Temares possessed mind-reading, a talent for inferring what lay inside a person from attitude and posture.
If asked how such a thing was possible, all he could say was that he was dragonkin, but for that reason, he was the first among them to grasp Enkrid’s intent.
‘He’s deceiving them.’
And deceiving them in earnest. Temares had already fallen into step with him.
Would Shinar have failed to notice? She hid her presence, remembering this as the very moment when hearts understood each other without words.
For Shinar, hiding was easier than deceiving badly. As a fairy, concealing her emotions was part of everyday life, so that was only natural.
Jaxon had never been one to reveal himself to begin with, so from the outside, he maintained a sloppy attitude that made it seem as though splitting his body from one into two with a single cut would not be difficult.
Esther was a mage, so she had not entered the knights’ eyes from the start, and Rem was someone quick enough at reading situations that he could be called a knight of instinct.
‘Well, he wants to play.’
Rem knew very well that he was not the sort of person to lose himself in this kind of game. Even so, he naturally, if clumsily, showed fighting spirit several times.
In this regard, Rem was certainly a little different from the others. He acted in a way that subtly grated on the opponent’s nerves. Every so often, he would grip and release his axe as though he might charge at any moment, tightening and loosening his pressure.
A man who looked easy to beat if he actually attacked was brimming with the will to fight? That was extremely irritating.
In other words, he was reflecting exactly what they were doing back at them.
Would Valmung have failed to understand what they were doing?
‘They really are a strange breed.’
Their martial strength? If they entered the Imperial Order of Knights, they would immediately be in the upper ranks. If they adapted reasonably well and got along, perhaps they could even make order commander within ten years? As for the man named Enkrid, his vessel was large.
‘Though I’d have to see that happen to know.’
In any case, watching them do this despite possessing such strength—
‘They could have acted in a way that made it impossible to challenge them in the first place.’
It was not malice. Should he call it a strange playfulness?
Meanwhile, the man called Enkrid was truly full of the desire to fight every one of them.
Had he not already spent some time around him? Valmung now understood the man named Enkrid to some degree.
‘Half of it is playfulness.’
The other half was curiosity, amusement, and zeal.
‘No, it would be more accurate to say half is zeal, and the rest is playfulness and curiosity.’
As always, Enkrid was sincere. For instance, that Knight Rabelt from a moment ago—no, was it Ranolt?
Even when he faced that young knight, he had not simply ended it in one blow.
‘If he had just stayed a little calmer, I left it so he could avoid it.’
The young knight’s heart had wavered. The victory and defeat ended there. He would not have been able to win anyway, but he had failed to show what he had. That was why a faint disappointment had appeared in Enkrid’s eyes. Even as he said he was lucky, his eyes had quickly searched for the next opponent.
The remaining three Imperial knights standing ahead probably did not know it, but—
‘He’s acting so they can show their ability by the narrowest margin.’
That was something Valmung could see, but they had not noticed. That was Enkrid’s intent. He was not trying to measure their skill. He simply, purely, wanted to experience them and fight them.
‘Honestly.’
He had a talent for making a person’s blood boil.
Not because he was angry at being looked down on, but because he did it with such purity.
‘You’re an interesting bastard.’
If he had met Enkrid before the emperor of the Empire, perhaps he might have mingled with that side instead.
Valmung was human, and he was a knight, with a will so clear and pure that Temares called it beautiful. He understood the heart of Margrave Count Coty as well.
‘A pity, but.’
He did not dislike himself as an Imperial knight either. No, he was satisfied with it. Since the endpoint of the wandering and suffering of his younger years had been the Empire and the emperor, he was more than satisfied with the present.
The opponent was looking down on him? Even when he had no strength, Enkrid had rarely taken that quietly. But did that matter?
To Enkrid, that was far too small a reason. It was not particularly necessary for swordsmanship or for taking hold of his goal either.
More than that, his desire to see the strength the Empire possessed was far greater.
‘The Imperial Order of Knights.’
Four such opponents stood before him. Looking down on him? They could do it as much as they liked.
He did not care in the slightest. It would merely be disappointing if the difference in skill was so obvious that they were pressed down in spirit before they even began and could not properly show what they had.
“I was far too lucky. Mm.”
Enkrid’s acting was not bad. He looked like someone who had truly barely won. Jaxon sent him a satisfied look from afar.
It was acting skill good enough that he would not be bad as an assassin. Hiding one’s identity and approaching was one of an assassin’s fundamental arts.
“There is a saying that luck is also skill. I will go next.”
The female knight stepped forward. Her name was Rodio. She opened her mouth again.
“Knight Rabel—no, Ranolt has not been up from his injury for long, so he was not in his best condition.”
