Chapter 743 - Loss
"So, you’ve killed all the Beasts and finally escaped from the day you’d been preparing for."
The rippling River, the violet Lamp, and the appearance of the Ferryman made it clear that this wasn’t a dream.
Enkrid sat at the edge of the boat, gazing into the distance before turning his head.
No matter where he looked, it seemed there was no end to this place.
Or, to put it more precisely, all he could see was ’an end.’
It felt as if he were surrounded on all sides. Even the River running by and the unending line of lights seemed the same. If he were asked why, all he could say was, "just because."
"Congratulations. Though you were born mortal, in the end you will desire immortality, human."
There was a scholarly weight to those words.
Today, the Ferryman spoke with poetry—or perhaps, like a sage seeking truth.
"I never wished for immortality."
"But you will."
"Are you saying that’s certain?"
Even after all that’s happened to me?
That unspoken thought was woven into his question.
The Ferryman’s lips twisted into a crooked smile.
He even smiled quite naturally now.
It was a noticeable change compared to when they first met.
"In the end, the moment you’re imprisoned by regret, you will beg and plead. Yes, you won’t believe it, and you won’t accept it. I know. That’s why I will show you."
The Ferryman’s hand—his one not holding the Lamp—was raised into the air.
Because of that, his robe fluttered upward, and inside, instead of anything visible, it was as if someone had painted it pitch black.
For an instant, Enkrid’s gaze was drawn into the robe, and in that moment, everything around him changed.
He was no longer at the boat’s edge.
Kneeling on one knee on blackened ground, Enkrid was holding someone in his arms.
"Leave me. Go do what you must. Damn it."
His hair, matted with blood, had turned an even duller color than its usual grey.
Rem was dying.
There was nothing more he could do.
"It’s not ignorance to say the future can change. Yes, this must be a far-off future."
The Ferryman’s voice echoed from all directions.
It wasn’t a sly or wicked voice.
If anything, it was flat and matter-of-fact. He was simply presenting a likely prediction that something like this would happen.
And that made it feel even more real.
Rem was dead.
Enkrid had to watch as Rem took his final breath in his hands.
"That is the first ’present’ you’ll gain from now on."
Loss.
It means to lose something.
The Ferryman’s intentions were clear.
Embrace the pain.
Do you really want to go through such difficult days?
He understood the Ferryman’s intent, but he had no intention of playing along.
Besides,
’This hasn’t happened yet.’
There’s no way to know what will be.
If that’s the case, worrying about it now changes nothing.
So, he just needed to brush it off, get up, and do what needed to be done.
Enkrid woke from the dream and opened his eyes.
The moment he opened his eyes, the smell of water hit him.
Since last night, the air had been growing damp, and now it made sense—raindrops had begun to fall, gently and steadily.
"Up we go."
Enkrid got up lightly from a bed whose pleasantly firm texture he rather liked.
The bed was a gift from Shinar.
If he remembered right, it was filled with special leaves.
After getting up, Enkrid took off his shirt, put on only a thin pair of pants, and stepped outside.
"You’re up, brother."
Audin, built like a bear, greeted him with a cheerful smile.
"You’re up early."
"It’s my week for dawn prayers."
A priest devoted to the god of war, keeping prayer week diligently.
Even within the Legion—the so-called holy city—there probably weren’t many as devout as him.
Except maybe the ragged saint who was Audin’s spiritual father.
Apparently, that saint was heading to the Legion this time.
He’d left after receiving some request along the way, and word had it that a letter had arrived from Lord Overdeer.
’If it’s Lord Overdeer, he must be a devout one.’
Other than that, there was only Noah.
Returning to the Border Guard, Enkrid had found a few letters from Noah waiting for him.
Most of it was trivial talk, but the meaning beneath the words was clear as day.
He was saying that if he was needed and could be of help, he’d do anything.
It wasn’t about repaying a debt; it was more like, if Enkrid had helped out because they were friends, then he could do the same.
’He’s so dramatic.’
If he really had been captured by the Empire, things would have gotten pretty complicated.
Just then, Audin, standing beside him, spoke up.
"You haven’t spent your time idly, I see."
He had continued his training even at the House of Yohan.
For Enkrid, that was only natural.
"Of course."
"Right."
The two of them, standing in the early morning rain, lifted and set down heavy stones, then—at Enkrid’s request—took a heavy iron ball Aetri had forged, wedged it between their legs, lay down, and lifted it using only their abs.
If anyone had seen their training, they would have been shocked.
If the iron ball slipped from between their legs, it would smash their faces.
Worse, if they were unlucky, it could drop between their thighs and cause an even worse disaster.
Naturally, nothing like that happened to them—they simply focused on their training as if nothing could go wrong.
"I was actually looking forward to a war with the Empire. It’s a shame," Fel said when he came out a bit later.
Beside him, Ropord shook his head.
"I wasn’t looking forward to it at all."
War only brings sorrow.
Ropord understood that.
