"Someone like you handling Will is kind of fascinating."
Rem muttered as he flicked his axe.
The purpose of the sparring had been clear, and there was no need for more.
It was over without deciding a winner, simply weapons clashing non-stop until the end.
The others, including Rem, who had been vying for the order of the spar, shared similar thoughts.
'No exhaustion?'
Jaxen thought silently to himself.
"It should be harder than this," Ragna's words carried the same sentiment.
When someone awakens to Will and starts circulating it through their body, the first sensation they feel is omnipotence.
The feeling that anything is possible.
Some even imagine they could shape clouds into a sword, as if they could pull them in and mold them.
Of course, it's nonsense, something that couldn't possibly happen, but for a moment, it feels real.
It's that sensation of limitless potential, and when intoxicated by this omnipotence, the exhilaration can be several times stronger than any drug.
That exhilaration triggers action, and before long, they end up recklessly expending Will, moving without realizing they're tiring.
This sense of overwhelming power can make it hard to distinguish what works from what doesn't.
But Enkrid had already learned that distinction.
"Oh? This works, that doesn't."
He had realized that to cut someone's neck, he had to be within range of his sword.
A distant gesture couldn't sever the tree in the distance.
It was like learning to walk all over again, this process of mastering omnipotence.
But what happens if someone wastes their Will?
Exhaustion sets in.
They burn out, their energy spent until they collapse.
If they continue moving in that state, their body breaks down.
Of course, with time, they'll recover, but if the exhaustion is induced repeatedly, recovery will be shortened, and the body or mind might suffer lasting damage.
'It doesn't seem likely, though,' Rem scratched his cheek, thinking.
Still, isn't this strange?
Ragna and Jaxen had taken up the challenge to help Enkrid control his Will.
It was a rare move for Jaxen to join a spar, but it made sense—this was the moment for Enkrid to learn control.
They hadn't thrown the dice for no reason.
Yet here they were, with Enkrid still going strong.
"I'm still fine," Enkrid said, drenched in sweat but showing no sign of tiring.
He was still the same as when he started.
"Truly amazing," Rem remarked, while Audin just chuckled softly.
He had already expected this outcome from yesterday's experience.
He hadn't watched them closely because he knew the spar wouldn't be as fun if he did.
But seeing Enkrid now, standing tall, it was clear this wasn't normal.
He should have collapsed by now if he was truly exhausted.
"Let's move on," Rem waved his hand, dismissing the thought.
There were no obvious answers to be had.
There were all sorts of strange things in the world, and Rem knew well that anything could happen.
The same went for Ragna and Jaxen.
Rem decided to move on with the spar.
If exhaustion wasn't going to be induced, what was next?
Mastery.
Once someone learns to handle Will comfortably, they begin to refine their usage.
They might use it more sharply or, conversely, more heavily.
For Rem, who also used a kind of Will through his sorcery, it wasn't unfamiliar, although he used it differently.
However, even that felt a little ambiguous.
How to describe it?
For all his skills with a sword and his improved sense and boldness, Enkrid was still somewhat clumsy when it came to using Will.
In fact, his use of it was more awkward than before.
It wasn't that he had regressed; it was just that his technique felt heavy.
While that didn't mean he had gotten weaker, it made it hard to see any defining characteristic.
His strength had increased, and his reactions were faster.
Still, his usage of Will seemed rougher and messier.
His lack of exhaustion was likely the most noticeable trait.
That clumsiness was something Rem understood, but it was something that would be harder to explain to others like Ropord or Fel.
There was a significant gap between Enkrid and them.
What should he do if his technique was clumsy, rough, or disorganized?
'Does it matter?'
It didn't matter.
No one could predict how things would turn out.
No one knew what would happen in the future, and yet no one thought this was a problem.
In the past, many had wondered how someone like Enkrid would fare as a knight.
What would happen if the strength of his Will grew alongside his oath?
If the intensity of his oath reached a height that touched the sky, what would that mean for his Will, that formless power?
Could anyone even comprehend that?
The answer was clear: no one could fathom it.
Enkrid stood before an unknown path.
He had taken a step into unfamiliar territory.
Was it the right direction?
He didn't know.
Was this the uncertainty of not knowing where to go?
No, it wasn't.
