Chapter 551: Why the Ferryman

Splash.

The black river, the ferry, the purple lantern, and the ferryman sitting atop it.

It had been a long time. Just waking up in this dream-like, surreal world was strange.

Naturally, Enkrid’s gaze fell on the ferryman.

Unlike before, the figure was no longer a vague shape. The ferryman’s image was now relatively clear.

The skin inside the robe resembled the cracked earth from a drought, with deep fissures, and his eyes, cloudy with a thick white film, were fixed on Enkrid.

“Did you expect me to be gone after not seeing me for a while? That won’t happen. Mortal men are destined to dream of immortality.”

Enkrid faced the ferryman and leaned back against the boat’s railing.

There was no chair today.

“Don’t you feel any greed, even though you could take the throne by killing one man?”

Perhaps it was because it had been so long since their last meeting.

Or maybe the ferryman had decided to change his approach.

Instead of saying something like "stay with today," which would have been typical, he provoked Enkrid’s innate desire for power.

“If you killed him, you could become king. Will’s injury? That can be healed. And besides, your Will can withstand a little damage.”

Enkrid instinctively knew the ferryman was wrong. Will didn’t operate like that.

If Enkrid truly acted that way, the ever-enduring Will might vanish.

Of course, it might not happen. No one really knew what the future would hold.

If Will were so fragile that a single mistake could erase him, then when the Azpen knight Corwin fled, he should have lost Will, but that wasn’t the case.

Though the ferryman’s words made Enkrid think, he didn’t argue or ask any questions.

“A perfect day will come.”

That was likely the ferryman’s main point. His indifferent voice continued, resonating in Enkrid’s ears.

No, since this was the world of images, it might be more accurate to say it was transmitted directly to his mind.

Anyway, it felt different from when the ferryman previously spoke of curses.

This wasn’t something being said because there was some immediate urgency. It was more like stating that the sun would rise tomorrow, something inevitable.

Enkrid lifted his head, which had been slightly lowered, at those words.

He had a feeling something similar had happened before, but he didn’t care and spoke up.

“It’s not a wave-cutting sword, it’s a wave-blocking sword. That’s the right way to say it.”

The ferryman didn’t fall for it this time either. He already knew Enkrid was thinking about something else.

“A sword that blocks waves, rather than one that cuts through them?”

The ferryman smoothly caught onto Enkrid’s words and even went a step further, adding his own thoughts on swordsmanship.

“That’s right.”

“If it’s just to block, it’s better to carry a shield.”

That was true. The ferryman’s words were right. This was a problem Enkrid had been pondering until just before he fell asleep last night.

He had tried to establish the form and flow of the sword technique, and instead of the sword cutting through waves like a storm, it became one that blocked them. In that case, wasn’t it better to use a shield?

No, that wouldn’t be the case. Didn’t Enkrid already possess one of his own techniques?

The technique he called the Serpent Sword. Not just letting the blade slide, but striking it back.

So, what if the technique became a form of rebound instead of using a shield?

“If you sharpen it like a mirror that reflects sunlight, it will be useful.”

A mirror doesn’t block light, it reflects it.

Instead of just enduring the oncoming waves, you move forward, blocking and striking them.

An abstract idea started to take shape in his mind.

If he tried it while moving, something might come of it.

“Are you not getting tired of it?”

The ferryman asked. Enkrid just stared at him, puzzled.

Tired? Of what?

“No. Enough. Go.”

The ferryman’s tone had changed subtly, but that was all.

He added one more line, but it wasn’t much.

***

Waking up from the dream or image world, Enkrid stepped out of bed.

As he made a sound, he heard the attendant at the door, despite it being early morning, cough and say something.

‘I feel light.’

He was in good condition. In fact, recently, he had felt fine, but today he felt especially good.

Was it because of the dream’s influence? Or maybe it was the result of his thoughts from last night? Or perhaps the ferryman’s consideration?

Before waking up, the ferryman had said that whatever today brought, he would have to stay with it, and that destiny couldn’t be avoided, but Enkrid had simply ignored it and forgotten about it.

If he paid attention to every word like that, he would never get anything done.

“I’ll bring water for you to wash.”

The attendant said.

Enkrid lightly moved his neck and wrists and shook his head.

“Later.”

He said that and immediately went outside. The palace had a training ground as well. It used to be a place reserved for the knights and royal blood only, didn’t it?

