Chapter 614 - Profit and Amusent
Strike, slash, and strike again.
Ragna’s sword cleaved through, slashed apart, and crushed his foes.
He sought to create an impregnable wall.
At the very least, he aid to refine the thod Enkrid had demonstrated.
Though effective, Ragna wondered if it could truly be called sophisticated.
Depending on the perspective, it might seem even more brutish—beyond just consuming Will.
Ragna’s swordplay wasn’t insanely fast. As a result, the soldiers he broke and crushed were vividly imprinted in everyone’s sight. No, it wasn’t simply visible—it was as though soone had forcefully shoved the scene into their eyes.
"Get down. Or die."
Ragna spoke as he moved, issuing warnings between swings. These words were nothing less than death sentences for the enemy soldiers.
"Ridiculous!"
A crusader, confident in blocking at least one strike, fell dead.
Another crusader, the most skilled in shield-handling in the unit, also died.
Even a junior knight who got caught in a passing slash perished.
Fear set in.
One soldier thought to himself, This is terrifying.
Before he could consider not wanting to die or missing his mother, his instincts reacted to reject death itself.
Pure terror consud him.
And thus, a wall of fear was drawn.
Fear beca a wall that blocked their advance, creating an impenetrable barrier.
This was Ragna’s impregnable wall.
"What... is this?"
Müel was left speechless, his mouth agape in disbelief.
Among those who recognized the power, Will, and aning imbued in Ragna’s swordplay, one couldn’t help but shout, overwheld by the display.
"Well done, brother! Allow to show you sothing as well!"
Ragna’s display was a culmination of his honed swordsmanship, and Audin couldn’t contain his excitent upon witnessing it.
Ragna’s sword answered the promise made before Audin’s return to asure his skill.
Do you still want to speak of training?
Even if Ragna hadn’t ant it that way, it struck Audin as such.
Taking a step forward, the returning mber spoke up.
"I am Audin of the Madn Knights Order."
Despite his tattered attire, such trivialities escaped notice.
His very presence and deanor left a profound impact on everyone around him.
"I am but a humble servant, ashad of this sight. Father, why have You allowed them to walk the path of corruption? I now send them to Your side. Please guide these lost lambs back to where they belong."
With his words, Audin strode towards Azratik.
The distance between them wasn’t great, and it closed to re steps in no ti.
Azratik observed his approaching opponent.
Not only did his figure grow larger, but his presence also intensified with each step.
For twenty years, his only rival had been Overdier, but now, one by one, individuals were erging to challenge him.
This man before him was one such individual.
The aura emanating from him spoke volus.
Had Azratik remained quietly within the Church, he would never have encountered this mont.
"To place what one desires on one side of the scale, one must balance it with sothing of equal value on the other."
Muttering as he watched Audin approach, Azratik pondered.
If what he desired was the passion he had long forgotten, what could he place on the opposing side of the scale?
Honor?
Life?
Such was the teaching of the God of the Scales. But wasn’t betrayal crossing a line?
If desperation drove him to it, could crossing that line be justified?
Or was all of this rely self-rationalization?
Had Enkrid discerned his inner turmoil, he would have nodded, telling him not to use such excuses to run away.
"Are you excited, old brother with a sick head?"
Audin’s question ca as he closed the distance, noticing Azratik’s expression resembled that of an eager child on the eve of a field trip.
"I am."
Azratik answered honestly, feeling the forgotten flas of passion ignite once more.
This was the battle he sought.
On the opposing side of the scale lay his reputation, his life, and even his betrayal.
What he stood to gain was the exhilarating thrill of a life-or-death battle.
"So am I."
Audin smiled warmly.
Preparing to send Azratik to the God of War to account for his sins, this smile reflected Audin’s inherent kindness.
To the eye, Azratik ’s physique seed about half of Audin’s, yet his aura was equally formidable.
Azratik moved his thick, long fingers gently up and down, stepping closer.
Those very fingers, his weapon, had earned him the nickna "Serpent."
The two now stood within arm’s reach.
Tap.
Audin and Azratik touched the backs of their right hands together.
It was an old habit from their days as unard warriors, marking the start of a duel.
Their hands separated, and strikes and grabs flew between them.
At first, the sounds were faint.
Tak-tak, thud!
The noise ca from their hands and feet eting, but their blows carried no damage as each deflected and redirected the other’s energy.
