beam of light like Remâs and struck.
âKiaaa!â
The leader instinctively thrust out his glaive. His reaction was impressive. He flinched and then immediately extended his weapon.
The glaive interfered with the trajectory of the sword.
Bang!
The sound of metal clashing resounded like a spell of sparks exploding.
It was as if lightning had struck.
In that exchange of blows, Encrid realized that the leader possessed not just killing intent.
âStrength.â
Great strength.
He let the shock flow through his knees and took a step back.
In the meantime, the glaive that had been struck flew straight up into the sky.
Encridâs senses came alive. Based on countless experiences, he predicted the opponentâs actions.
His heightened senses glimpsed the future.
The glaive curved obliquely and struck down diagonally.
It was a strike that left no room to evade.
He had to block it.
For a monster, it used its head remarkably well.
The glaiveâs trajectory revealed the opponentâs intent. It resembled the Correct Sword Technique.
Encrid raised his sword.
Focus and action were simultaneous.
He relaxed his wrist and let the impact slide off as if shaking it off.
This was the Fluid Sword Technique.
Taaang! Tirilililing!
The blade of the glaive slid off Encridâs sword, and in that gap, Encrid stepped forward.
His right hand held the sword for defense, but his left hand was free.
Encridâs left hand drew a guard sword and threw it.
It was the Tangum Style. Using the Fluid Sword Technique, he deflected the glaive, twisted his waist, and transferred that power to his left arm.
Then, pivoting on his elbow, he released the broad-bladed dagger with force.
Ping, Thud!
The thick blade buried itself so deeply in the leaderâs side that only the hilt was visible.
He had thrown it using the Heart of Great Strength.
It was surprising that it didnât penetrate fully, which only spoke to the toughness of the enemyâs body.
âKiaaaah!â
Enraged, the leaderâs aura intensified.
Then the killing intent grew even thicker.
âDie, die, you are my prey.â
Thatâs what it felt like the leader was saying. Encrid didnât bother to speak. From his lower abdomen, something surged like heat.
That heat dispelled whatever the enemy emitted.
It was rejection.
âHup!â
He inhaled, then stepped forward again, straightening his knees and aligning his elbow before swinging his sword, using his waist as the pivot.
It was a horizontal slash.
Whoosh!
The monster didnât block and instead stepped back.
As intended.
Encrid moved forward as if dancing. His sword moved with each step that pushed against the ground. Thrust, slash, cut.
The monster dodged when it could, blocked when it couldnât, but the sword kept moving.
He swung his sword above his head and brought it down, then pulled it back to thrust, pretending to retrieve the thrust to slash left, then swung broadly again. êđ¶âŠĂ¶ÎĐáč©
Thud! Thud, Swoosh! Thud!
Some attacks were blocked, some landed.
The glaiveâs path was thoroughly restricted.
The unending assault of the Correct Sword Technique, stored in the nameless cursed sword, relentlessly pressured the opponent.
Being a monster, it likely didnât even realize it was trapped.
The leader couldnât use its strength properly.
Strength comes from movement. Before it could properly exert its power, the sword restricted and blocked its movements.
The centaur leader, a mass of muscle far larger and tougher than a human, retreated, mismatched to its bulk.
With repeated steps backward, defeat became inevitable.
Encrid overwhelmed the opponent.
âKiaaah! Kiaaaah!â
The leader sprayed its killing intent wildly, as if in desperation.
Encrid easily ignored it. Rejection naturally occurred and deflected it.
When he first wielded âWillâ, it felt like a newly grown tail, but now it was more familiar than his own body.
He felt like he had a sturdy, deep well.
A well that never dried up no matter how much was drawn.
From that well, the power that formed the basis of rejection sprang forth.
This was nothing.
As he slashed, stabbed, cut, and drove the enemy back, Encridâs sword eventually slashed the leaderâs right front leg deeply.
The blade split the muscle of the horse-like leg. The blade penetrated about half a finger length, cutting muscle and nerve before pulling out.
Splat.
Black blood gushed from the severed part. It seemed a blood vessel had been severed as the blood spurted out.
The regeneration ability of monsters was terrifying. Especially for something like a colony leader, which could be a cousin to trolls.
âThis ends here.â
Encrid saw the end and the leader was terrified.
Until now, it had led the monster horde with its unique abilities, but the moment it met a predator stronger than itself, it remembered why it had been chased all the way here.
It had been because of a human then too.
âKiaaaaah!â
The leader signaled and turned around.
Even with its front leg slashed, it pushed off the ground with its front legs and pivoted on its hind legs, turning its body.
It was an impressive athletic ability.
Of course, Encrid had no intention of just watching.
Just as he was about to move forward and cut it down, he was interrupted.
Screeeeech!
Two harpies suddenly swooped in, brandishing their claws. If they hit, the gambeson and leather he wore would be shredded and torn.
Was it a sudden attack?
No. Even though he was focused on the enemy, his senses were open.
Encrid wasnât surprised by the ambush.
Instead, he slashed diagonally from the upper left to his lower right, then reversed the diagonal slash.
