The pause was brief, but the awkwardness remained.
In a tense battle, it would have been an opening large enough to get his neck sliced.
As Enkrid moved, the opponent—the owner of the pale white skin and vertically slit pupils—spoke again.
"Stay. You cannot. Move. Foot."
The words were still disjointed, but they carried a restraining force.
'Reject.'
Enkrid ignored the opponent's words by repeating the thought internally.
His Will surged, transforming into a solid fortress wall, a wall built with the resolve to block anything and everything.
He then pushed off the ground with the sole of his foot and led with his sword.
In that fleeting moment, his accelerated mind assessed the situation.
'When the man in front of me opens his mouth, a coercive force acts on my body.'
'It's similar to intimidation, but different.'
'To put it simply, it's like water.'
A rolling stone can hit a fortress wall but cannot pass over it.
But water can seep through and have an effect, seeping through the cracks between the stones and soaking the foundation.
'Is such a thing possible with just a word?'
Such a question didn't even arise.
Enkrid, having entered a state of combat, was completely focused on one thing.
His concentration gathered to a single point, immersing him.
Just before his opponent's mouth opened again, using his left hand, instead of the Dawnforged in his right, swept across his chest.
The horn dagger, made much thinner by Aetri's skill, flew, cutting through the air.
There was no sound.
No, the sound was late.
The physical object, flying faster than it, would pierce the man's head first.
The opponent who had appeared so suddenly moved his body to the side.
It was a fluid, natural movement, but in reality, it was an evasion so fast that an ordinary person's eyes couldn't even properly follow it.
Bwooo!
The sound, following late, echoed.
The throwing knife that Jaxen loathed tore through the air, stealing the moment the opponent's mouth was about to open.
In that gap, Enkrid closed the distance.
He detonated his Will, doubling his speed with a point-explosion.
A single-point thrust aimed directly for his opponent's side.
To be precise, the tip of his blade stabbed at the spot where his opponent's lungs were.
Overcoming the pressure that weighed down on his shoulders as if he were trapped in a swamp, he entered a world without sound.
The domain of silence.
His ears felt clogged, and the pressure felt as if a giant were squeezing his head with both hands.
The opponent's yellow eyes turned to Enkrid's face.
The man had also stepped into the domain of silence at the same time as Enkrid, as if to protest,
what's so hard about that?
BA-BOOM!
The sound of the air being torn apart by the short, explosive leap and charge echoed.
Mixed in were the lingering noise from the horn-bugle and the sound of the sword swing.
The strange-eyed man's blade tried to block and deflect the tip of Enkrid's sword, and in that moment, Enkrid tried to twist his blade to parry and stab back, but failed.
The blade bent like a snake and blocked him again, forcing him to release the power contained in his sword into the air.
Ting, ch-rrrrng.
A noise arose as the blades scraped past each other.
"Did not use. Properly. Been a long time."
Still the awkward speech.
Then the man's mouth opened again.
This time, there was no time to stop him.
It was nothing more than the utterance of a simple word.
"Halt."
Something contained in that single word suppressed and compelled his entire body.
It was as if someone were whispering in his ear not to move while tightly gripping his limbs.
If there was a god, it was as if that being had descended here for a moment and was urging him to do so.
Enkrid felt an intangible pressure suppressing his body's freedom.
And against all the pressure, suppression, and coercion he was receiving, he put forth his unwavering will.
He didn't know if a god of fate actually existed, but his life had been one of struggle. A life of clawing his way up with insufficient talent.
The logic of the world, truth, all that represented the gods had urged and forced him to give up, but he had overcome all those days and built today to reach the present. So, he could do this as many times as needed.
"Reject."
At that answer, the coercive force blurred and disappeared.
The man was surprised, but instead of showing his bewilderment, he spoke again.
"Halt."
Enkrid answered in kind.
"Reject."
Even if the gods of heaven descended to test the will of man, they would be surprised if they saw Enkrid.
Therefore, whatever was imbued in those words, Enkrid could reject it.
His Will surged.
The conviction, will, belief, and principles he had built up over a lifetime became a shield that rejected the magic his opponent wielded.
What is chivalry?
It is a code, a morality.
And if one were to pick the most powerful element within it...
'To keep the words I have spoken.'
Not all who become knights do so, but Enkrid did.
Stubbornly, and at times, foolishly.
He did not seek the understanding of others and walked his own path.
He had lived that way even before becoming a knight.
The moment his opponent spoke, a chunk of his Will was consumed.
It didn't matter.
Enkrid's Will was
Uske
—an undrying spring, a well.
"Halt."
"Reject."
"Halt."
"Reject."
"Halt."
"Reject."
And so it created the image of them having a shouting match.
Rem, who had left his adjutant behind and found Enkrid, stood blankly.
He saw Enkrid's back and the man who had suddenly appeared.
To be precise, seeing the two fighting with their mouths while holding swords, he couldn't help but ask.
"Uh, what are you two doing?"
From the side, it would have looked like a comedy.
Although Rem had appeared, the man blocking Enkrid's path paid him no mind.
He simply asked.
"You can overcome a Word of Command?" This time, he spoke properly.
Perhaps that was the nature of short sentences.
A Word of Command refers to imbuing the word itself with power.
