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‘We spoke of Knights and dreams.’

The fact that he wasn’t met with shock or ridicule was refreshing.

Regardless, that wasn’t the main issue. He had said his piece and been rejected. Now, it was time to continue with his tasks.

Encrid returned to the tent and stood in front of Rem.

“What is it?”

“We need to continue.”

He was asking Rem to continue teaching him the skills. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just about finishing what they’d started.

‘This guy is definitely crazy.’

Watching his Platoon leader, Rem thought to himself.

Is this normal?

Even Rem understood that Encrid couldn’t feel anything. Yet, Encrid was willing to continue. He never seemed to get bored or frustrated. Concepts like despair and suffering seemed alien to him.

Still, out of curiosity, Rem asked, “Aren’t you tired of this?”

“Hmm?”

Seeing the confused look in Encrid’s eyes, Rem had nothing more to say. “Alright, let’s do it. I had nothing else to do anyway.”

At Rem’s words, Andrew’s expression brightened.

Since Rem started following their Platoon leader, Andrew had felt peace, love, life, and hope.

“Life is full of beauty.”

“Snap out of it.”

Mac calmed Andrew down.

Enri had left. Or rather, he had joined a unit transporting the wounded and hadn’t returned since.

Normally, it would be unheard of for a member of the “Madmen Platoon” to leave like that.

But it was a special privilege granted for his contributions to their recent victory.

Encrid, who respected Enri’s choice, had nodded approvingly and made sure the privilege was granted.

Not everyone could live a life constantly on the edge, always ready for battle.

Still, Enri’s absence was felt.

Even if he was exempt from meal duty and guard shifts, he couldn’t avoid all scouting missions.

So, as part of a scouting mission, and on Krais’s strong insistence, they explored an enemy position.

Without Enri, even finding their way was a challenge.

Encrid was no pathfinder, but he had a decent sense of direction.

Still, it wasn’t the same as having a skilled guide like Enri.

Asking another platoon member to lead?

Encrid’s navigational skills were exceptional compared to others in the platoon.

“I may not be good at finding paths, but I’m good at finding beasts and monsters. How about we take this chance to raid a monster’s nest?”

This was Rem’s suggestion, as he pondered new practical experiences once the skills of the “Heart of the Beast” were passed down. Could they find the way? That wasn’t certain, but they weren’t concerned.

“If we go, we’ll find something.”

This was Ragna, a guy who couldn’t find his way if his life depended on it.

“We just follow the calling of destiny.”

Audin was just as dangerous in his own way. Talking about a divine calling often meant he’d act unpredictably.

Jaxon, though silent, didn’t seem willing to lead them and find the way.

If it came down to it, Jaxon would likely disappear rather than try to guide them.

Mac remained, but even Mac wasn’t as reliable as Encrid.

Nonetheless, the “Madmen Platoon” managed to scout the enemy position.

Even though the area had already been scoured by their scouting team, Krais still managed to fill his pockets with surprising skill.

“Indeed.”

“Right.”

“Oh, jewels.”

Muttering to himself, Krais found a bag of Krona, a dagger encrusted with gems, and other items. While there were no particularly valuable treasures, there were plenty of items that could be traded for Krona.

“Some soldiers bury valuables before going into battle.” Krais noted.

Some soldiers do bury valuable items before battle, saying things like, “If I die, dig this up and take it to my family.”

Of course, if both the soldier and the friend who was told to retrieve the items die, it becomes pointless.

No one goes into battle expecting complete annihilation.

Krais was especially skilled at finding these hidden items.

Even though the area had already been checked by their scouting team, Krais consistently found things by digging around the beds, near the remnants of the camp, or by trees.

“How do you find all this stuff?”

Encrid asked with genuine curiosity. He was standing by, keeping watch, but there was nothing to watch for, so he was curious.

“What else? I sniff out the scent of Krona. Look at that nose of his, doesn’t it resemble a coin?” Rem chimed in, equally bored.

It’s hard to believe a person’s nose, especially one as handsome as Krais’s, could resemble a coin.

