"He's here."
Enkrid said.
"You blocked it. Brother."
Their words crossed each other. As soon as Enkrid saw the Balrog's kick, he'd crossed his arms to block it. He hadn't just taken it. This was something he'd done while refusing the Balrog's Intimidation in real time.
And though it was too obvious to mention, the one who caught the flying Enkrid was Audin.
He felt warmth from the hands supporting his back. It was thanks to Audin emanating divinity.
"I'm not hurt."
Enkrid said again.
"You look it. What kind of fun were you having without us?"
Rem's voice cut in from behind Audin. Enkrid heard an awkward word in Rem's speech.
'Us?'
Had he known how to use such words?
It was probably something he'd said without realizing it. It would be incredibly awkward if he thought back to the Troublemaker Squad days, but now it wasn't like that anymore.
He'd spent enough time with them for the word 'us' to fit quite well now.
Ragna stood beside Rem with his usual expression, and Jaxen narrowed his eyes with his arms hanging loosely.
He was probably gauging his opponent. Because he knew this wasn't a sloppy opponent, he wouldn't use his hands right away.
That was their battle stance. Everyone, including Rem, and especially Audin, had their gazes fixed forward while letting a gentle light flow from his hands.
Not just Jaxen, but by each person's own standards, they must be feeling a murderous presence.
The campfire flames moved as if alive, stretching long to touch what had been Oara's shadow. The fire circled once along the shadow's border, and from the shadow emerged hands, horns, a head, a chest studded with black crystals side by side.
It was like a crouching bear rising to its feet.
The Balrog didn't remember it, but Enkrid had one unique memory, so as he straightened his body using Audin's supporting hand as a brace, he asked.
"You squeeze with Intimidation and strike right away?"
Originally the Balrog only used his Intimidation to test opponents, but this time he'd just attacked outright. That was unexpected.
—Asking questions right off the bat, are you? Mortal.
The Balrog's perceptiveness was top-notch too. He'd noticed the arrow of words thrown so suddenly. Of course, Enkrid knew he'd understand.
Wasn't it a face he'd seen often enough to grow fond of?
He could read the demon's mood by looking at his expression. Well, the Balrog's expressions tended to be quite simple and straightforward, so it couldn't really be called difficult.
"When I'm curious about something, I'm like that."
The conversation between the two was peculiar. One side—the human—spoke as if he knew the other, while the opposite side—the one called the god of War—maintained an unfamiliar attitude. Of course, neither of them cared about that.
"You look friendly."
When Jaxen's mood soured, his words became short. Like now.
"Do we."
Enkrid received those words casually. Audin let out a chuckle with his smiling face.
Though Jaxen had opened his mouth to add more, the group that had joined didn't seem to pay much attention to the conversation between the two either. As soon as they saw the thing rising from the shadow, everyone had entered battle stance.
If they let their guard down, they'd die. Their skin tingled.
If someone was dull enough not to read the atmosphere of this place, they couldn't be called a knight.
If an ordinary person entered here, their heart would stop or their lungs would shrink. That much pressure crushed the surroundings. They said it had become a labyrinth by turning into a Demonic Realm, but even if they'd met outside, the quality of this air probably wouldn't have been different. The momentum emanating from those gathered here was itself a deadly weapon.
And as if free from all this pressure, the Balrog conveyed his will.
—I was summoned and came, though I had no expectations. But.
He conveyed his will by vibrating the air rather than vocal cords. It was familiar to Enkrid, but to the others it would be another strange trick. Still, they could roughly understand the principle just by watching.
And even if they didn't know, they wouldn't care.
The corners of the speaking Balrog's mouth lifted and the flames inside his eyeballs spun round and round. Enkrid had seen it countless times. It was an expression showing elation, joy, and satisfaction.
Enkrid had seen the Balrog grinning like that many times. So he knew what he was about to say. If he'd predicted his opponent's action, there was no reason to hesitate to get a hit in. Enkrid's mouth opened before the Balrog's.
