BOOM!

Encrid swung Aker reflexively, cutting diagonally upward. In that fleeting instant, he saw Rem smile.

With an explosive crash, dust spread from between them in concentric rings. The shock wave knocked several onlookers flat on their backsides. Across their locked sword and axe, their eyes met.

Blue eyes and gray.

"You blocked that?"

There was something feral in Rem's smiling face as he asked. He radiated a violent air, as though he might tear out Encrid's throat with his teeth at any moment.

"Was I supposed to just take it?"

GRRRR.

As Encrid answered, his feet slid back a little. A stone caught beneath his heel shattered with a crack. Neither relaxed their strength in the slightest while they traded jabs.

Rem was inwardly impressed. That axe blow had been comparable to one of Oara's sword strikes. The technique differed, but the power behind it was the same.

In other words, a knight's strike.

And Encrid had blocked it. With a knight's strike of his own? No. Rem recognized the skill Encrid had employed in that split-second exchange. He had raised his sword to meet the force, redirected some of it with his sturdy wrists, then bent his knees and ankles to absorb the rest.

He had blocked Rem's axe, a blow powerful enough to be called a knight's strike, through a combination of a honed body and delicate technique. Normally, his wrists would have broken, the bones bursting through his skin. Instead, the strong tendons in his wrists and his armor of muscle had compensated for the flaws in his imperfect deflection.

This was more impressive than the trick of producing a knight's strike. In his current state, he wouldn't be easily overwhelmed even by that Ghoul from before. How could Rem not be impressed?

"Seriously, don't die on me."

Rem smiled again as he spoke, and his canines seemed longer than before.

Then the axe vanished from Encrid's sight. Eyes That See One Step Ahead, which had been active all along, had been thwarted.

If he panicked, he would be done for. That was the first lesson he had learned on the battlefield, on the brink of death. He held firm with boldness in his heart, and the heart of the beast beat.

Encrid held Aker upright. Heighten his senses until he could find a fine needle dropped on a sandy shore.

The sensory arts.

Intuition like a vivid blue blade found the axe. Upper left.

He drew his right foot halfway back and swung his sword upward. Sword and axe met before he could fully straighten either elbow.

CLANG!

Another deafening crash.

At that instant, Encrid turned his sword, attempting a winding strike, while Rem kicked out with his axe still pressed down. His foot flew like a javelin, striking at Encrid's belly like a spearhead with a burst of air.

BAM!

A solid hit would clearly smash his innards and everything else in one go. Once again, Encrid twisted aside by a hair's breadth. Instead, part of his armor burst apart. Armor made from demonic beast hide was no better than a rag before Rem's kick. Ordinary sword blows hadn't even scratched it, yet here it was, torn to pieces.

"Yahoo!"

Rem shouted, looking almost intoxicated. His axe became a streak of light and flew in.

Encrid reacted again. He unleashed the Heart of the Superhuman and brought down his sword. This was an art he had made his own by repeatedly training what he had learned.

Knocking a weapon aside.

He swung at an angle similar to his opponent's attack, striking it midway to alter its course. The technique combined the Flowing Sword and Heavy Sword, demanding delicate control.

CLANG!

Axe and sword met again, but this time the impact was weaker. The sensation left in Encrid's hands felt impossibly light. As he registered it, another blade flew in to replace the axe that had been heading for his neck.

WHOOSH!

Encrid threw his head back and saw a line slicing through the air where his neck had been. A dagger had appeared in Rem's left hand: a western dagger called a karambit.

He caught a glimpse of Rem's face behind the reverse-gripped dagger. The blade hid his mouth, but not his eyes. Their upturned corners suggested the smile on his face.

Stop, and he would die. The old Encrid, who closed his eyes before the fear of death, was gone. He brought his sword down without hesitation.

Connecting point to point, the descending sword became a line, then a White Thunderbolt.

"Hiya!"

With a battle cry bordering on a wild shriek, Rem swung his axe upward to meet the White Thunderbolt.

* * *

The result of the spar? Encrid lost.

But he hadn't simply lost. He had put up all the resistance he could.

"How was that?"

Wiping away sweat and dust and peeling hair off his face, Encrid answered.

"Not bad."

Win or lose, he was always confident. This had been a spar, not a fight to the death. He had learned something, too. No, he had seen something downright peculiar.

Why the hell did this crazy bastard have no windup?

"It's called the Feather Axe technique. A bit different from doing it with a toy."

Rem chuckled. The axe spinning in his hand looked light, but having faced it until moments ago, Encrid couldn't see it as merely that.

Calling the Lewis axe a toy would probably make its maker rather sad, but Rem looked delighted. Somehow, despite having beaten Encrid countless times, he seemed utterly drunk on this latest victory.

