"Father, I will avenge you."
The man, once a genius sorcerer of the tribe, declared so as he cut off his own finger and cast a curse on himself.
It was all in preparation to kill one person.
Since it couldn't be done through normal means, he would resort to tricks upon tricks, even if it meant relying on luck to accomplish it.
The man made up his mind.
* * *
After passing through the Silence, the Demon Realm and heading further south, patches of grassland began to appear. And as expected, there were more monsters.
There are two no-man's lands in the west—one is the Silence, the Demon Realm, and the other is the River of No Return, a sea of sand.
The grassland now in view was made barren thanks to the Silence of the Demon Realm. Of course, for the current group, it wasn't a problem even if there were many monsters.
It was still nothing more than a picnic for them.
Even if a ghoul, which fought like a Knight, appeared, they could kill it without losing a limb. With Rem's support and Encrid's current state, it was possible.
When a ghoul appeared,
"Hiya!"
Dunbachel would spring out to engage it.
And if they happened to pass by an area where monsters seemed to be gathering, they would even alter their course to head that way.
"Let's loosen up a bit."
At those times, Encrid would step forward. Rem would simply watch quietly.
'You've improved a lot.'
There was no hesitation in his stride, and the sword he swung showed no mercy.
A ratman charged at him with a stick it had picked up somewhere. Encrid dodged without even looking, and with the Aker in his hand, he sliced its neck.
Slash.
The tough flesh of the monster was instantly cut through, sending its head flying into the air.
Behind the black-blood-splattering creature, another ratman fell to the ground with a hole in its forehead.
It was the result of the Ember that Encrid had drawn at some point. A faint afterimage appeared in front of the ratman with the hole in its head.
It was a mirage, created by Encrid's body moving at high speed. He was already swinging his sword at another target.
His strikes were relentless and vigorous.
He slashed vertically, stabbed, and kicked. All the movements were executed in a single breath. Three actions in a single breath.
That wasn't easy to pull off, yet he did it well now.
By the time the first ratman whose neck had been cut fell to the ground, six more had died. Then, a snake-like creature emerged from the ground.
He had felt an itch beneath his feet earlier, and now a sand snake had leaped out.
A large one could create dunes in the desert, but a creature of that size couldn't appear in this region.
So, while it was smaller, it was still as thick as an average man's thigh, and its tail tried to coil around Encrid's ankle from underground.
Encrid jumped forward to avoid the tail, but before his foot even touched the ground, he adjusted his balance midair and stabbed the Ember into the flat ground.
It was exactly where the sand snake's head would be.
'How did he know the weak spot?'
Rem thought to himself.
Sand snakes hide their heads while fighting, and that head is their weak spot. Encrid had pinpointed it instantly and killed it.
Instinct? Perhaps.
From a hunter's perspective, sand snakes have a habit of hiding their weak spots.
That's why they only expose their tails for attacks.
It's easy if you know, but difficult if you don't.
Yet Encrid didn't hesitate, despite not knowing.
As much as Rem hated to admit it, it was thanks to the sly talent of a wildcat, Jaxon.
Rem's observation was accurate.
Encrid seemed like he could sense his enemies' positions even with his eyes closed.
His perceptive skills had grown much sharper than before.
Facing a Giant, killing a sorcerer, and then sparring with Rem again.
Recently, he had begun to feel as though, despite training the same way, he was changing every day. He could vividly sense his growth.
His sword was extending further and further.
To explain it simply, his body was always in top condition.
His breathing was smooth, his arms extended perfectly, and the next move naturally came to mind as he moved.
When a ratman tried to stab him with its claws, he either blocked, slashed, dodged, stabbed, or even split it apart before it got close. Dozens of attack routes appeared before him.
Encrid simply chose one and moved accordingly.
And the predicted outcome followed.
The same happened with the sand snake. As soon as its tail appeared, he roughly sensed where its body was hiding and decided to test it by stabbing with the Ember, which resulted in black blood spurting out.
After killing that group of monsters, Encrid returned with only a few drops of black blood sprinkled on his body.
He wasn't even out of breath. Anyone would think he had merely gone for a light walk.
What's that on your body?
Oh? I don't know. Did something get on me?
Such a conversation could have easily occurred as he returned unscathed.
Even though he had just killed more than ten monsters, including ratmen.
"That's insane."
Rem said, laughing to himself.
When they returned, it seemed like it would be necessary to shove herbs into the eldest sorcerer's mouth to quickly retrieve the sorcereristic powers.
Dunbachel's gaze was odd. She looked at Encrid as if lost in thought, something uncharacteristic of her.
Luagarne simply nodded.
"When you enjoy it, you forget your limits."
She seemed to have reached some conclusion of her own.
In any case, the group continued moving.
Aside from battles, they mostly engaged in conversation. Whenever Juol got absorbed in cooking, Ayul would tell amusing stories beside him.
"Sometimes, a group of hunters from the continent settle near the northern part of the west. Near the wasteland by the desert."
"If you go in, you can't come out, right?"
