It was a bountiful year.
As soon as they returned to their quarters, Jaxen handed over some ointment.
The ointment, which was in a small wooden container, was applied evenly all over Enkrid's body by Finn, and the bandages were wrapped by Krais.
"I thought I was going straight to the grave," Krais said, skillfully wrapping the bandages.
"I was taking it easy while doing it," Enkrid responded.
Krais let out a bewildered chuckle at Enkrid's words.
"Did you not see that woman's forearm? It was thicker than our brother's," Krais said, glancing at Audin.
In other words, if he saw that and still said he was 'taking it easy,' what was he talking about?
"Arm thickness doesn't prove skill," Enkrid said, without changing his expression. He didn't seem bothered by the pain of his injuries.
"Let's not talk about it."
Krais made a gesture with his eyes and removed his hands. The dangerous wounds had mostly been tended to.
"Well, um... don't be too down if the result isn't good," Finn chimed in. She still didn't know Enkrid very well.
Anyone with ambition would have a fearsome desire to win. Normally, that would be the case.
Enkrid wasn't without a desire to win either. The company commander Finn had seen before didn't like losing. That wasn't an incorrect observation.
However, this time the situation was a bit different.
Losing wasn't the problem.
Enkrid had learned a lot from his encounter with the mixed-blood giantess warrior.
What mattered more than losing.
What mattered more than dying.
The sense of fulfillment that quenched his boiling thirst.
The satisfaction of walking toward tomorrow.
"Tomorrow again."
Moreover, it wasn't over yet. He wasn't dead.
They had just parted ways, promising to meet again tomorrow, and right now, Enkrid felt joy not in the loss, but in looking back at the path he had walked and the path ahead.
In other words, he was thrilled by the idea of fighting again tomorrow. It was clear from his face.
A smile escaped his lips, and seeing that, Finn, cautiously, stood up from her crouched position, turned around, and mouthed a question.
"Did you hurt your head too?"
There was no answer.
Audin, who had been silently observing, stepped forward.
He approached Enkrid, kneeling on one knee to face him like a bear-like monster.
Was he trying to show some divine power? Enkrid, with one eye wrapped in a bandage, looked at him.
"Do you have a hobby of getting hit, brother?" Audin asked.
There was no such hobby. It was a question with a predetermined answer.
So the real point was this: Was this Audin's way of scolding him? It certainly felt like it.
"No one can dodge every attack. What should we do then?"
Audin didn't seem to want an answer to his question and immediately continued.
"If you get too caught up in how your body moves as you wish, and stop there, it will be difficult to move forward, brother."
Saying this, he tapped his finger lightly on the side of his head.
Enkrid didn't immediately grasp what Audin was saying.
However, he had a sense that there was something to gain from what had been said. He didn't speak, instead pondering Audin's words.
Then, when the religious monster stepped back, the axe-wielding monster spoke.
"You don't need to be pushed by strength either. Don't hold back, try to explode."
Enkrid still didn't immediately understand, but he continued to reflect on the words.
Later on:
"If you know how to get hit, it doesn't hurt as much."
That was Jaxen's statement.
"Is it fun?"
That was Ragna's question.
At least he could answer the last question.
"Very much."
Enkrid replied with calm sincerity, and Ragna chuckled softly.
Enkrid, with bandages on his eye and cheek, smiled too.
Ragna felt that smile stirred something in his heart.
Why wouldn't it?
Watching Enkrid fight had reignited his own desire.
It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time.
He wanted to swing his sword.
Whether or not there was an opponent, he simply wanted to enjoy it. The sword, the moment, everything.
So, he wanted to say the same thing to his own commander.
"Enjoy it."
Enkrid answered that he was already doing so.
Ragna then left his quarters and went to his personal training area.
As he swung his sword, several soldiers nearby began to do similar things.
Some of them approached Ragna and immediately asked for a sparring match.
"I'd like to give it a try, is that okay?"
There were those who would get beaten badly in training but never break.
They hadn't been noticeable before, but now they caught Ragna's eye.
Such people grow. They move forward. They will learn more.
"Sure."
He didn't refuse.
He didn't refuse. He genuinely gave it his all.
Ragna enjoyed today. It made him very happy. It was a rare moment. He felt a sense of fulfillment and pride in how the day had turned out, and he was satisfied.
Enkrid lay there, just breathing.
With his regenerative powers, the body naturally heals most wounds quickly when it's being restored and trained.
What does one need to enhance the body's regeneration?
First, it's a trained body.