Azratik attempted to use Divine Penetration, but Audin countered with the holy energy surging from within himself.
Their movents, subtle yet profound, carried both attack and defense.
Among those present, only those capable of sensing Will recognized the deadly nature of their exchange.
"Excellent!"
Azratik shouted.
He had feinted a sweep at Audin’s ankle with his left foot, attempting to entangle and trip him, but Audin, reading the move, chose evasion over blocking.
Azratik realized that in terms of technique alone, there was no gap between them.
Or perhaps... I’m slightly outmatched?
He found joy in that thought.
If technique faltered, what remained was pure power.
Whuaaang!
Azratik began emitting light—not the dull gray hue from before but a pure white radiance.
This was holy energy accumulated over decades.
While not infinite like the Will possessed by so, its sheer volu defied easy asure.
"Well done!"
Audin shouted in response.
He, too, was being read.
Azratik had avoided a feinting strike Audin had attempted with his hand, aiming to claw at his shoulder.
Azratik, instead of defending directly, countered by clasping hands to neutralize the attack.
Even as they locked strength briefly, Audin recognized the unyielding force opposing him.
He couldn’t overpower it with short bursts of effort.
Light emanated from Audin’s body as well.
His light was more of a flash with a yellowish hue rather than a pure white.
The combined lights of Azratik and Audin made it difficult to imdiately determine who had the upper hand.
In other words, this wasn’t a fight that could be decided in a short ti.
Enkrid, watching it all, recalled the conversation they had just had before the battle. It was a passing thought.
"There’s no guarantee that we’ll win, is there?"
Before stepping in, Enkrid looked at the hand that had grasped him.
It was a hand ford out of words, but he couldn’t just ignore it and brush it off.
It had been from soone he considered a friend.
Noah had approached him with these words.
He was genuinely worried and concerned.
It seed as though Noah was saying that if they were to truly be friends, he couldn’t just let it slide.
In fact, to Enkrid, none of that really mattered.
Even if he understood Noah’s sincerity, he wasn’t about to listen to his words.
"I might not have a great eye for strategy, but I understand that this isn’t sothing that can be solved by tactics."
Noah spoke again, in a tone neither fast nor slow.
It wasn’t wrong.
The naless crusader had said sothing similar.
In a fight with a small elite force, victory would be ideal.
But even if they sohow held out, if an army advanced, they wouldn’t be able to protect the monastery.
If a paladin held off the small elite forces and the army made a direct assault, those who were ant to die would die.
It was an obvious outco.
And didn’t the ones standing there say that they would be able to handle that much?
Of course, that was blocked by the efforts of Ropord, Fel, Teresa, and Ragna’s sword work.
Noah couldn’t know that.
After all, it was sothing that hadn’t even happened yet.
"We could lose or even die."
Enkrid acknowledged Noah’s words.
It was a response born from understanding the aning behind his words, not just the strategy.
The idea that there’s no guarantee of winning ant there was a possibility of death or defeat.
It was uncertain, like dancing on the edge of a dangerous cliff.
"Then why go this far?"
Originally, the man had only wanted to save the children.
Noah’s eyes were clear.
There was a light in them that couldn’t be seen in the eyes of the worldly priests.
At the question of "why," Enkrid thought for a mont.
Was it the spirit of soone who would continue to show their determination even if they died and repeated today?
That wasn’t it.
In monts of crisis, Enkrid forgets the curse.
That was sothing his companions admired most about him.
He was a madman walking solely toward tomorrow.
"Why do rchants embark on a journey when they might be struck by lightning?"
There was no need to think too hard, so Enkrid quickly answered.
To Noah, it might have sounded like the words of a Cohen, one who seeks truth through scripture.
But unlike Cohen, the aning was clear.
"You can’t walk the road if you’re afraid of tomorrow."
Therefore, if you’re afraid of losing, you can’t wield a sword.
If you feared death, you wouldn’t dream of becoming a knight.
Naturally, if you feared what ca after, you’d have to turn back.
The task was too difficult, after all.
"Even if I ran away from here, what would happen if sothing like this happened again later?"
Enkrid spoke, still in his calm tone.
He spoke with such ease that anyone who heard it would instantly believe he would never do such a thing.
If you turn away once, you could turn away again.
If you justify yourself once with an excuse, you could do it again.
One mistake doesn’t decide everything.
It’s just that he didn’t like the idea of having an opportunity to correct it and not acting.