"It'll be fun, won't it?"
Before he knew it, Enkrid was wearing the same smiling face. This wasn't intentional. It was an expression that came out naturally, truly mixed with anticipation and joy.
Enkrid had stolen the words the Balrog was about to say. In reality, it wasn't so much stealing as words Enkrid himself often uttered.
—Yes, that's what I was going to say.
The Balrog also conveyed his will. He wasn't shaken even this much. The Balrog was that kind of guy. Anyway, since he was one step ahead in words, he was satisfied with that.
Crunch.
And before he knew it, the fairy who'd stood right beside Enkrid ground her molars and stepped forward. Enkrid had been at the front, but this was further than him.
The fairy's back entered Enkrid's view. Though small in stature, the presence felt in his mind's eye was large. Considering what could be done with that body, it was. Resolve could be glimpsed from Shinar stepping forward. This wasn't the kind of momentum usually seen from fairies. They tended to maintain a quiet, contemplative posture without showing emotion.
For her to step forward like this was truly rare. They say a fairy's Intimidation creates fragrance rather than form?
Originally what fairies used wasn't Will but Forest Energy, so that's why.
The scent of the forest wafted strongly. The fairy wrapped in fragrance from head to toe opened her mouth.
"Who hit him? Was it that bastard? Tell me. I promise vengeance of blood."
Blood and vengeance weren't words befitting a fairy. Even Jaxen seemed surprised, adding a comment.
"A fairy promising vengeance of blood?"
"It was a phrase I've wanted to try once."
The fairy scattered the momentum with which she'd been grinding her molars and spoke lightly. After a very long time, a fairy-style joke that excluded fiancés or Enkrid exploded.
If asked why she was throwing jokes at a moment like this, there was an answer. Precisely, Enkrid could understand immediately.
Fire and demon—those two elements stimulated Shinar's mental trauma. So for her too, releasing tension must have been necessary.
"But the promise of vengeance is sincere."
Shinar said again. In reality, separate from releasing tension, the current Shinar had forgotten past wounds and was only glaring at the bastard who'd struck Enkrid.
'How dare someone hit him?'
Something like that showed in her eyes.
The stage was set. Enkrid had dragged out time from the start, hoping they would come. These were people who would shout from far away and come even at the cost of injury if he was in danger. Meeting them while preserving both his own strength and theirs was the start of this operation.
So the beginning could be called good.
Rem, Jaxen, Ragna, Audin, Shinar, and himself—six in total faced the Balrog.
He saw Oara, who'd rolled to one side, barely raising her head. Enkrid knew from experiencing several todays. If he started fighting this way, instead of Oara transforming into a Balrog, she'd be sprawled to one side as a spectator.
As that Oara looked this way, Enkrid looked at her and spoke with a calm attitude. Whether teasing her or now, his attitude and tone remained the same.
"Today is the last."
Resolve, will, conviction, vow—all of these make Will stronger. Enkrid forgot the endlessly repeating today. He forgot the Ferryman. He left only one thing in his head. He organized complex thoughts and brought them to one conclusion.
'Kill the Balrog.'
This was a battlefield created by the concept expanded through repeating today.
Must he endure all this alone? How far does that 'alone' extend? Isn't their help also something built up all this time?
If you looked inside Enkrid's head, you'd know there were no such complex thoughts. Only simple, clear will filled it.
'If I can do it, I do it.'
Others' strength—if together with his unit members, he could catch it without borrowing. This was a stage made with faith, not calculation.
The corners of Enkrid's mouth lifted higher. Thump-thump, his heart kept beating. His Will also surged freely. It would be a lie to say he wasn't looking forward to what would unfold.
Certainly, from this aspect, the word madman wasn't awkward at all for Enkrid.
Though he'd died and died again, he didn't feel fear. He just seemed like a person who existed for battle.
Now, who's the god of War?
It seemed to ask this.