Slash! Crunch! Thud! Thud!
In two strikes, the two harpies became four pieces of harpy.
They turned into lumps of flesh sprawled on the ground.
By the time he cut through the winged monsters and moved forward, the leader was already running.
âItâll be a hassle if I let it escape.â
It would be. The fact that it had formed a group here was evidence enough.
What if it formed a horde of horse monsters in that forest?
Moreover, a colony leader like it had a high chance of developing even stronger abilities over time.
Encrid kicked off the ground.
He thought of the Squire he had seen for the first time on the battlefield.
The image of that unbelievable charge was still vividly etched in his mind.
âLike the Squire?â
Would it work? Infusing the legs with the âWillâ of rejection?
Of course, it wasnât easy.
After learning rejection, using it had become incredibly easy and fun, but learning something new was still as difficult as ever.
There was no way to force what couldnât be done.
Encrid, recalling the Squire charging across the battlefield at Aspen, activated the Heart of Great Strength.
The explosive strength gathered in his thighs.
He propelled his body with the strength of his legs.
Bang!
The sound of his foot hitting the ground was as loud as a battering ram striking a castle gate.
Kiiyaah!
An underling monster approached and swung a club. Encrid slashed as he charged forward.
Slash!
The neck of the approaching centaur was cut.
He dodged the club by bending his waist and swung his sword through the gap. These were movements he would never have dared attempt before.
His body, kicking off the ground, became a streak as he advanced.
He chased the fleeing centaur leader in the direction it had gone.
And there were those who witnessed this.
At the moment when most of the soldiers were frozen in fear, thinking they were about to become dog meat again.
âCut it down.â
Muttering to himself, someone sliced through the air. It was Ragna.
He moved directly among those who were paralyzed with fear.
The charging centaur couldnât withstand even two strikes of Ragnaâs sword.
Ragna deflected the club and sliced through the head.
He also vertically bisected the body of the charging centaur.
All of it seemed simple, straightforward, and easy.
It didnât even look dynamic.
It was like cutting dry hay with a well-sharpened scythe.
In other words, it looked like simple labor, a standardized task.
âWhat is that?â
Everyone was understandably shocked.
But what was even more astonishing was Encrid.
âWhy are you moving?â
His vision blacked out momentarily from the killing intent, but he soon saw clearly ahead.
Torres saw Encrid fighting right in front of him.
âWhy is he fighting so well?â
No, he had always fought well.
Even without eyes to immediately recognize skill.
Even without eyes to discern talent.
This was vastly different.
Moreover, Encrid effortlessly ignored the leaderâs killing intent while wielding his sword. He struck, thrust, and unleashed sword attacks.
He completely overwhelmed the leader.
âWow.â
The body that had been frozen from the killing intent soon loosened.
Torres still didnât move.
The charging monsters were being sliced and cut down one by one by Ragna.
Jaxon, who appeared suddenly, also hunted them down one by one.
And as the leader fled, Encrid chased after it.
âHey! If you go there!â
Torres started to shout but stopped.
Chasing into there would be a bad move.
Yet, he thought it necessary to chase.
If they let it go, it would cause even more trouble.
âRem! Your Commander is heading into the forest!â
Torres chose a backup plan.
âDamn it!â
Rem responded. It didnât seem like he was answering Torres, but his actions aligned with Torresâs intentions.
Rem swung his axe left and right, instantly slaughtering five or six canine-headed monsters. The axe turned into a flash of light, streaking among the monsters. Then Rem charged forward.
He moved through the monsters as if they were in his own backyard.
Where he passed, only the corpses of monsters and beasts lay strewn.
âIf your bodies are loosened, fight on your own.â
Ragna muttered and then moved.
His sword spun, cutting down everything in its path, and he followed behind Encrid who was heading into the forest.
The two large figures who had been cleaving through the horde also started running.
âLetâs go!â
The religious zealot Audin said, striking a ghoulâs head with his fist.
Before long, it turned into a melee where humans held an overwhelming advantage.
The monsters and beasts were too busy getting beaten down.
âCrazy.â
Torres could only marvel at the scene before him.
A ghoulâs eyeball rolled to Torresâs feet.
He stomped on it.
With a crunch, the eyeball burst and flattened against the ground.
There was still a battle raging, there was no time for admiration.
âKill them all!â
Torres shouted as he crushed the eyeball. It was time to kill the remaining monsters and beasts.
Too fast?
Encrid was running with all his might, but it was difficult to chase a monster naturally specialized for running.
He was barely keeping up.
The forest was not an ideal environment for running.
That was the only reason he hadnât lost it yet.
What if they hit a flat area?
âI might lose it.â
A cold assessment. Should he try throwing a dagger or something?
The monster, still running despite its front leg being slashed and a sword lodged in its abdomen, wouldnât stop just because a few knives were stuck in its back.
Instead of stopping, it would probably run even harder.
Even knowing he might lose it, Encrid did not give up.
Just because the outcome seemed obvious didnât mean Encrid would quit halfway.
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