Fel wasn’t ignorant of it either, but he was simply the type to fight when necessary.
Enkrid observed the two.
They were certainly different, yet he felt they shared a similar temperament.
Both of them faced things head-on when there was something that needed to be done, but their approaches differed.
So, the way they learned and grew would be different as well.
The question he’d had before resurfaced in his mind.
These two had been beaten down and pushed to their limits countless times for that very purpose.
Audin had told him about their progress yesterday.
"I made sure to push them as hard as I could. Now, both of them have become quite interesting."
Enkrid thought he understood why Audin had said that.
"Will is responding."
As soon as he looked at them, both instinctively adjusted their stances and prepared themselves. It wasn’t because they were about to fight, but more like a conditioned reflex.
"A response learned through repeated experience."
He had brought them this far with the system he had created.
What was the answer?
’With a half-formed system, it’s difficult.’
Simply beating them physically could push Will to move at an unbelievable speed for a Junior Knight, but it wouldn’t be enough to guide him to true knighthood.
’Getting them to use Will unconsciously.’
That was the next goal for those two.
This wasn’t something he had planned or anticipated.
He just happened to see the two of them, and as he watched them take up their stances, he felt moved to act.
He had seen Yohan and stayed in a small village.
On his way to the Border Guard, Enkrid had learned a great deal—especially from teaching others, which proved to be quite significant.
His conversation with Valfir Balmung had helped as well.
It doesn’t end simply with gaining strength.
’Everything must be in harmony.’
Strength, reflexes, perception—everything must blend together and move as one.
And what leads all of that is willpower.
Ropord and Fel are different.
So, they require different approaches.
If you chalk up luck to being coincidence, then half of it is luck, and the other half is thanks to Enkrid’s unique way of growing.
Enkrid intuitively came up with a way to help the two rise above as knights. The moment he thought of it, his body moved It was the same decisiveness as always. Enkrid set down the iron ball and picked up Samcheol.
"Fel."
He spoke and moved without hesitation.
In an instant, Samcheol was drawn and swept upward, then came down in a vertical slash—between the steps of his feet and the swing of his arm, an overwhelming pressure crashed down on Fel.
To an observer, it didn’t look like an especially fast strike.
He can’t block that.
Ropord realized it the moment he saw the slash.
His insight was sharper than most.
He glimpsed the future, and sensed death was inevitable.
But this death wasn’t his own—it belonged to Fel.
Luagarne, who had been watching with him, had eyes wide open in shock, bigger than ever before.
Crimson veins popped out starkly over her eyeballs. She was straining with every bit of power unique to the Frog race.
A downward cut that would split the body apart.
Even if you dodged, you’d lose an arm.
Overwhelming pressure and a sword strike.
There had been barely any windup, no warning at all.
Fel, the target, placed a hand on Idol Slayer.
Even before Enkrid called his name, instinctively, he sensed the threat.
Much like a grazing herbivore that drinks water while warily watching its surroundings, Fel felt a surge of vigilance the moment he saw Enkrid.
He caught the instant when Enkrid’s intent shifted—and reacted.
Idol Slayer was drawn.
Ching—
Block it and live. Fail, and you die.
He needed to bring out Will, but there wasn’t even time to think about it.
With no time to process anything, everything unfolded instinctively.
For humans, survival is the foremost instinct.
In Fel’s case, he grew up as a Shepherd of the Wasteland.
They’ll do anything to stay alive.
That’s how Fel had always survived, from childhood.
To stay alive, without even meaning to, he drew out Will.
Zzzing.
Idol Slayer responded to Will, and every muscle, nerve, and sense in his body fused into one, striking back against Enkrid’s sword.
Whoosh.
No sound of metal clashing.
Samcheol halted and pulled back, while Idol Slayer only sliced through empty air.
Then Fel looked at Enkrid—but his gaze seemed to look past him, fixed on somewhere far beyond.
Tap.
The tip of Idol Slayer, which had sliced emptily through the air, dropped down and touched the ground.
Fel, arms hanging at his sides, simply froze in place.
Everyone was staring, unsure what had just happened.
"Shh,"
Enkrid pressed a finger to his lips and spoke.
Fel had entered his inner world.
The body and mind that had survived Audin and the Madmen Knights’ brutal training stood just one step away from becoming a true knight.
Enkrid was helping him take that step.
It was probably similar to this.
The Apprenticeship System.
It came naturally to mind.
Passing on knowledge through a master-and-apprentice relationship.
At least, that was the gist of what Balmung had told him.
Rem came out belatedly, rubbing his eyes, and grinned.
Now you’ve really seen everything, huh?
That sword technique Enkrid had shown a moment ago was exactly that.
Just the right speed.
He threatens your life without killing you, never giving you a moment to think about anything else.
Easier said than done.
Rem glanced at Enkrid and silently mouthed the words:
’Later.’
Rem said this, sensing the will stirring and a hint of that force slipping out on its own.
Just then, Jaxen was also coming out of the lodging, and he noticed that Enkrid’s senses seemed far keener than before.