Of course, as the continent's law dictates, the winner would always be the right answer.
Victor and loser—in the end, the living and the dead would be divided. It was no different from standing at the boundary between life and death.
In this situation, a smiling human was like a line protruding alone from a perfectly symmetrical picture. Enkrid was like that.
Whooooosh.
As if preparing for battle, the line that had been burning along the Balrog's border stretched sideways like a snake, then changed into something like either a whip or fire-serpent and stood straight as if raising its head stiffly.
Then in his right hand appeared a sword with black flames blazing. Black fire rose from the leather skin and materialized into a sword along his hand.
It was a fascinating technique every time he saw it. The Balrog possessed the skill of storing weapons in his body.
He didn't envy anything else, but that was somewhat enviable.
The Balrog also entered battle stance. Watching that, Enkrid discussed tactics. There wasn't time to ponder at length. There was even less time to receive everyone's opinions and discuss. So he just spoke briefly and thickly. That was also why the words came out as commands.
"I'll block, Rem throws, Ragna cuts."
Of course, this alone couldn't make everything fit perfectly. The Balrog wouldn't just watch either.
[* * *]
"Do you plan to memorize all the patterns?"
A day from a past today. The Ferryman asked suddenly. Watching what he was doing while dragging out time with three teachers, it must have seemed like he was observing the Balrog's fighting style.
But could you win just by memorizing all the patterns? That was the Ferryman's question.
Even though he'd gotten ahead in combat calculations by separating and accelerating his thinking, the Balrog leisurely broke the premise of those calculations.
'One kick was enough.'
It was a kick like a new being intervening from outside the battlefield. Why did it happen that way? The reason was simple.
'The Balrog has more fighting experience than me. Both on the battlefield and in one-on-one combat.'
He could fill that empty space with experience even without deliberately running combat calculations. The guy had accumulated that much experience.
What did this mean?
Enkrid knew he couldn't block all the trajectories created by the Balrog's sword, whip, fists and feet with simple combat calculations.
The Ferryman who'd been discussing patterns conveyed his will like stating an established truth, like saying the morning sun will rise tomorrow.
"No matter what you do, you'll eventually break. Even if you endure and endure, the end is the same. Then you won't be able to choose."
Was this helping or hindering? Who could tell?
To the Ferryman's eyes, the future of this man called Enkrid just looked pitch black. In a dual sense. One meaning was that his future path would be that difficult, and the other was that it was pitch black because even the Ferryman now found it hard to predict what today would come. Why couldn't he see his future?
Because the 'record' was already broken and could no longer be the subject of wagers. Just the record breaking had swayed the hearts of several weak ones.
"Even if you overcome without borrowing, what about the next? What if something worse than this comes next? You'll eventually break. Even if you regret it then, nothing will change."
Enkrid, who'd been silent while pondering how to fight, looked into the Ferryman's empty pupils.
He didn't know what answer that Ferryman wanted, but Enkrid's answer was decided. It was the upright will that hadn't changed since he first gripped a sword.
"Well, I can think about that when the time comes."
A simple, clear answer. The Ferryman couldn't continue speaking. One could say he was at a loss for words.
Would someone not sleep or open their eyes in the morning because they don't know what the future holds?
The future is always variable. He doesn't know how that variable will turn out. The Ferryman doesn't know either. Because he doesn't know, he's like that.
"If you're scared, just watch."
Enkrid said half-jokingly, and the Ferryman's words were briefly blocked again because he didn't want to reveal his fear.
"Impudent bastard."
He just left words like that.
Enkrid was always the same. He just did his best with what happened right before his eyes. The work within reach, the work he could do, the work that must be done now—he devoted himself to it.
If he didn't do his best now, tomorrow's him would just live like that too, and if he was going to live like that, he would have stayed in such a today long ago. Moreover, he enjoyed now and the moment. There was no one more living only for today than him.
Even within the Ferryman's vast fence of experience, this was a first.