"That's right, I'm Rem the Hero."

"The greatest shaman? Oh, stop. You flatter me."

"Another round? Come at me all you like."

"Hahahaha! You feel safer with me around? Well, of course you do!"

"You can't learn the Feather Axe technique just by trying, you know. You'd have to learn spells first, so forget it. Learning spells would be useless for you."

That was how much he rattled on all by himself, hands on his hips. Encrid hadn't said a word, yet Rem was having the time of his life talking.

But why was he tilting his head so far back toward the sky?

"Lua."

"What?"

The Frog, who occasionally felt a shiver of exhilaration—no, quite often these days—answered Encrid's call.

"Where's the nearest temple?"

Encrid suspected that taking those spells into his body had broken something in Rem's head. He seemed far too excited. Perhaps he needed Audin-style treatment. A hammer to the head was precisely the remedy Rem needed most right now.

"Hahahaha!"

Rem was still laughing heartily.

Was beating him really that much fun? It was only natural for Encrid to wonder.

He wasn't trembling with humiliation over his defeat. He merely reviewed the fight, searching for things to learn. Just as he always did.

"Bwahahaha! All right, let's go again."

"Sure. Teach me a thing or two."

"Only a thing or two? I'll teach you twenty. Ahem."

Rem stuck his nose even higher in the air. Standing before him, you could practically see nothing but his chin. He normally seemed half-mad. Now he seemed completely mad.

They sparred three more times that day. The watching twins marveled as Encrid pressed his attacks to the very brink and rolled across the ground. Luagarne shivered with exhilaration, turning over what she would say to him.

Dunbachel watched Rem with a grave expression. She had a feeling his excitement was going to spill over onto her.

"Wait for me, you directionless bastard! I'm coming to slit your throat!"

Rem roared. Apparently, he hadn't recovered his spells just yesterday, so why he was only roaring about it now was a mystery.

Henri had thought the man wasn't quite right when he'd known him before, but now he was simply a crazy bastard. A lunatic who needed no further description.

"Captain, isn't Rem a little... dangerous?"

He sidled over to Encrid to ask, and Encrid answered with a question.

"Are you a noble, by any chance?"

"What? No."

If he were a noble, why would he be out here working as a hunter?

"Then you're fine."

Why would that make him fine?

"He doesn't usually bite unless you're a noble."

Henri frowned at Encrid's addition. He couldn't make any sense of it.

Encrid had too much on his mind and was simply saying whatever came to him. Rem's axe work was completely different from anything he had known.

'How did he do that?'

Even without a windup, the blows carried more power than the Heart of the Superhuman. He had said he'd recovered his spells, and now he was stronger and faster than usual. His eye for detail, everything, had improved.

Right, so he was like a knight who possessed Will. Encrid understood that. But what about the axe that flew in without any preparatory movement? That was what had thwarted Eyes That See One Step Ahead. It left him no room to turn the exchange into a game of moves and countermoves.

Thinking hard wouldn't explain everything. Even working backward from the results to infer the process wasn't easy. Could he reproduce Oara's swordsmanship simply because he'd seen it? This was no different. Nor could he copy Sinar's spiritual essence sword strikes merely by watching.

Still, after pondering and racking his brains, he gained a vague idea of the principle behind Rem's axe work.

He swung without thinking.

Encrid recognized it because it was the same approach as before.

'He doesn't think before he moves, so I can't see a line of attack.'

He struck, smashed, and shattered whatever he saw. Trusting in what? His own combat sense.

'The instant the impulse comes, his hand moves.'

His tremendous strength let him swing the axe in his hand like a twig, bringing it down before his opponent could react. Every axe blow worked that way. No, so did his hands and feet. His entire body was a weapon. Could learning spells alone make someone like that?

'Not a chance.'

There were all the hours spent conditioning his body, all the moments of mastering techniques, and the spells layered atop them. In other words, spells were tools that helped Rem do what he wanted.

What about Will? Will would be the same. Having determination wouldn't make everything one imagined come true. Ultimately, the body had to move for it to become motion, to become action.

Sitting there, Encrid added what he had learned from Rem to his earlier realization. Today's three spars wouldn't be the end. He could learn more, and those hours awaited him. The prospect delighted him so much he could die, and he broke into laughter.

"Hahaha."

He couldn't contain his joy and exhilaration and laughed aloud.

"Heheheh. Alley cat, I'm coming for you."

Beside him, Rem laughed with his back arched.

"Kurrrr."

Beside him, a thrilled Luagarne puffed out her cheeks.

"Nyahahaha."

The filthy Beastman next to them laughed because everyone else was laughing. She wasn't anxious anymore, nor did it seem Rem would do anything to her. All was well.