Even without moving, a body that is activated will naturally circulate the blood rapidly throughout the body. The blood, circulating, helps heal wounds.
The strengthening of muscles and strength increases recovery, as the heart becomes stronger alongside the muscles.
Enkrid had learned this through his training with the Isolation Technique.
Next, adequate nutrition.
The energy the body needs comes from what you eat.
Didn't Audin keep saying it?
"You need to eat well to build muscle."
"You need to eat well to make resting worthwhile."
Enkrid had followed this advice. He ate well after returning to the quarters.
It was a meal of finely ground meat patties mixed with vegetables.
The dish was made with meat and a mix of potatoes and firm root vegetables.
It was hearty and satisfying, and now, it wasn't a problem to eat like that.
"Order whatever you want and eat it, and if you need anything, just take it."
Those were the words Marcus had said after the battle. Of course, he said it in a more eloquent way, but the meaning was the same.
He ate well, rested well, and there was no pressure.
And there was Esther.
The foolish human, the Lake Panther, spoke with his eyes, and Enkrid's arms were filled with her.
"Long time no see?"
Enkrid scratched Esther's head with his finger as she snuggled into his arms.
And of course, Esther didn't reject it.
They weren't so much lovers, but more like friends or comrades. That's how Enkrid treated her, and Esther, without any particular expression, released her magic.
It wasn't a healing spell, but mana naturally has an effect on the body, so it helped.
She did what she could.
For this reason, it was no surprise that Enkrid's recovery was swift.
However, Dunbakel, who didn't know any of this, widened her eyes when she saw Enkrid's recovery speed.
"Already getting up?"
He's getting up after just one day?
It was surprising, wasn't it?
She knew herself how badly she had been beaten by Rem. It felt like she might have been left with permanent injuries.
Not that she was thinking of running away, but the pain and suffering couldn't be avoided.
Being a beast-woman didn't mean she was immune to pain or particularly good at enduring it.
They were a species that fought based on their natural athletic ability and reflexes.
They couldn't afford to be slow like giants.
Dunbakel had mentioned this repeatedly, but of course, Rem just snorted.
"Alright, let's double the punishment today."
That was all he said.
"Didn't you say it was training? Not violence?"
Rem had always said that with his own mouth, that he didn't want to hit anyone, that it was just part of the necessary training.
But sometimes, it seemed like he forgot that and revealed his true feelings.
"Ah, right. Training, training, double the amount."
Then he shamelessly started to backpedal. Of course, Dunbakel couldn't really complain about it.
Enkrid twisted his body left and right at the waist and answered.
"My ribs still hurt a little. Has your skill improved? Former thief."
Dunbakel didn't like being called a former thief, but she couldn't argue back.
"A little."
"That's exciting."
What was that supposed to mean? Was she excited about struggling to survive?
It was a confusing statement.
Enkrid got up after just one day.
'The ribs are mostly healed.'
It wasn't perfect, but lying down felt uncomfortable.
That warrior woman might have gone back as well.
Enkrid didn't think about where she came from anymore.
He just had the desire to fight again as soon as possible, as long as there was someone who could be his opponent, and she was still around.
So, it wouldn't be surprising if people called him crazy, but Enkrid didn't care.
In fact, he probably didn't even have time to think about it.
There are geniuses in this world.
There are prodigies and talented people.
Some people are born with talent.
Among them, geniuses are those who must reach places that even those with talent can't reach. To reach that place, ordinary efforts won't suffice.
One has to go crazy.
Luckily, Enkrid did all of this without consciously realizing it.
Anyone who knew his inner thoughts and situation would have been shocked.
No one could read Enkrid's mind right now.
They could guess, but they couldn't know everything.
Enkrid slept deeply and woke up, his mind clear as he began to think. More specifically, he thought while walking.
When his thoughts got stuck, walking through the streets was a habit he had since childhood to clear his mind.
As he trudged toward the market, one side of his head tingled, and the answer to the lingering question appeared before him.
It wasn't a sudden, lightning-like realization.
If he had to express it, it was more like the gradual rise of a tide—a realization that crept up like the incoming tide that eventually reached his ankles.
'Was I too arrogant?'
What he had learned from his comrades had awakened something in his body. It was as if new talent had been born. That's how it felt.
Had that become a poison for him?
Did he think that he no longer needed to think deeply, to deliberate, like before?
What Audin spoke of was the original intention. Keep thinking and thinking.
Enkrid walked, contemplating like that.
