Two Giants stood before him.

Encrid walked forward.

Jiba, Geomnarae, the woman who traded jokes with him, Hira, Rem, Ayul. The things the westerners had shown him, the jokes they had shared.

They came to mind as he walked.

Were they worth protecting? He thought so.

"I'll chew you all up!"

The Giant's shout burst forth like thunder. Encrid neither stopped walking nor took his eyes off the two Giants.

Could he gauge their skill perfectly just by looking? No.

Then did he think he would lose? No. Absolutely not.

Encrid did not feel he would lose. Not in the slightest.

The tribespeople called these two, the best fighters among the Giants, monsters. Some westerners showed fear when speaking of them; others forced themselves to muster courage.

Encrid felt their eyes on him. Their gazes, their worry, touched his back. He could feel it.

The Giants remained before his eyes, filling his vision. They kept him from seeing the rest of the West properly.

"It's dangerous to go alone!"

The westerner who had shown him hostility—or, more precisely, who loved Jiba's mother—shouted from behind.

Was it? Was it dangerous?

He did not know.

He only felt he could do it, and wanted to.

"One isn't enough!"

The Giant spoke as it looked at Encrid, treating him as nothing but food. He was walking toward them wearing a sword, and they still saw food? They had no eye for an opponent at all.

Encrid raised his head and looked into its eyes. He saw nothing but hunger and greed. It was no different from a beast.

He might as well call it a monster.

CLICK.

He released the scabbard's catch with his thumb and drew Aker. The blade revealed itself in the gentle sunlight.

"Stay out of this."

Encrid was speaking to Rem, who was following him. Rem frowned.

"Why bother?"

Why insist on doing it alone?

"I think the stronger, better fighter should step forward."

Rather than answer why he was bothering, Encrid offered a different reply. A firm declaration of intent.

"... Fucking ridiculous. Seriously."

Rem muttered. It was true that Encrid was ahead of him now.

Both Giants had reddish skin. Encrid wondered what color their blood would be.

He kept approaching, then stopped at a spot where a swing of a Giant's club could beat him to death.

Encrid had not neglected his training after the battle in Oara. Rem had been beside him as a sparring partner, and Luagarne had helped. Sometimes Dunbachel had sparred with him, too.

He had carried on as always, repeating the same things. Training and conditioning.

As time blended all of it together, a small flower bud had formed within him.

What he had learned from the knight Oara, what she had left behind, the fruits of all his repetition—he brought them together.

One by one, the bud's petals stretched open.

"Only two of you?"

Encrid raised his sword as he asked.

There were people who found joy in peace.

And there were things that shattered that peace.

Those things stood before Encrid now.

Things that shattered peace, that threatened the West, its people, their lives.

* * *

Luagarne found herself gripping the hilt of her Loop Sword.

'What is this?'

Encrid was the same as before. No, he wasn't.

He swung his sword in a long downward stroke. At empty air. No—the top of a Giant's foot appeared where the sword reached.

The Giant had abruptly moved to kick him.

In other words, he had swung in advance at the spot where its foot would go. A feat made possible by reading its movements and the shifting of its muscles.

WHOOSH, RIIIP!

Aker's blade smoothly sliced across the top of the Giant's foot, cutting and shaving as it passed.

The Giant hammered a fist down at the evading Encrid.

Encrid moved sideways with the Tree Frog Step. He seemed to shift his weight left, then flung himself right.

BOOM!

The fist struck empty ground. The earth shook, dust rose, and dirt and stones flew in every direction.

"You little..."

The difference in their level was clear.

Giants knew nothing of practice, conditioning, or effort. They were born different.

A Giant that had survived this long and still swaggered about had the strength to back it up.

The heavy fist changed the terrain where it struck. Beyond the crater, a thin line cut through the rising dust.

Luagarne narrowed her eyes.

The line curved?

A curved line traced a thread through the air.

The Frog's eyes discerned what it was.

Aker. Encrid. The sword he wielded. Something that held Oara's swordplay within it, too.

The line drawn by those long, unbroken sword strokes sliced across the Giant's forearm, shin, and waist.

SPURT!

Blood gushed from a deep cut near the Giant's waist. Its covering of fur was useless.

Aker was sharp, and its wielder commanded Will.

The dust still hung in the air, but Encrid was easy to find within it.

Two blue lights shone.

Their blue-eyed owner stepped onto the Giant's foot, kicked off its knee, and shot upward.

"Graaah!"

With a battle cry that sounded like a scream, the Giant flailed its hands in front of itself. It had even dropped its club.

"I'll help!"

The other Giant charged in, swinging an open palm. The Giant with the slashed waist clapped both hands together at Encrid as he climbed past its chest.

CRACK!

Of course, it missed. Its hands, swung as though swatting a flying insect, clapped together. The palm of the other Giant, charging in from the side to help, struck its companion's chest.

BOOM!

"Aagh!"

The Giant screamed.

Encrid had already stepped on its shoulder and vaulted behind it.

He had not merely vaulted over. As he crossed the Giant, he drew his gladius and dragged it down its back as though scoring a wall.

GRRRRRK!

"Aaaaagh!"

The Giant screamed again and again. Purple blood streamed from its waist, legs, forearm, and back.

Dropping one knee to the ground, it flailed its hands in front and behind.

The would-be helper gripped its club with both hands and swung diagonally down behind its companion.

WHOOOM!

The gust swept the dust away. Encrid was already gone.

The club swept through empty air again. With a wet puncturing sound, the kneeling Giant acquired a new nose, jutting from the center of its nasal bone.

That nose was named Aker.

Encrid pulled out the sword that had pierced through its face from beneath its jaw. It tore free with a bone-breaking crunch, blood flowing after it.