It was a story about outsiders living near the desert.
"That's why they stay only on the outskirts."
"Greed brings disaster. If you crawl into the desert, you might come back as a skeleton soldier, but that's quite a distance from here."
Rem chimed in from the side.
Juol, who was stirring a large pot with barley, oats, and thinly sliced salted meat, added his input.
"Hunters come for the gem-tailed lizard and gem-eared fox. Those creatures occasionally come out to the desert outskirts, and they wait to catch them."
It was an unfamiliar animal. The west had many unique creatures, and what Juol mentioned was one of them.
Apparently, these animals had gemstones attached to them.
The lizard had them on its tail, and the fox on its ear.
They lived in the desert because they fed on sand.
Though they wouldn't die from water, they were said to be rabid, each one showing signs of madness.
They were quite ferocious, but if you failed to catch them, you could simply pour water from your canteen on them, and they would run away.
If successful, you could obtain a few gems. Even if you failed, your life wasn't in danger.
So, what's needed?
"Patience is the key. You don't go deeper into the desert and just wait for them to come out."
"You need luck, though. Waiting doesn't guarantee you'll meet them."
"What luck? Understanding their habits comes first."
Rem, Juol, and Ayul each had slightly different takes.
But the general idea was clear.
An intelligent, prepared hunter needed patience to catch them.
And luck was a factor in the process.
How many skilled hunters came all the way to the west just to catch gem-tailed lizards or gem-eared foxes?
Criminals, fugitives, deserters, those chased by gambling debts.
All sorts of people would try their hand at hunting.
Naturally, idiots would pop up now and then.
Juol said that a mercenary band once came to catch foxes, but after failing, they ended up attacking the tribe in the west.
Sizzle.
Juol shook the pot up and down. As the salted meat and grains cooked evenly, they formed a soft arc, bounced upward, and then fell back into the pot. The action spread a savory, fragrant smell through the air.
Encrid, being an excellent listener, added a comment during Juol's cooking.
"So, what happened? Smells amazing."
"You'll love it. It's a western specialty, fried barley. What happened? I killed half of them, and the rest ran away. The others probably became monster food."
Sometimes, very rarely, someone capable would patiently wait, obtain a gem, and return, but it didn't seem like an easy task. Moreover, even if they did, it wasn't the kind of wealth that could change their life.
Would Krais form a hunting squad to go after them if he heard this?
Probably not. Krais hates leaving things to luck.
If he were to hunt those gem creatures, he would first learn their habits and figure out a way to minimize the element of luck before proceeding.
As for Encrid himself?
He wouldn't bother. He could make money through other means.
It was just idle talk.
Sizzle.
Steam rose from the pot. The western specialty, fried barley, was ready.
It was a dish made with wild barley, oats, and various dried vegetables. The seasoning came from finely chopped salted meat, and it tasted amazing.
Encrid scooped a large spoonful into his mouth, the barley bouncing between his teeth. As he bit down, the nutty flavor filled his mouth, blending perfectly with the herbs and saltiness.
Encrid instinctively gave a thumbs-up.
"Exquisite."
Juol smiled in satisfaction.
The group tidied up the monsters and made their way back to the tribe.
"You're back."
The chief was the first to welcome them.
After returning, life went back to normal. Two days later, Rem came to Encrid and said,
"I'm heading off. Don't cause any trouble while I'm gone."
"To think I'd ever hear you say something like that."
"You'll enjoy it when I return."
Rem smiled as he said this and then left.
What is sorcerism? Encrid didn't know exactly, but one thing was clear.
Ragna may have first reached the realm of Knights, but Rem would soon reach similar heights.
"They say you could die if you mess up, right?"
The more talented you are, the higher the chances of death. That's what they said about sorcerism.
It was Ayul who had told him that. When Encrid asked Rem about it, Rem just turned his head and asked in return,
"Do I seem like someone who's going to die?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
At that, Rem laughed and left. Encrid chuckled too, and went back to his routine—swinging his sword, moving his body, and sparring from time to time.
"Aren't you bored?"
One of the twins asked from the side.
One of the two was unconscious.
Encrid had once wondered if they would speak only half a sentence when one of them fainted, but that didn't seem to be the case. Encrid responded to the twin's question.
"About what?"
"Training."
"How could this be boring?"
He wasn't someone you could reason with. The twin fell silent.
Encrid ignored the question and savored the anticipation.
Just as he had learned something from Ragna, he knew he would learn something from Rem as well. The thought made Encrid's heart race.
In the meantime, Ayul came by and mentioned that it would take about two weeks for Rem to return. Encrid didn't think that was a long time.
During that period, the Fortune-teller Tribe was caught, and a young sorcerer from Rem's tribe saved a crippled man.
He had been kept as food by cannibals.
His face was pocked with scars, his left hand had been cut off except for his thumb, and his speech was slow and slurred.
Although he wasn't particularly gifted in sorcery arts, his care for the sick was remarkable.
Perhaps it was because his own body wasn't in perfect condition that he could understand others' pain so well.