Watching them, Henri briefly wondered whether he was right to trust Encrid and embark on this venture.

'Is this really a good idea?'

He didn't know. The dice had already been cast anyway.

His laughter subsiding to a smile, Encrid inspected Aker's blade. Those brutal axe blows had left three chips in the edge of even this finest of fine swords. He would need to find a good whetstone and give it a thorough sharpening.

"By the way, was it all right to give that bow away?"

His excitement finally settled, Rem asked in passing. The bow Encrid had given Henri was not only valuable; it had been a gift.

"He saved my life. I'm sure the person who gave it to me would understand."

Encrid answered while oiling his sword with linseed oil.

Archery didn't suit him. He had no dreams of pursuing it, nor had he trained in it. It wasn't that he had no idea how to shoot a bow, but he had no need of one. Nothing could be better than giving it away in payment for his life like this.

Henri had saved his life, after all.

"So when are we leaving?"

"At dawn tomorrow."

After answering, Encrid washed, lay down, and slept. Following a sound night's sleep, he ate a hearty breakfast and packed emergency rations and other supplies.

Henri, who would stay behind with one Velopter, bowed his head. The mount he had spent his savings on felt like a symbol of good fortune. It had caught the scent of lucky fish and led him to Encrid, ultimately allowing him to save his life.

"It was good seeing you again."

"We'll see each other again, won't we?"

"What? Oh, yes. If things work out, yes, I'll have to visit Border Guard."

The former hunter had cut his hair short and now looked quite presentable.

"But why is Henri out here?"

Only when it was time to leave did Rem think to ask. Henri merely chuckled, while Encrid frankly explained his situation.

"A broken heart."

"Ah."

Rem nodded. He'd been dumped.

"... Captain, the widow dumping me was just what started it. After traveling around, I decided that setting up a trading company would be worthwhile."

Henri tried to elaborate, but no one listened. He was now the man who had found a new calling through the pain of heartbreak.

"We're off, then. You twins help Henri out."

The twins nodded. Rem looked at Ayul.

"Don't forget to let me know if he croaks."

Ayul addressed Encrid, standing behind Rem. Somewhat at a loss, he chose his words before answering.

"Does Rem look like someone who'd go off and die?"

"I'm off to have some fun."

Following Encrid's reply, Rem said his goodbye in an utterly casual tone. The feelings behind it were far from shallow, but both were cheerful. There was no sorrow, pain, or anguish. No anxiety about parting, either. They would meet again, and each would do what needed doing where they belonged. They shared that faith.

Ayul nodded and gave Rem a hug.

"I'm naming the baby myself."

"Pick something impressive."

"I will."

Was it friendship, love, or understanding? Encrid couldn't put a name to their relationship. Instead, he considered a more practical option. If things went wrong, they could always choose the next-best course.

"If it doesn't work out, come live in Border Guard."

"I have plenty to do in the West, too."

Ayul answered without a smile. As she said, there really would be plenty to do. First, they would have to solve the food shortage. They had burned everything to summon the Bird of Supplication.

"Let's go."

Rem set off first. Encrid, Luagarne, and Dunbachel followed.

It was time to return.

* * *

"What is all this?"

The Wing tribe's chieftain asked as he looked at the smoked ham, dried fruit, vegetables, and other food piled before him. The merchant who had transported it all this way answered, his armed guards behind him.

"Gifts from His Majesty, the august and wise King of Naurilia, and from the Roquefried trading company under Border Guard."

"Why?"

The merchant blinked. What did he mean, why? They'd sent it because they'd been told to. Getting all the way here had nearly killed him.

He answered with a disgruntled expression.

"General Encrid sent someone, didn't he?"

Encrid had entrusted letters to people traveling between the West and the continent, and Krang and Krais had taken care of his request themselves. He'd asked them to send some food, so they had. Of course, they had first considered all the circumstances.

Once the chieftain understood, he wept again. Perhaps he had become too prone to tears lately, but this was worth crying over. The situation warranted it.

Summer was passing, yet they were in no condition to resume their nomadic life. Hunger awaited them. People might even have starved to death. Sheep ate all the grass if they stayed in one place, so they would have to move, while also ensuring their grazing cattle had enough to eat.

If they failed to provide for them, they would have had to slaughter their sheep, cattle, and Velopters, knowing it would make the following year even harder. Now that was no longer necessary.

"His Majesty also sends word that he hopes to establish diplomatic relations through this gesture, and asks that you kindly accept."

"Let us do so."

The chieftain nodded through his tears. The merchant wondered why a grown man was crying so much.

One day, the chieftain would be buried in the sacred grounds, with the words "Chieftain of Tears" carved on his gravestone. But that lay in the very, very distant future.

And so, the chieftain wept again today.