Purple blood poured from the Giant's face as its body tipped forward.

THUD.

One of them collapsed headfirst into the ground, forehead striking first.

It was the same posture Jiba's mother had taken, but she had been expressing gratitude. This one was simply a corpse.

"What are you?!"

The remaining Giant shouted.

Was this an opponent who warranted conversation?

No.

Encrid kept swinging his sword.

As a Frog, Luagarne did not sweat. Instead, her tongue kept moving and her eyes darted about.

'A knight?'

No. But even searching through everything she had ever seen or heard, she had never encountered this before.

'He isn't a knight.'

If she had to place him, perhaps somewhere between a knight and a proto knight.

Or should she call him the strongest proto knight on the continent?

He was not a proto knight, yet he was not a knight either.

He could not use Will whenever he wished, but whenever it was needed, a sword stroke forged from willpower burst forth without fail.

It had happened just now. His footwork had changed speed when he dodged the Giant's club. The stab that followed had changed speed as well.

It resembled the stab he had used to kill the Ghoul before. The Giant had died without even a chance to think of dodging.

The remaining Giant grew frightened. Its eyes darted as it spoke.

"Humans actually taste bad to me!"

The three Giants they had met before knew how to use their heads. This one did not.

It only spouted nonsense.

"I won't eat you. I'm going! I'll go right now!"

People on the continent sometimes said Giants were stupid, but if they truly were dull-witted, they would never have survived this long.

It was not that giants as a race were stupid. This particular one was simply remarkably unintelligent.

Encrid let his arm hang as he watched the Giant, its wrist half severed.

To Luagarne, he looked to be preparing a final strike. To the Giant, he merely looked off guard.

"You believe me? Thank you. I have lots of treasure. I'll give you treasure."

It crept two steps closer as it spoke.

Two steps from a Giant should have been called strides, but the ridiculous way it shuffled along with its soles against the ground, watching his reaction, made it look as though it were creeping.

After gauging his reaction, it suddenly swung its club.

Encrid swung his sword at the same time.

Into the continuous sword strokes, he mixed the Heavy Sword Technique. His foot lifted, and his body glided forward.

Only Rem recognized every movement. That was the caliber of the strike.

His advancing body became a line, and the curve his sword traced became a blade that would cut anything.

CRRRUNCH!

The sword passed through muscle, bone, and nerves.

Once again, the club struck an empty spot with a thud.

"Grrrk."

With most of its organs sliced and a cut more than a handspan deep running from chest to belly, foaming at the mouth was more natural than speaking.

Even so, the Giant's vitality was astonishing. It kicked backward to the very end.

Encrid met it with his sword-holding fist.

BANG!

CRUNCH!

Bone burst through the skin atop its foot. Blood spattered again.

And the Giant died.

Silence, stillness, settled over them.

Encrid nonchalantly wiped his blades on the dead Giant's fur clothing. Purple blood covered everything around him.

Sunshade clouds filled the sky, but even on a day like this, they did not block all the sunlight.

As if on cue, the clouds parted. Light poured down.

Sunlight more brilliant than ever.

Watching, the chieftain was close to tears.

In truth, the largest tribe in the West had been on the brink of ruin. Despair had come under many names.

A foreign mage. A curse. Giants.

Even with the curse gone, he had not been able to rest easy. The Giants remained.

But now those Giants were dead.

They had been the stone crushing his tribe, killing and eating its people.

The stonemason who had broken that stone turned in the light. No—he turned, then turned again, showing them his back.

His gaze went to the land of the West.

"Now I can see it."

He spoke as he gazed at the horizon.

Beyond the beautiful plains, that unbroken line was breathtaking.

The chieftain wept. Holding back tears was not the western way.

"Welcome the great warrior."

The words burst from the chieftain, overflowing with emotion. The highest praise for the man who had saved his tribe.

"Welcome the warrior!"

Someone echoed the chieftain's cry.

Hira, who had awakened and come to watch, stood with her mouth hanging open.

His fight with the twins had surprised her, but what was this?

He had crossed the line. He was a monster in skill and ability.

The man Rem had brought had cut down the threat to her tribe. That simple fact sent a shiver through her.

"Ahhh."

Hira let out an elated moan. The thrill resembled what she felt during a spirit's descent.

Some of the shamans shivered.

The warriors who defended the West clenched their fists.

Geomnarae knew Rem's abilities, and so he knew Rem could never handle both Giants alone. That was why he had put armor on his still-unhealed body, gathered his totems, and come outside.

Yet there stood a man who had sliced and cut down both Giants alone, without even fighting alongside Rem.

"He's not just a little better than that bastard Rem."

Geomnarae muttered. It was no small difference. The gap was unmistakable.

Of course, he said that because he did not know Rem's current abilities.

But Rem's reaction was much the same.

'I'm starting to feel a little rushed.'

He did not mind losing to Encrid.

But not like this.

He needed his spells.

Encrid was stepping into unknown lands, advancing with his sword as a walking stick.

Rem had no intention of merely watching.

And so the Hero who had ended the threat to the tribe with his sword turned back from the horizon and made a request.

"Some water to wash with."

The Giant blood felt thoroughly unpleasant.

"Our savior!"

Someone shouted.

Fervor, excitement, all of it swept over the entire tribe.

It burned hot.

"Well, now. That's enough to make the dawn bird sing."

Geomnarae added his remark as he watched.

The dawn bird never sang. It was a bird that moved with the sun in its wake.

To make that dawn bird sing meant something astonishing in the best of ways.

Geomnarae sank to the ground. In truth, he did not even have the strength to stand. Then a quiet worry crept in.

'I asked him to spar.'

Perhaps he should not have done that.