Chapter 949 - Glad
The form of the shamanic power flowing from Rem's body raised its hackles and sharpened to a lethal point.
Emptying his core, it granted him a weightlessness that translated directly to blinding speed.
With it, even the dullest piece of metal became a razor-sharp blade.
Attached to that was a small, condensed mass that added crushing weight.
To be precise, it wasn't just raw weight; it was a highly sophisticated, tactical application of force.
It was a sense of balance that was difficult to put into words.
That was the only way to describe the feeling.
'Speed substitutes for raw force, and the mass provides the tactical impact.'
That was the conclusion Enkrid reached.
The two shamanic powers complemented and reinforced each other.
It was functionally identical to wielding two forms of Will simultaneously.
However, shamanic arts were fundamentally different from Will.
'Even if the roots and origins are the same...'
How it was wielded depended entirely on the user.
"Seriously, what the hell did you do in there?"
That was why Rem had asked that question during their spar.
Enkrid watched the shamanic arts Rem employed.
Even though Rem hadn't intentionally demonstrated the 'Formatting' stage to him, Enkrid instinctively perceived the entire flow of his energy.
'I can see it.'
The ability to see a split-second into the future was born from the insight to read an opponent's preparatory movements.
By layering Will over that, and further expanding his perception, he reached a level where he could read the opponent's raw momentum and preemptively counter it.
Enkrid had experienced both, burning them into his muscle memory through the endless repetition of 'today'.
But right now, he had stepped even further beyond that.
Was this how an explorer felt upon discovering an entirely new continent?
He could foresee Rem's movements, his momentum, everything.
Right before Rem even moved, Enkrid could see the precursor of his Will.
In physical terms, it was equivalent to seeing an opponent shift the direction of their toe, tense a specific muscle, or twitch a finger before attacking.
If all of those were physical precursors, the flow of Will was the ultimate precursor to both intent and action.
You could say he was looking directly at his opponent's intent.
Because of that, pinpointing the exact movement that would follow was laughably easy.
So, if he could do this, what else became possible?
'I also know what my opponent is looking at.'
If you know their movements and their intent beforehand, deceiving their eyes is child's play.
You can mask your own intent and drive your sword right into their blind spot.
'What you saw must have been similar to this, wasn't it?'
Enkrid recalled the blonde swordsman he had encountered in the Southern Demonic Realm.
Hadn't he been cut down by exactly that kind of swordsmanship?
It was a strike that flawlessly concealed not just movement and momentum, but intent itself—a strike with absolutely zero precursors.
All of these things only became visible when accompanied by absolute, pinpoint concentration.
Enkrid dispersed the Will he had focused into his eyes.
The explorer who discovered the new continent had spotted yet another new shadow veiled in the distant fog.
Therefore, he was not satisfied.
'I still have a long way to go.'
The blonde swordsman hadn't just shown him this one thing.
Everything he had demonstrated served as a series of milestones for Enkrid.
He was like a guide pointing the way toward a distant, uncharted frontier.
There was still a long road ahead of him.
No, he had already seen it.
Even after walking that entire path, he probably still wouldn't be able to call it the end.
That realization thrilled Enkrid.
It filled him with sheer ecstasy.
So much so that a natural smile spread across his face.
Boom!
The spinning disk Rem had thrown pierced straight through the body of the circling Black Bird.
The axe tearing through the empty sky would undoubtedly pivot and return to its original master.
The shamanic power extending from Rem was still tethered to his Spirit Weapon.
As expected, the axe cleaved right through the monster, scattered black blood across the sky, and carved a wide arc before returning to Rem's hand.
Catch.
"Gotcha," Rem grunted.
It might have looked simple on the outside, but having seen the flow of his shamanic power, Enkrid knew just how incredible a feat Rem had just pulled off.
Going out of his way to throw an axe at a target he could have easily hit with a sling was likely an extension of their earlier spar.
It was a form of training aimed at refining his skills and taking another step forward.
He probably only attempted it because he was absolutely confident he could kill it that way, too.
Rem's axe blade pressing close behind him sent a chilling sensation down the back of his neck.
He wasn't actually aiming at Enkrid, but the sheer presence of the weapon made it feel that way.
These people wouldn't stop chasing him.
They would follow him at a pace even faster than the one he set for himself.
He was as thrilled and delighted by the people watching his back as he was excited for the future that lay ahead.
"What, did my axe throw look that good to you?" Rem asked.
"He smells like an excited male," Dunbakel chimed in from the side.
Enkrid hadn't bothered to hide his emotions, so her nose picked it up instantly.
Had he wanted to hide it, he easily could have.
"That's a weird way to phrase it," Rem muttered.
Enkrid replied to him.
"There's still so much to learn."
Rem nodded a few times at those words.
"His sickness is acting up again. Hey, Smelly. Stop spouting nonsense and find the next target."
Rem knew Enkrid well.
He was perfectly used to him acting unhinged from time to time.
Of course, the same went for Dunbakel.
"Yeah, yeah."
Aside from the Black Bird, she had gathered the descriptions of several notorious monsters currently plaguing the West.
'What was the next one again?'
Had they said it was a scorpion that used magic spells?