Looking back, there was that moment when Enkrid instantly sensed his presence the second they crossed paths.
Jaxen’s eyes sparkled.
Playing tag wouldn’t be as easy as it used to.
Sneaking up from behind would be a real challenge now.
Except for Ragna, who was still sleeping, everyone moved toward the end of the training grounds.
Only after they had left Fel off in the distance did Ropord speak up.
"Why just Fel?"
If Fel gained enlightenment first, what was he supposed to do?
Enkrid looked at Ropord and said,
"For three days, don’t stop swinging your sword. Not a single drop of water—each time, imagine you’re blocking right on the verge of death."
While Fel needed a powerful shock to move forward, what Ropord required was time to organize and internalize what he’d built up so far.
At Enkrid’s words, Ropord fell into brief thought before replying
"I’ll be away for a while."
Since the new recruit training was left to the Squire named Clemen, Ropord didn’t really have anything he needed to stick around for.
Ropord disappeared just like that.
Before Fel woke up, he would return changed himself.
That determination was written clearly across his back.
"You picked up something interesting, didn’t you?"
Rem spoke up.
While Ragna had already noticed Enkrid’s change in level, the others hadn’t yet.
"I’ve learned a lot, actually."
"Oh yeah?"
Rem seemed ready to challenge him right away, but Enkrid glanced at the sunlight breaking through the clouds and replied,
"Later. I have a promise to keep."
"...Are you turning down a spar?"
Rem was surprised, but Enkrid simply responded without emotion.
"Samcheol’s Hilt has gotten loose. If we’re going to do this, I should do it properly."
"I’ll be waiting, brother."
It was Audin who answered.
"Teresa’s already made her decision, hasn’t she?"
Audin nodded with a smile in response to Enkrid’s question.
She was a step ahead of Ropord and Fel.
However, the path she chose was different from theirs as well.
It happened while Enkrid was away.
Audin, out of consideration for her, had told her various things and pointed out other possible paths she could take.
So he’d suggested.
"But the place I want to live, the home I want, is here."
Teresa shook her head.
There wasn’t a hint of hesitation.
Why do they all call this place home?
The man who was the reason for that nodded and reached for his oil-treated cloak.
"I’ll be back soon."
Aetri was waiting.
It had already been three days since his return.
The first day, he’d come back at dusk.
The next day, he told everyone what had happened while he was gone.
"Stories just sound better when you’re the one telling them, Commander."
That was Rem’s comment as he listened.
He’d already heard all this from Ragna, but that guy had a tendency to shorten stories way too much.
Anne had been there too, but she wasn’t exactly the talkative type either.
Enkrid, on the other hand, had plenty of experience paying to hear stories back in the day.
Unless someone was absolutely hopeless at storytelling, after hearing that many entertaining yarns, you naturally picked up a thing or two yourself.
Jaxen agreed with that assessment.
"I’m honestly about to beg you for the next story."
His expression was calm, but that’s what he said.
Aetri, after accepting Samcheol, had asked them to wait four days.
"I’ll fix it up and return it to you. And as for the engraved weapon, I’ve found something, but you’ll need to wait a little longer."
So the engraved weapon wasn’t ready yet. Still, Samcheol felt halfway like one already.
"Is that so?"
Enkrid answered and stood up, not prying for more details.
That was clearly Aetri’s department.
The frog, who was busy making accessories, gave Enkrid a knowing look, so Enkrid simply nodded back and stepped out.
The rain had nearly stopped, and sunlight was beginning to peek out.
When he got back to the unit, Rem was amusing himself by tossing three hand axes in the air.
He threw them one after the other, catching them alternately with each hand.
What looked like a circus trick to most people was nothing special for Rem.
"What are you doing?"
"Can’t you tell by looking?"
Should he blame Rem’s parents for his consistently sharp tongue, no matter what you said to him?
As Enkrid watched Rem, he realized he hadn’t quite shaken off last night’s dream.
Like dust that settles in a room after days without sweeping, a fine residue lingered in his mind.
That’s why he said:
"Don’t go dying on me so easily, Rem."
Smack.
Rem snatched a tumbling axe out of the air.
A light gleamed in his gray eyes—probably the effect of the power that filled his body, the kind they called sorcery.
"So you wanna fight, huh?"
Maybe it really was just "Rem being Rem," the way he twisted every word to suit himself.
Here, in this place, was a barbarian who took concern as a declaration of war.
"Hold on."
Enkrid raised a hand, palm out.
There was something he’d been preparing.
He intended to refine it a little more and then show everyone.
Until then, he would hold off on sparring.
"Do you think I’m a dog or something?"
Rem bristled at the sight of Enkrid’s upturned palm, but honestly, that was just another ordinary day.
And that night.
"So, what do you think?"
The Ferryman had set up a new stage for his play.
The props were nearly the same, only the actors had changed.
This time, it was Jaxen who died in Enkrid’s arms.

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