Krais ignored Rem’s nonsensical comment, knowing that arguing would only put him at a disadvantage. He let it go in one ear and out the other.

Andrew could learn a thing or two from him.

“The answer comes quickly if you think about it.”

Krais tapped his temple with his right index finger as he spoke.

At some point, he had prepared a leather backpack, which was now bulging with items.

“Thinking?”

Encrid asked again, genuinely curious. It was also a way to clear his mind.

“If I were to hide something, where would I hide it, especially if the camp was destroyed and I was the only survivor? Humans can’t easily let go of hope, right? So, if the camp was destroyed, and I needed to find my belongings, where would I hide them?”

“…A place you can recognize at a glance.”

“Yes, like this distinct branch. It’s not far from the camp, and it’s easy to stop by during a retreat, isn’t it?”

It made sense.

“Most importantly,” Krais continued, his eyes sparkling with the same passionate intensity as before, “the more valuable something is, the more you want to hide it well.”

This guy’s brain really worked in extraordinary ways.

Of course, once you know the answer, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.

But predicting and thinking about all this before even starting is impressive.

“Still planning to open that salon?”

“Why do you think I’m working so hard? I plan to open a salon in my later years, spend nights telling silly jokes, and rake in Krona.”

It seemed like a crude dream, but Krais was serious.

He seemed prepared to risk almost anything, even his life, for this goal.

Encrid couldn’t mock others’ dreams, especially since his own felt equally unattainable.

Dreaming of becoming a Knight seemed less realistic than opening a salon and earning Krona.

So, there were no criticisms, no scorn, no laughter.

It was the same for Enri’s dream of marrying a florist’s widow, having children, and living a peaceful life.

Becoming a Knight.

Suddenly, Encrid felt excited. It seemed like he was gradually moving closer to the dream he had longed for.

He felt a thrill and a wave of emotion wash over him.

Yes, he’s on the path.

He’s getting closer, even if just by crawling half a step.

So, wait, a faded and tattered dream. I will stand by your side and walk with you.

“Alright, we’re done!”

Krais handed Encrid two throwing knives with thin blades after rummaging through a few more spots.

“Take these. They’re nothing special.”

Encrid wondered why he was being given these.

“Are you here to clean up after ‘Big Eyes’?”

Barely ten seconds later, Rem spoke up angrily.

He probably wanted Encrid to block something for him.

“Shall we spar when we get back?”

It was a regular occurrence now, a way to calm him down.

Returning to the unit meant more training.

It was the same after the meeting with the Battalion Commander.

A continuous cycle of unchanging training.

The next day, Encrid suddenly started swinging his sword after practicing the Isolation Technique.

‘Focus.’

Focusing all his senses entirely on his sword.

It was the same as usual, yet different.

How could every day be the same? Encrid didn’t realize it, but he was no longer the same as when he had only a meager talent.

There were many things that had compensated for his lack of talent.

Experience, new skills learned.

The Heart of the Beast, Focus Point, the Sense of the Blade, the Isolation Technique.

And the time spent training afterward.

The intensity of that time was twice as strong as before.

Encrid immersed himself in that time.

At some point, his vision blurred, and his pupils dilated, but his sword swings became sharper, and his steps quicker.

‘Frog, Mitch Hurrier, battlefield.’

As he practiced alone, reflecting and pondering, everything began to blur.

Heart, beast, brute strength, combat, battlefield, contemplation, reflection.

Everything faded into the background, leaving only himself and his sword in the world.

Only vague afterimages and a few stray thoughts remained.

He continued to swing his sword fiercely. His recovered right wrist swung more solidly than before.

Was this the effect of divine power, or was it the efficacy of the medicine given by the Fairy Company Commander?

That didn’t matter.

Stray thoughts surfaced and then blurred, disappearing along with everything else.

Encrid felt as if he were watching his own body from outside himself.

A surreal feeling of separation, as if he were detached from his own body.

In this state, he saw his sword.

He slashed, thrust, cut, and pulled.

A soft crunching sound came from his feet as he stepped on the gravel.

As he changed his stance, the direction of his sword changed, and his position shifted.

Only the trajectory of the sword remained in Encrid’s vision.