Enkrid smiled, realizing his path wasn't a barren field without signposts but a wide road where signposts weren't needed.
So, he just kept walking.
"Your smile's nice," Rem remarked, laughing along with him.
Jaxen showed a faint smile, and Ragna, too, grinned.
'It seems like I need to get a little more skilled.'
Enkrid seemed to know exactly what to do after the spar.
It was something he would have never imagined before.
Before, he would have swung his sword blindly, running and charging up a mountain with his bare hands to increase his strength.
None of it was useless, but he hadn't known what he was doing.
Now, though, he knew.
It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his past, but he recognized that he no longer needed to seek a mentor as he once had.
'Mastering the use of Will.'
It was like developing a new sense, and learning to manage it was a challenge.
Normally, that wouldn't be so hard, but for Enkrid, it was difficult because his Will was so immense.
His capacity was different from others, and it wouldn't come all at once.
He already understood that, but it didn't bother him.
"Phew."
He felt the sweat on his skin as the wind blew away the heat, and then—
"Can I ask you something? Fiance?"
Sinar suddenly approached and asked.
Enkrid's gaze met hers, recalling how her arm had turned to dust in an instant.
It wasn't just her.
He remembered the wrinkled faces of Rem, the twisted expressions of Jaxen, and Ragna, who looked at him in disbelief.
He remembered Audin's face, glowing with light even as he bled from every orifice.
All those memories, faces, expressions, and actions were his to hold.
"I'll admit it took longer than expected, but I'm happy," Enkrid said as he looked at Rem, Jaxen, Ragna, and Audin.
Ropord and Fel had already left their spots.
Esther stood quietly in the back, and Weird-Eyes was there too.
Enkrid's gaze swept over both of them, acknowledging them as well.
Everyone's eyes were on him.
It was an absurd joke.
He said it because he knew that it was thanks to these people that he was able to stand here.
He knew they understood that.
Shinar rarely showed a faint smile.
Enkrid's smile, full of joy and excitement, was incredibly pleasant to see.
"Damn it."
Rem chuckled lightly, and Audin muttered a prayer.
Jaxen sighed and let out a half-hearted laugh, while Ragna raised his sword.
It was his turn for the next duel.
Enkrid got back into position.
There was no exhaustion.
He didn't get tired.
He wasn't intoxicated by his omnipotence.
His fighting style was clumsy, but that was something that would improve with time.
Ragna simply wanted to fight.
Watching wasn't enough to satisfy him.
Jaxen took a step back, lost in thought.
'He's tough to handle.'
If he could find an opening, he could land a blow.
Poison might give him an edge.
However, both techniques felt awkward to use in a duel.
If his opponent were a barbarian, he could just unleash them recklessly.
Jaxen had many techniques that were tricky to use in a duel.
That's why he stepped back.
He saw that Enkrid wasn't exhausted, so there was no need to wear him out with a duel.
He thought it would be better to handle it himself rather than leave it to a barbarian or a fool.
Lost in these thoughts, Jaxen grabbed two daggers and stood in line.
His thoughts and actions were at odds.
"Next is me."
And that was what he said.
Watching the leader, this cold-hearted assassin, he felt a strange heat rise in his chest.
Enkrid was still smiling, or rather, he was wearing a smile full of anticipation.
No one knew.
Watching Rem and Ragna fight, Enkrid had often dreamed of standing in their place.
Now, that dream had come true right here.
He raised his Aker and got into position.
Hey, that guy can fight.
It was the influence of Will that rippled across his entire body.
The sword carried Will and conveyed its meaning.
The hum of the blade vibrated and turned into language that entered his mind.
Enkrid ignored it and focused.
Soon, the sword descended silently like a bolt of lightning from above.
Even though his sixth sense, his future vision, allowed him to see a fraction of a second ahead, the sight and the blade's arrival were simultaneous.
Enkrid's Aker also erupted in white light and soared upwards.
Clang!
The two swords met, tangled, and scattered.
After several exchanges of blows and footwork, everything was at the level of knights.
The duel was won by Ragna.
After Ragna, Jaxen stepped in, and the result was a draw.
Jaxen withdrew first, acknowledging that it was difficult to catch Enkrid's footwork.
If Ragna or Jaxen had fought until the end, the outcome might have been uncertain.