If suppression through Will presses down on an opponent through movement or presence, the structure of a Word of Command is different.
It strikes the opponent's will through vibration.
It isn't simply a matter of asserting one's own will.
Moreover, the Word of Command he had just used had alternated between two forms.
The first was Overwriting Will.
He had overwritten his own will on top of his opponent's.
The second was Overwhelm.
He had crushed and overwhelmed his opponent's will.
That had been the intention, but the human before him had overcome it all.
Was this a common occurrence?
No.
Looking back on his entire life, it was the first time.
"Was a Salamander something like a person? Its eyes are just like a lizard's," Rem said.
Rem's powers of observation were excellent.
Seeing the man's eyes, posture, and attitude, he suspected his identity.
He had already climbed a tree and was in a squatting position.
To an uninformed person, it would look like he was lazing about, but Enkrid knew that Rem was ready to intervene at any moment.
Enough power would have already gathered in the soles of his feet pressing down on the thick branch, and even if not, Rem also possessed the specialty of handling 'projectiles.'
Enkrid moved his left foot to the side, showing him his back as he answered.
"I don't know."
Rem furrowed his brow because of Enkrid's back, which was now perfectly blocking his view.
The current positioning was an assertion of will.
Isn't it a natural instinct for a possessive human to claim what he covets as his own?
Enkrid was doing just that.
The man before him used a strange technique.
But there was something that stimulated him more than that.
'I can't gauge his capabilities.'
That made his heart boil.
And separate from that, he was not simply drunk on the pleasure of battle.
Was the monster known as a Salamander as threatening as Beelrog?
What was the reason for that monster's sudden awakening?
Putting aside such miscellaneous reasons, the task for Enkrid was clear.
He knew his position and his duty.
To cut down whatever blocks his path and protect those behind him.
Right now, behind Enkrid was the Border Guard.
Within it, there was a woman who sold marmalade, and a person who ran an inn and collected books with the krona they had saved up.
The woman who sold marmalade was about to be married.
The family of Vengeance, who had now become the Border Guard security captain, also lived within the city.
His one-sided love had borne fruit.
He smiles holding his child, and smiles looking at his wife.
There were many such people.
And there...
'Vanessa's Library.'
The name of the public library being built in the city of Rockfreed.
"I've wanted to build something like this since I was young."
After hearing Vanessa say that, Enkrid had asked back, "Even if it means pouring in all the krona you've saved?"
Vanessa was the owner of the largest inn at the crossroads, now a landmark of the Border Guard.
Vanessa's pumpkin soup had made her inn famous.
Enkrid, who knew Allen, the owner of the inn across from Vanessa's, was also acquainted with her.
In fact, he had known Vanessa first.
A woman with dark skin, liver spots on the back of her hands, a plump body, and a pleasant smile.
She was a strong mother who had raised four children on her own after losing her husband at a young age.
And seeing as all four had grown up diligent and upright, even though only one of them was her own flesh and blood, one could tell that the resolve she possessed was no less than that of a person with Will.
Wasn't there a saying that raising a child is as difficult as destroying a colony?
He had no experience raising children, but everyone knows that one must respect a person who has faithfully fulfilled their role as a mother.
Vanessa was one of those old connections.
And Enkrid had always found it easy to make friends with people like her, ever since he was a child.
She had brought up Enkrid's past, after he had become a knight.
"My pockets won't be empty just from building one library, soldier."
The pumpkin soup of hers he had eaten on his first day in this city had an unforgettable taste.
"If you didn't join the army to die, then straighten your face."
It was his first day in the city.
He had heard those words.
Had his expression been bad then?
It was a time when he lived a life without hope, though he did not know how to give up.
The swordplay that no longer improved even when he swung his sword until his palms burst and bit his teeth until his gums bled.
It was a time when all of that weighed down on his shoulders.
Even so, he didn't think it would have shown on the outside.
Mother Vanessa had seen right through the young man who was much younger than her.
Even if he had spent a different time from others by repeating his days, there are things that cannot be forgotten.
'After coming to the Border Guard.'
He could not forget the process from insisting on enlisting to being put in charge of the madmen squad.
Conviction and resolve.
Belief and principles.
And amidst them, expectation and enjoyment seeped in.
The thrill of battle was also a part of him.
As long as he didn't get drunk on it, it was fine.
It was because he had a zeal greater than the demon of strife that the fighting instinct of the Beelrog's armor was meaningless.
A blue light lingered on the blade of Dawnforged.
The inscribed weapon reacted to the flow of Will.
The opponent also raised his sword.
The long, stick-like sword had a pure white blade.
He held it at an angle and waited.
It wasn't aimed straight ahead; the tip of the sword pointed to the left of Enkrid's head.
It was a peculiar stance.
Enkrid knows how to give up and do things in moderation.
Even if he hadn't done so himself, he had seen it countless times.
Enkrid knows how to retreat.
He has a head that can calculate what is advantageous without having to deliberate.
And yet, he does not retreat.
It is because his heart is full of a bravado that could be called recklessness.
And that is why now, facing an opponent whose capabilities he cannot gauge, Enkrid smiled as he always did.
And so, with a smile, he charged.
Like a wave that would not stop even if the sky split in two, like a storm that raged without end, he did so.

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