At those words, Falan, whose expression had hardened more than before, spoke.
“Excuses are a bad habit, Rodio.”
Rodio nodded. Thinking of an excuse or pretext first whenever something happened was an old habit of hers. Imperial knights were not people living above the clouds either.
They were people too. Those who were flawed were flawed, and those who were clumsy were clumsy.
If one looked only at what they had achieved purely as knights, Ranolt and Rodio were flawed and clumsy, but they overflowed with the spirit particular to the young.
Of course, it was not that Enkrid lacked spirit, but right now, he was not showing even a little of it.
“Luck is also skill. Those are good words, Knight Rodio.”
Enkrid stopped the needless provocation and raised Today. It was a middle guard angled toward the sky. Rodio also drew her engraved weapon.
It was an engraved weapon called Singing Sword. Whenever she swung or clashed her sword with Will in it, something like a melody flowed out and disturbed the opponent’s mind.
It was a sword completed after taking inspiration from a magic sword called Wail of the Dead, once used by a certain Death Knight.
For that reason, Rodio preferred a defensive form of swordsmanship that endured as long as possible rather than deciding the match in a single blow. After clouding the opponent’s mind that way, she finished them off. That was her certain-victory tactic, and it was a secret technique that had never failed against an opponent of similar skill.
Tang.
The Singing Sword and the sword that lived through Today clashed, scattering sparks. Enkrid matched the opponent’s tactic. As their swords met and parted, four kinds of noise—jing, ting, tang, and doong—rang out at different pitches and stimulated the hearing.
It was a technique that shook the five senses, beginning with auditory hallucination.
‘Not bad, but.’
Apart from swordsmanship skill, it was a trick that would not work on those with firm Will.
‘If she changed it a little more finely, like an awl.’
Then it would be somewhat better.
Enkrid immediately grasped the strengths and weaknesses of the opponent’s talent and, using his planted left foot as an axis, shook his body in small motions.
They were fighting face-to-face, but it was a tiny tremor difficult to perceive unless one sharpened the nerves minutely.
Rodio caught a moment that could have been missed without consequence.
‘An opening.’
Rodio was not conscious of it, but in the realm of instinct, she knew that the opponent before her stood above her. Because of that, she also knew that if she missed the opening she had just sensed, she would never have another chance to seize victory.
Instinct moved her body. Her Will exploded and loaded into her sword. Her two feet crossed front and back, and her sword drew a short arc. With that, she struck the opponent’s sword at an angle and pressed down. The opponent naturally put strength into it and endured.
Holding the sword in a bind like that, she crossed her feet once more, moved another half step closer, and trapped the opponent’s sword against her side. By intentionally cutting her strikes short, she created a situation where it was difficult to apply force and brought the sword in close. Everything was for this moment. In that way, Today was caught at Knight Rodio’s side.
‘I won.’
She had not missed the opponent’s opening, and she had sealed his sword. Just like that, Rodio swung her own sword upward. It was a short and concise cut. What mattered was stealing the timing.
Whoosh.
Her sword cut through empty air. The opponent had suddenly vanished.
‘Where?’
She was startled, but she responded. The opponent had disappeared, but if she stopped because she was startled, would that be a knight?
Her five senses and sixth sense chased the opponent. Her gaze searched for the vanished Enkrid.
The moment his sword was trapped against Rodio’s side, he had immediately let it go. Taking one step back like that, he avoided the following sword strike, then charged forward again and closed the distance.
‘He let go of his sword.’
It was a bold and violent method. That was Rodio’s final thought.
Bang!
A fist flew in and struck her head. Her brain shook, and the world turned black. She lost consciousness just like that.
When she woke again, it was still bright daylight. At some point, most of the cavalry had come closer and were watching from one side.
And aside from Knight Ranolt and herself, Knight Rebel was sitting there holding his nose with a blood-soaked cloth, while beside him, Knight Falan was down on one knee with his sword planted in the ground. There were clear traces of blood he had vomited on his chest.
Knight Falan was a well-ripened knight recognized by Count Coty, yet he had lost too.
She had not seen it, but naturally, Rebel had also challenged him. He had spoken playfully while bringing up fairies, but Rebel was also a knight, and after seeing the situation, he had gripped his sword with a serious attitude.
“This does not seem like a joke.”
Rebel stepped forward saying that, and his specialty was orthodox swordsmanship, but that was one of Enkrid’s greatest specialties.
Starting from Aker’s Web, to Wavebreaker, to Ember Killing.
Rebel was a single-minded man who had dug into orthodox swordsmanship alone. If asked whether that meant he was not fun, that was not the case either.