By taking care of those still cursed by the Bora Demon, the cripple ended up staying in the same barracks as Encrid, often making strange sounds as he crawled across the ground.
Ssssk, sssssk, sssssk.
It was the sound of his arms scraping the floor as he moved.
Five days had passed since Rem left for the Sacred Sanctuary. Encrid woke up early, practicing the Isolation Technique. It was one of those days when his eyes opened earlier than usual. Since neither Luagarne nor Dunbachel had awakened, he was alone.
As he moved, Encrid found himself deep in thought.
'If curses are useless, does that mean sorcerism won't work on me?'
Does that mean he could be careless when facing sorcerers?
Probably not.
But he knew curses didn't affect him. That gave Encrid a small advantage.
"You're immune to curses."
The cripple spoke.
Encrid hadn't paid much attention to him, but he noticed that the man's tone had changed. There was no longer any slurred speech.
Encrid had the Aker at his waist and was clad in armor. He was fully armed.
Why?
No particular reason.
Training could be done without armor, but today, he felt like wearing it.
That morning, he had thought to himself,
Comfort is a compromise. Consistent training and repetition are what provide the strength to move forward.
That included maintaining his equipment, so he decided to wear his armor.
Not to mention, he was even carrying the bow he had received as a gift, although he hadn't had the chance to use it yet.
That was unfortunate for his opponent.
It would have been a problem even if he hadn't been armed, but now he was fully armored.
Encrid saw dozens of attack lines and knew that his opponent's disability was real.
Furthermore, the opponent was well within the range of his sword. If he wanted to, he could cut him down in the time it took to exhale.
"Curses don't work on you, huh? A natural enemy."
The man spoke again.
As Encrid looked into his eyes, he began to recognize him. The face was familiar, perhaps from a brief encounter.
The impression left by the man who had thrown the final dagger after killing the Apostle was strong.
It was him.
What had they said about him?
Someone from the Fortune-teller Tribe?
Ah, they had said he was the most talented sorcerer since Rem.
Geom Nares had mentioned that it was quite unfortunate, and Hira had called him the greatest misfortune of the Fortune-teller Tribe.
A genius sorcerer, perhaps even more gifted than Rem, though younger.
His greasy hair, eyes crusted with sleep, and missing front tooth made it hard to recognize him at first.
Had he lost his leg because of the dagger Encrid threw? Did they cut it off entirely since he couldn't use it anyway?
That's what it seemed like.
He was in terrible shape.
But he laughed.
It wasn't joy, it was a madness tinged with hatred. His eyes seemed to boil, like someone had poured scalding water into them. Steam born of hatred rose from his gaze.
His voice matched, filled with the pain of someone whose bowels were being twisted and torn apart.
"You think there's no other way if curses don't work?"
With a fake laugh, full of barely hidden agony, he continued.
"This is a secret technique for which I have sacrificed my future, my soul, everything."
Why did this remind Encrid of the time when the Fairy assassin had attacked him during his time with the Border Guard?
Even though he hadn't let his guard down, the dagger had slipped through the smallest gap, just like now.
"By sacrificing past, present, and future."
As the man spoke, he extended his hand. From his fingertips, a thread-like substance emerged and touched Encrid's body. There was no sense of danger or hostility, so Encrid could have ignored it, but he instinctively swung his sword.
As expected, in less than the time it took to exhale, his blade sliced through the man's head.
Slash.
The man's head split vertically as he remained in that position, his hand still extended. Blood, brain matter, and fragments of bone began to spill out, and Encrid's vision went black.
Even though everything turned dark, he resisted the urge to close his eyes. The world around him began to spin. The sky and the ground flipped upside down.
He felt a sudden sense of weightlessness. Aside from when being struck and sent flying, this was the first time he had experienced such a sensation.
At the end of the weightlessness, light scattered in front of him, forcing him to close his eyes.
The first thing he felt was the scorching heat.
It was unlike the sunlight of the city of Oara or the warm rays of the western lands. It was the kind of heat that felt like it could sear his flesh.
When he opened his eyes, the world was yellow. The sky was high, and all around him was nothing but sand.
The only peculiar sight was the three corpses kneeling, completely dried out, in a triangle around him.
He didn't need to look closely to know. There was no sign of life in them. They had been dead for some time.
Encrid's strength lay in his quick understanding of situations.
As he analyzed what had happened, he wondered how things had come to this.
One thing was certain.
He had learned something new once again.
Never let your guard down, no matter the circumstances.
Even if clad in steel armor, one could still be pierced by a sharp dagger.
That seemed to be what had happened to him now.
He looked around. Besides the sand, there was nothing else in sight.
Rolling sand, dunes, and mirages rising from the heat. The only thing that came to mind was the River of No Return, the sea of sand.
It had been the enemy's last resort.
Not a curse, but a secret technique, one that a genius sorcerer had used at the cost of his life and the lives of his comrades.
Since the curse hadn't worked, they had sent him into the desert. That seemed to be the case.
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