Crang had called it a ridiculous mess and had completely renovated it.

Now, it was a place for anyone who wanted to sweat.

Clear blue, distinct darkness—if those existed, that’s how he would describe the current moment.

It was early morning, with a cool breeze that signaled the arrival of fall, entering his nostrils and filling his lungs, announcing that it was a crisp, refreshing morning before retreating back outside.

Boom!

Before even seeing the training ground, his ears detected the presence of someone inside.

The former royal training ground was a small, circular stone wall.

There was a little bit of grass on either side, and the ground had been filled with soft earth after the stones were cleared away.

“Not sure if there’s nothing to do, or if Krona was left behind, but is it really right to have built a training ground that no one even uses?”

Enkrid remembered one of Crang’s pointless stories from when they had traveled between Azpen.

Someone inside the training area was heating up today with the cool fall and blue dawn.

Without touching the stone wall, Enkrid kicked the ground and vaulted over the wall.

The person swinging a heavy wooden training sword turned to look.

“Rearvart.”

Enkrid greeted him first. They had a past connection.

Rearvart, sweating lightly, looked at him. Enkrid asked as a habit.

“Want to spar?”

A smile appeared on Rearvart’s face.

“Sure.”

It was always a pleasure to see someone who didn’t stop moving. Seeing Rearvart again gave Enkrid a thought.

‘Could the ferryman have meant this?’

Had the ferryman’s words last night been advice or assistance? Why? Was it because he enjoyed watching Enkrid?

The ferryman?

Enkrid doubted it. In the end, he had also spoken something like a curse.

That wasn’t something to worry about now.

Enkrid grabbed one of the wooden swords stacked on the side.

Rearvart was using a stone-made cudgel for training, so he put it down and switched to the wooden sword, swinging it a few times in the air.

“Up early?”

“I didn’t sleep. I came right after my shift.”

I see.

But it didn’t really matter.

Enkrid gripped his sword and faced his opponent. He adjusted his strength and speed to match Rearvart, focusing on parrying and striking with precision.

Rearvart’s sword came down straight. He must have had at least one technique he was confident in.

It was that.

A sword that drove straight down, eliminating all preparatory motions and minimizing unnecessary movement.

Of course, it posed no real threat to Enkrid.

Clack!

The moment the wooden swords clashed, Rearvart frowned.

'Hm?'

He had swung with force, but it wasn’t like he had only picked up a sword yesterday.

Yet what was this?

An unexpected shock numbed his wrist. It felt as if he had struck a solid rock with his sword.

'Or maybe a chunk of metal.'

It even felt harder than that.

He had done steel-cutting training a few times, so he had a rough idea of the force needed.

Once more, the wooden swords clashed—clack—and this time they didn’t collide fully but brushed against each other as they passed.

Rearvart moved with a quick sidestep to strike and retreat.

However.

Bzzzzz.

His wrist throbbed and trembled.

Even though it had only brushed.

"It’s working."

The blue-eyed knight spoke from right in front of him, well within sword's reach. If this were an actual battle, Rearvart would have already been a dead man.

The owner of those blue eyes, Enkrid, spun his wooden sword around a few times in the air and continued.

"But the weapon can’t hold up well."

The middle of the wooden sword was visibly twisted and cracked. At this rate, it would break even without using any grand techniques.

"What is this?"

Rearvart asked, encountering the knight’s technique for the first time. It was natural to be curious.

Honestly, even Rem would have found it impressive.

"Wave-Blocking Sword."

It was called the sword that blocks waves, but in truth, it was a swordsmanship technique that accepted and returned the opponent’s force, harnessing rebound energy.

It was a level above the Serpent Sword.

The Serpent Sword didn’t involve Will, but this one used the ever-flowing Will as a weapon.

However, even if Ragna saw it and tried to imitate it, he probably wouldn’t use it.

It was too inefficient.

The technique squandered Will as if spending it recklessly, wrapping the body in it to fend off attacks.

The structure of the technique was extremely simple. What happens when you strike a rock with a sword?

If the blade doesn’t chip, your wrist would break first.

You firm your whole body and strike with force. If your opponent overwhelms you with speed? Then it’s a technique you can’t even use.

That didn’t mean it was the wrong path.

For Enkrid, it was a technique that suited him extremely well.

Moreover, it wasn’t the end—there was potential for further development.