The female warrior's attacks were swift, forceful, and accurate. They were hard to avoid.
"If you know it's coming, it hurts less."
Jaxen had said that. He had told him to know and take the hit.
'Perceive it through my senses.'
If he tried to track it with his eyes, it would be too late. Did he have confidence in his dynamic vision? Was it because his body had changed? Was it still insufficient, though? If he stopped now, his dream of becoming a knight would be nothing but a mirage shattered.
There was no storm brewing inside him, nor a tsunami crashing in.
He just didn't stop thinking.
'Open all five senses and even the door to intuition wide.'
If that were the case, he would have recognized the first shield push.
There had been so many dummies thrown his way that he had confined himself to the well of experience.
He broke through it. For an ordinary person, it would have been difficult, but Enkrid was used to breaking through his own limits.
Wasn't he someone more accustomed than anyone else to breaking his own boundaries?
'Explode.'
The beast's heart was one of boldness.
The heart of immense strength was for increasing physical power.
Was it the right way to use the heart to maintain boldness?
No.
He had already half-realized it.
'In every moment.'
In sudden bursts, he was supposed to unleash his brute strength.
For now, he couldn't maintain the heart of monstrous power throughout the fight, so this approach seemed correct.
He was going to break things down even more than before.
He didn't think it was impossible. Whether it worked or not, he would try. All of this was naturally part of his thinking process.
'Capture it with intuition.'
Explode the heart in the moment.
While retracing his thoughts and trying to figure out how to fight, he finally reached the market.
"The atmosphere feels oddly tense."
"Everyone seems formidable."
"I heard Bell almost had his leg broken."
Hearing snippets of gossip, something seemed to be going on.
Enkrid, noticing that no one—Rem included—was around, realized they were all gathered here.
"I was wondering where everyone had gone."
He mumbled to himself as he walked, and those who recognized him cleared a path for him.
"You've arrived?"
From soldiers at the start.
"Already? Is your body alright?"
To the shoemaker.
"Have some jerky, won't you?"
And even to a woman running a small shop.
He passed through them and arrived at the central intersection of four inns, marked by the Border Guards.
The way was blocked. Several carriages had stopped.
This was a road used by merchants. Blocking it like this shouldn't have been happening.
He looked ahead to see why it was blocked.
There she was—the woman from yesterday. Thanks to her giant-like endurance, the small wounds she had before were no longer visible.
She stood frozen with her sword vertically planted in the ground and her shield beside her, striking a pose that resembled a statue.
There were other faces around her as well.
"Hm, I'm Zebilkal. Anyone know my nickname? I came here to challenge that former soldier in the hopes of a rematch."
His eyebrows were thin, and his lips curled into a faint, unsettling smile.
It was the kind of face that made one feel uncomfortable. His smile didn't seem genuine.
A sword hung at his waist, likely an arming sword of appropriate length.
His thick belt caught Enkrid's attention, and just by looking at his posture, Enkrid could tell he was no ordinary man.
The man Zebilkal was not the only one here.
"Full of worthless types. I'm Edin Molsen, Count Molsen's son! I've come to challenge the Independent Company Commander, Enkrid!"
A bold man with blonde hair stepped forward. He was familiar. He had been the groom before. To be precise, he was the son of Count Molsen.
Behind him was another younger man with a similar appearance.
Behind them was a man with a long face.
'Not bad.'
The bodyguard, who seemed to be a real expert, stood with them.
Edin Molsen also appeared more impressive now than when he had been by his father's side.
That's what Enkrid judged.
Finally,
"So, does that mean that friend is too injured to join us?"
At first, Enkrid didn't recognize him due to the absence of his mustache, but then he realized the familiar face.
The name that came to his mind was Rockfreed.
'That swordsman from back then?'
The master of the quick sword. The man who had told him to forget about swords.
Wasn't he a guard from the Rockfreed trade guild, standing opposite Leona?
"Everyone, just wait a bit. If you don't like it, you can play with my axe. We had a little fight yesterday, but we'll probably go again today. Our captain says there's something wrong with this place."
It was Rem, speaking from the center of their group, tapping his head with his finger, spinning it around in the air.
'That bastard.'
Enkrid had no reason to hide. As he was recognized by those around him, they cleared a path for him.
"Did they all come to see me?"
Hmm. How should he put it?
The moment Enkrid noticed all eyes were on him, he understood the feeling of a farmer.
It was a good harvest.
They all seemed to be of giant mixed-blood heritage.
And they were all here to see him.

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