As a result, in terms of skill alone, he was the best opponent among the three, but Enkrid acted like his natural enemy.
He knocked the two of them down in no time. Enkrid was now beginning to reveal his true colors. With his left hand behind his back and a single sword in his right hand, he blocked every attack in advance.
After being caught by Ember Killing, Rebel’s face reddened, and he suddenly abandoned orthodox swordsmanship and launched a single thrust to decide the match, only to be struck on the bridge of the nose by a fist and forced back.
Hiding his left hand behind him had not been a provocation, but a deceptive tactic. The hand that struck his face was the left.
Enkrid had intentionally ended all three not with his sword, but with his hands. The first had been an elbow, but in any case, he had not finished them with the sword.
“Were you hiding your skill?”
After that, Knight Falan stepped forward, but he was not greatly different from the three. Falan was a knight trained evenly enough that there was no need to discuss his specialty, but he was no match.
After showing Ember Killing, Enkrid this time went on the attack with a lightning-like sword that ordinary eyes could not follow, breaking Falan’s posture and shoving him away.
Falan’s legs tangled, but he did not give up. Even from a strained posture, he extended his sword and quickly regained his balance.
Yes, a knight should at least do this much.
Falan’s eyes flashed, and his blade split. His engraved weapon was Hide, a method in which there were originally two swords, with one concealed.
On the surface, he maintained a grave attitude, but his one move resembled that of an assassin.
The grip of the longsword he usually used split into two, and a sword shorter by about a handspan sprang out, aiming for Enkrid’s chest.
It was a very well-hidden move. Because it was a blade hidden with full intent, no matter how keen one’s insight was, or even if one was dragonkin with mind-reading, it would be difficult to predict. It was a technique completed through harsh training.
Enkrid avoided the thrusting blade purely through reaction speed, planting his foot on the ground and leaning backward, then kicked him in the chest. The kick, loaded with the Will of Penetration, tightened around the area of his heart.
“Cough!”
With that, the fight ended. Falan vomited blood, stepped back, and put one knee to the ground.
That was the scene Rodio saw when she woke. The fights had not been long. Enkrid had not taken a single scratch. Only then did Falan and the rest see that none of these people were easy opponents.
Not only Enkrid. All of them were like that. The fame of the Mad Order of Knights from the continent was not empty.
“Is that all?”
Enkrid asked. That flat question was not mockery, but pure doubt.
Four knights had collapsed in an instant. They could not discuss the level of Imperial knights based on this, but were they not being pushed back far too one-sidedly?
It was enough to make everyone watching wonder the same thing.
“As expected, just watching makes me itch. Let’s go again.”
Valmung bared his fangs and came forward. He had intended only to watch, but as expected, this bastard did something that made a person’s blood boil.
Enkrid did not refuse. On his first day in the Imperial city of Manur, Enkrid simply worked hard at swordplay.
They stayed exactly one day like that, then left the next day.
“It was impressive. I will devote myself to training and see you again next time.”
The three young knights of the Imperial Order changed their attitude. Courtesy entered it. Enkrid left simple advice for the three of them, and whether they listened to it or not was up to them.
Knight Falan did not speak separately with him in private after that. He did not show great displeasure at the fact that he had lost, but he did not accept the situation pleasantly either.
But when Enkrid secretly looked, Falan was swinging his sword alone even in the middle of the night. He had reached the present because he hated losing.
Yet he had lost to a knight from the continent, so his pride had been deeply wounded. If he went a little further in the wrong direction from here, he might launch a night attack or try some trick, but he was not someone broken to that degree.
“He was a moderately ugly human.”
That was Temares’s evaluation of the knight named Falan, and Enkrid now understood what it meant.
If the fun of a spar with Valmung was ten, then with Falan, it had not even been three. Rather than enjoying the fight, he was someone who struggled desperately to win.
They boarded the carriage again and began traveling along the Imperial road. Before long, a group of people blocked the way ahead. The one who stepped forward at the front was a woman with a neat impression.
“I am Illain Rengadis, head of the Rengadis Merchant Group.”
She was a beauty. One comparable to the Black Flower and the Golden Witch.
She had come out beside the broad road, stopped the carriage, and set up a campsite. The sun had just set.
Mountains and forest could be seen far away, the plains had ended, and they had just crossed two hills.
She welcomed the party at exactly the right moment and in exactly the right place to rest.
“Do the people in the Empire plan to take turns coming out?”
Crang said with a laugh. Somehow, it seemed someone was there to welcome them everywhere they went.
The woman who introduced herself as Illain answered with a bright smile.
“That is how much we have been looking forward to Your Majesty’s visit.”
Her manner was practiced.

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