After spinning his wooden sword through the air a few more times, Enkrid threw it aside and began practicing the Isolation Technique.

"Train yourself."

Rearvart had weak wrist training, so he was easily overwhelmed, but what about Rem or Ragna?

Even Audin wouldn’t be easily caught off guard.

But aside from that, it was simply a lot of fun.

For Enkrid, it was the first time he had experienced a technique materializing immediately after a single night of thought.

It was as if his body moved exactly as he willed.

Moments like these made him feel overjoyed to the point of near madness.

Training itself had never been this enjoyable.

Of course, Enkrid always found joy in swinging his sword daily.

That didn’t mean he had never faced suffering. There were always moments of doubt, even if he didn’t feel despair or defeat.

But now, there was no room for doubt, and the smile never left his face.

Right beside him, Rearvart’s pupils trembled violently.

'Do I have to go insane?'

The thought came to him naturally. In front of him was a man who, after a few sword swings that wrecked his wrist, now lifted and squatted with a stone from the edge of the training yard.

And he smiled all the while. His face was lit up with a wide grin as if nothing made him happier.

The Enkrid Rearvart had known in the past wasn’t normal either, but seeing this version now, laughing so freely, he just looked completely insane.

Yet watching him made Rearvart’s own motivation stir.

If it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t have been here training right after finishing his shift.

He wasn’t some extraordinary person.

He wasn’t lazy and trained every day, kept up with his personal practice. He just hadn’t gone mad like the man before him.

He lived normally, had a drink after work occasionally, rested when he could.

Rearvart felt the difference.

It wasn’t about talent or opportunity.

It was simply the difference between those who did, and those who didn’t.

The man before him spent every single day, every moment, like this.

Smack!

Rearvart slapped both his cheeks with his own hands.

"Just add resolve!"

He shouted rather loudly, and Enkrid turned to look at him.

"I’ll do it. I’ll train."

Rearvart replied.

If Rem had seen this, he would have said another one had been broken.

And so, Enkrid spent the time from dawn to morning with Rearvart, and later, he demonstrated the Wave-Blocking Sword to Rem as well.

"Not bad."

Unusually, Rem started with a compliment.

After experiencing it himself, he realized how troublesome it really was.

Just clashing swords with Enkrid made his wrist ache.

'What’s the principle?'

Rem thought about it for a moment and concluded it was a technique that excessively consumed Will.

It explosively unleashed Will, creating superhuman strength to forcibly bend the opponent’s wrist at a specific angle.

A technique that combined skill, timing, and strength.

But then, wouldn’t a vibrating sword be better?

Rem recalled that Enkrid had defeated the vibrating sword technique used by the Azpen knight by crushing it with another technique.

'No, that’s not it.'

The vibration could be countered with some tricks, but Enkrid’s current technique would evolve and adapt to his opponent.

Thus, Enkrid’s new ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ technique was even more threatening.

So then, should one avoid clashing weapons altogether? Was that even possible?

Maybe by using sorcery to summon a cloud wolf and attack from a distance?

If someone tried that on him, he’d probably curse and just charge straight at the summoner, ignoring the wolf.

Enkrid would probably do the same.

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad technique at all.

"There’s no hesitation in your advance, Brother."

Audin chimed in.

There wasn’t much else to do now. After attending the banquet, they would be done.

Since it was a royal banquet, it would probably be extravagant, but Enkrid didn’t care much for that kind of thing. Kraiss would probably enjoy it.

If Enkrid had been the type to enjoy that, he would have long been one of those knights clinging to noblewomen, serving them day and night.

But he wasn’t, which was why he was here.

Before evening, the attendants came by to bring formal clothes suited for each of them.

Audin hesitated a few times before finally putting his on.

They were all dressed in tailcoats. Enkrid wore a purple velvet vest, Audin wore a light blue jacket reaching just to the waist, and Rem wore a gray vest.

Tailcoats all looked pretty much the same.

But once dressed up, both of them looked quite good.

Even though the attendants spent hours fixing their hair and outfits, neither of them lost their temper once, which Enkrid found rather surprising.

Just before evening, they approached the palace banquet hall.

"Do I really have to announce it like this?"

The attendant ahead of them bit his lip and asked his superior, then shouted with determination.

"Mad Knight Order has arrived!"

The bustling banquet hall instantly fell silent.

Tens, hundreds of eyes turned toward the three of them.