Dots and lines connecting those dots.

The shaking blade, the heavy strike, the tip of the sword piercing like a flash, swinging as planned, constricting the opponent, and spinning half a turn with his arm swinging like a whip.

A loud sound of the sword slicing through the air echoed.

For those who knew the previous Encrid, especially those who knew his beginnings, this would be a surprising scene.

Despite all the time spent swinging his sword, he had always been stuck in a similar place.

A broken scarecrow with only the will to move forward.

Unable to stand but still struggling to move.

That scarecrow was now standing on its own feet.

‘I’ve improved a lot.’

Rem, standing outside the tent, was genuinely impressed. When had Encrid learned to lose himself in his sword, to become so immersed?

When had he learned to stand on his own like this?

The broken scarecrow was gone.

Sitting down with his chin resting on his hands, Rem felt a swell of emotion. When had he improved so much?

Beside him, Ragna also stepped out of the tent. The sound of the sword cutting through the air told Ragna that his Platoon leader’s swordsmanship had matured.

He had already experienced it through their sparring, but seeing Encrid immersed in his sword practice like this stirred something within him.

It felt as if a fire had been lit in his chest.

His motivation surged.

Caught up in the moment, Ragna quietly drew his sword.

With a soft sound, he began to swing his sword on the side.

Audin, too, joined in.

‘He has built his body well.’

What kind of skill does it take to move your body exactly as you wish?

It requires training that pushes you to explore, recognize, and move your body, to feel pain and push beyond your limits.

Pushing boundaries—that was the essence of the Isolation Technique.

The person who had benefited most from this technique, once only imagined in his mind, was now standing right in front of him.

His joints were now supple.

He would no longer injure his wrist as he once did from similar shocks.

Recently, he has focused on joint training.

‘Lord, your servant expresses joy.’

It was rare to feel pure joy from watching someone else, and that rarity made the joy even greater.

Jaxon felt a strange sensation.

‘It was the right choice.’

Teaching him the skills and staying here.

Even though his actions weren’t driven by a calculation of gains and losses, he had no regrets.

At one point, he had thought staying here was a waste of time.

But seeing his Platoon leader now, he had none of those thoughts, not even a little.

Esther, resting her chin on her paws, watched Encrid from one side.

Magic and spells are a path to becoming an explorer of new worlds.

The joy and exhilaration gained from this cannot be compared to anything else.

That is why she walked the path of spells.

The joy of exploration, the thrill of discovering something new, and the satisfaction of building her world atop it all.

These are the components that make up her being. The driving force that compels her to seek out magic and build a world of spells.

So, why is this man swinging his sword in the air like that?

The sight of Encrid reminded her of herself, lost in the world of spells.

Even though her knowledge of swordsmanship was basic, she could clearly sense that this man’s skill was not ordinary.

So, the thought arose.

‘What drives you to move like that?’

Pure curiosity, a spell, a researcher’s and an explorer’s curiosity.

For Esther, this was a surprising change.

She had spent her life delving into spells while ignoring everything else, resulting in her cursed body.

Seeing herself showing interest in a person, Esther was both surprised and delighted.

New experiences were invigorating for her.

This emotion was also new.

Soon, Encrid’s sword came to a stop.

He stood there, breathing heavily, sweat running down his body.

Esther moved, carrying a cloth in her mouth as she lightly hopped over to him.

When she handed it to him, Encrid, staring blankly into the air, took it and spoke.

“Thank you, Esther.”

Nyaa—ah.

No need to mention it.

Encrid wiped the sweat off with the cloth and thought how warm the weather was.

The feeling of comfort—was it because of the weather?

Or was it because he had focused solely on his sword without any other thoughts?

It felt like the weight pressing on his chest had lifted.

Feeling lighter, he called out.

“Rem.”

He had glimpsed the edge of the technique, the Heart of the Beast.

If he could see it, he needed to grasp it.

He could then internalize it.

Whether it would work as intended was something to be discovered by trying.

“Let’s do it again.”

It felt like an ordinary day, but no day is ever the same.

That was an obvious truth.

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