Next, Rem picked up his axe and charged.
The duels continued until the sun set, but Enkrid's Will never once ran dry.
"You've become a monster."
Rem's words were spot on.
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Among them, the gurgling Luagarne was practically oozing oil from her entire body.
She was simply too moved by the sight.
"I trust you."
The owner of the throne, draped in red carpet finished with gold threads, spoke from atop three steps.
The man standing before him lifted his head, which he had bowed deeply, and spoke.
"I will retrieve the lands of Aspen that were unjustly lost."
The man who raised his head had a nose as dark as coal, his ears were similar to a wolf's, and his pupils were distinctly different from those of a human.
He was a wolf beastman, naturally.
"Then."
The wolf beastman general turned his body.
Once honored as the guardian of Aspen, he had now been relegated to a lowly position.
As he left the hall, two humans and a Frog were waiting for him.
"What about Abnaier?"
As soon as he stepped out, the wolf beastman asked.
Something seemed to bother him, as he snorted and sniffed the air.
He had left the hall, yet even though the throne was only one door away, he acted without restraint.
Those who knew his nature remained silent. Even the attendants acted as if they didn't notice.
"It's better not to mention that name within the royal palace."
The answer came from a neatly-dressed man.
Although he held a knight's rank, he knew better than to speak rudely to the beastman in front of him.
His tone was thus respectful.
Not all knights were the same, and this knight knew the lesson well.
The knight of Aspen, particularly the one who had once took a swing at Enkrid and Ragna, understood that lesson even better.
"If you're just going to throw away honor and everything else, why not just kill him and be done with it?"
The beastman growled.
Was that really what he wanted?
Half of it was right, and half was wrong.
If that action had been taken, he should have been proud of it, but instead, he had left it as a stain on his soul.
He was criticizing it for that.
"Because of the oath..."
"You'll die because of your excuses and justifications. Haven't I taught you that a knight who doesn't protect his honor is marked with shame, and that shame leads to ruin? Have I lived too long to forget this? Huh?"
The wolf beastman cut him off and launched into a lengthy lecture.
The man felt a brief flare of anger, but he didn't dare to retort.
If he spoke more, all he would receive was nagging.
And excuses?
It wasn't an excuse; it was the truth.
The oath had made it unavoidable.
Honor or not, his sword was still strong.
Its features were clear, and it wasn't weakened by the oath.
Even though the man remained silent, the wolf beastman read his thoughts.
"Tch."
Not pleased, the beastman clicked his tongue and turned his gaze elsewhere.
"Don't overdo it. If you fight while intoxicated by omnipotence, you'll die. There are many strong fighters in the world."
"Yes."
The answer came, though it wasn't a genuine acceptance.
That was the type of person he was.
Even now, he exuded overconfidence.
With such conviction, his Will subtly spread through the air.
To think that he couldn't control his own Will, tsk.
The last person was the Frog.
It was the same Frog that had kicked Enkrid in the side before.
"Are you ready?"
The wolf beastman nodded and asked, and the Frog returned a nod.
"Almost done."
Though the Frog might be at a disadvantage against a knight, in a war, the knight wouldn't matter.
Battles and wars were entirely different things.
The wolf beastman understood that difference well.
So, he wouldn't discuss strategies and tactics.
What he needed was Abnaier.
Abnaier had once been called a genius strategist.
He had been blamed as the reason for their defeat.
Was he to be killed for that?
Those who disliked Abnaier's noble status said so, but the wolf beastman only requested his death on the surface, while secretly recruiting him into his ranks.
Abnaier, after failing to kill a human, had secluded himself, but with a few strikes, the wolf beastman had forced him to come out again.
Hmph.
The wolf beastman snorted again.
His breath was so strong that the curtain by the window fluttered.
"Let's go."
The beastman led the way, followed by the two humans and the Frog.
Their steps were so large that the passage seemed narrower than it actually was.
When they exited, two more subordinates were waiting for them.
Under the clear sunlight, the two lowered their heads in respect.
One of the two subordinates, though conditionally, could be considered a knight.
The wolf beastman had personally raised him.
So, aside from the Frog, four knights stood in the party.
If you want to read more chapters earlier, head over to my ko-fi at the link below:)

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