An uncertain tomorrow lay before Enkrid.
But what he couldn’t do before because of his lack of strength, he could now.
And that made him happy.
That was the truth.
It was a thought that ca after seeing Ropord’s actions, Ragna’s sword strikes, and Audin stepping forward.
More precisely, it was a thought that ca to him after seeing the man standing before him.
"Didn’t they say there were only two paladins?"
A man wielding a trident.
His boots made a clinking sound as they scraped along the ground.
Rather than the opponent approaching, it was Enkrid who stepped forward first, and as he did, the man lifted his helt and set it aside.
It was a helt with a visor.
In a battle with a knight, the visor could hinder vision, making it disadvantageous to wear.
But the man didn’t remove it for that reason.
"Do you not wear your helt? It’s best to match the conditions, right?"
He was trying to maintain balance.
In other words, he wanted to fight under similar circumstances.
Enkrid sensed an uncomfortable dissonance.
His tone, attitude, and the atmosphere all gave off a feeling, sothing almost instinctual, that this man might do anything, as long as it was advantageous to him.
It felt like soone who had a different nature on the inside from what he showed outwardly.
"If that’s the case, shouldn’t you change your weapon too?"
Enkrid spoke, half in jest.
He suggested that if they were to maintain balance, they should at least have similar weapons.
No matter how he looked at it, the weapon the man was holding seed to be so sort of engraved weapon, and it wasn’t because of dust in his eyes.
"Changing weapons is excessive. The engraved weapon is like another version of myself. I can’t fight without it."
The opponent imdiately refused.
His tone suggested it wasn’t even worth considering.
He appeared to be around the sa age as Enkrid.
At least on the surface, he looked young, probably even younger.
Enkrid, with his luck from the goddess of fortune, appeared much younger than he really was.
In his twenties, he didn’t look this young, but now, after turning thirty, he often looked a decade younger than his actual age.
Age aside, the opponent certainly didn’t look easy to deal with.
Talent, after all, has nothing to do with personality.
That was sothing Enkrid knew even before becoming a knight, even before repeating today.
"May I ask sothing?"
His tone was strange, almost like an old man’s, but it seed more dismissive.
’Ah, it sounds like he’s belittling .’
Enkrid didn’t think much of it.
After all, this wasn’t soone he was going to engage in a war of words with.
"Ask."
"Why did you step forward?"
Ah, that question again.
After hearing the follow-up, it was clear the reason wasn’t the sa as Noah’s.
This wasn’t a question about why one would risk their life in an uncertain fight; it was pure curiosity.
"Isn’t there nothing to gain from this?"
The constellation of Libra says that sothing must be placed on the opposite scale.
If the man was willing to risk his life here, then there must be sothing on the other side of the scale to balance it out.
Whether it be financial gain or sothing else.
The trident wielder was simply curious about that.
Enkrid nodded at the question.
There was a second reason he couldn’t tell Noah.
It wasn’t that he ca here to gain sothing, but it wasn’t as if there was nothing to gain either.
It wasn’t about saving people, but there was also a reward for this fight.
A small gain, but the ultimate reward was experience.
Enkrid had learned that fighting opponents of equal or greater skill, or even monsters, had been a great help in improving his abilities since becoming a knight.
Even the techniques he had learned and practiced, like cutting through walking fire, proved that.
But this was just a minor benefit.
There were deeper reasons for his actions.
If Noah heard this, he would probably think Enkrid was out of his mind.
The truth was that while Enkrid understood the value of calculating gains, it wasn’t the kind of thing that suited his temperant.
"It sounds like it could be fun."
Enkrid answered.
The other person tilted their head in confusion, questioning what he ant by that.
Fun?
Why was that important?
Was he really willing to risk his life for sothing like that?
It was clear that their paths in life had been very different.
Enkrid felt a sense of exhilaration, like the joy of growth, as he moved toward tomorrow.
That very exhilaration had pushed him to wield his sword until the very mont of death, hadn’t it?
At least, that was how it was for Enkrid.
For him, the appearance of a strong opponent was a source of joy.
So, while his motivation to step forward and protect people and the monastery was certainly genuine, it also had a personal elent of interest.
Even though an unexpected opponent had appeared, it was this personal thrill that brought a smile to Enkrid’s face.
"So that’s why you’re smiling?"
The opponent asked.
"Yeah."
Enkrid nodded again.
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