She tracked the scent, distinguishing it from the rest.
Whenever Westerners reported a monster sighting in a specific area, they would head there and track it down.
Once the monster's location was pinpointed, they hopped onto the Vellopters and charged.
The target following the Black Bird was a scorpion monster that used teleportation magic.
The moment Enkrid laid eyes on the monster, he saw right through the mechanics of the spell it used.
Because his eyes had changed, the way he perceived the world had changed as well.
'It's just an empty shell.'
To be precise, the only thing filling the shell was a formless power similar to Will.
Since it was a monster, it would be demonic energy, not Will.
It had entirely replaced its own flesh and blood with demonic energy, leaving only its carapace.
As a result, its body, freed from the physical laws of the world, functioned exactly like the spell it was bound to.
'It's not teleportation; it's just running at high speeds while cloaked.'
The bastard's carapace possessed properties that made it highly adept at reflecting sunlight to conceal itself.
You could call it a monster that deceived human eyes through active camouflage and high-speed movement.
The scorpion monster cloaked itself and bolted the moment it spotted the three of them, but it couldn't escape Dunbakel's nose.
Dunbakel's scimitar shattered the carapace.
Pivoting on her left foot, the blade she brought crashing down looked like a falling thunderbolt.
CRASH! CRUNCH!
The thunderbolt physically distorted the space around it.
With a deafening roar, a fissure erupted in the empty air where the blade struck, exactly like shattering glass.
It was the visual manifestation of the camouflaged shell breaking apart.
The formless vapor that had filled the cracked shell turned into thick black smoke and poured out.
With a violent hiss, the demonic energy that had replaced its flesh and blood turned to smoke and dissipated.
It was a monster that functioned no differently from an evil spirit.
Enkrid slashed at the smoke pouring from the scorpion monster.
As Night Stroll cleaved the vapor, it scattered and vanished completely.
"Ah, so that's how you actually kill it," Dunbakel nodded.
The group of Western warriors who had previously encountered this monster claimed it was a beast that never disappeared no matter how many times they killed it.
Naturally.
The bastard's shell was a fake.
It was a creature closer to an evil spirit.
Enkrid had sliced the true essence of the evil spirit.
Spell Assassination.
Something he had previously done purely by instinct, he could now execute while consciously 'seeing' it.
"Next. Let's go."
Besides, using this new perception was incredibly fun.
The third target was a mutated Rock Snail.
Its shell resembled the bark of a tree, and wings were sprouting from its back, slowly altering its appearance to resemble a dragon.
It was a monster that had moved past being a unique variant and become a full-blown mutation.
Because it had absorbed too much of Silence's influence, it was slowly transforming into something similar to the dragons they had seen in the Demonic Realm's forest.
Enkrid's blade cleaved right through the bastard's shell.
Night Stroll flaunted its terrifying capabilities to the fullest.
He pivoted on his left foot, twisting his body to add crushing momentum.
It was a heavy, blindingly fast sword strike that dropped vertically like an executioner's block.
The shell, which should have easily shrugged off an ordinary blade, was sliced open as cleanly as a ripe potato.
Pale, sickly flesh and black blood poured from the mutated Rock Snail's body.
"Man, that is brutal," Rem muttered, watching the spectacle.
For some reason, Enkrid's sword strikes seemed to grow more vicious every time he used them.
And so, they spent three full days doing nothing but hunting monsters.
"They're monsters. Every single one of them is a monster."
Badukbeom was intimately familiar with the monsters that had been tormenting his Twelve Tribes.
There was a colony made up entirely of Ratmen, and two massive Spiral Worms with spikes erupting from their backs.
Every single one of them was a nightmare to kill, causing endless headaches for his people.
They had simply been enduring the casualties and trying to hold out.
The Ratman colony in particular was endlessly multiplying its numbers, as if it planned to build an entire monster city right there.
In fact, once the gathering at Elder Bear concluded, he had fully intended to rally every warrior from his twelve tribes and launch a massive assault on them.
He planned to use that victory to prove the absolute strength of his forces.
The Spiral Worms were equally infuriating.
How were they supposed to drag a bastard that traveled exclusively underground up to the surface to fight it?
Yet, those three resolved all of it.
"Lead the way."
Badukbeom became the guide to hunt down those two monsters, and he watched the three beings—hailed as monsters and walking calamities themselves—annihilate the monster hordes.
Rem personally lopped off the heads of the five Ratmen acting as the leaders of the colony.
The other two slaughtered every last Ratman that remained.
The dark blue blade that cleaved through everything in its path looked like a scythe wielded by the Grim Reaper.
And that Reaper simply moved with a completely deadpan expression, his dark green cape fluttering behind him.
'Heavens above.'
Badukbeom felt a profound sense of awe.
That alone would have been enough, but watching them handle the other monsters was a sight he could barely believe even with his own eyes.
The moment the Spiral Worm poked its head above ground, a single line of light shot horizontally across its body like a lightning bolt, cleanly bifurcating it.
The distance to the worm had been over fifty paces, yet that gap was erased in an instant.
It was the work of the beastkin who had transformed into a streak of white light.
Badukbeom's eyes couldn't possibly track the motion of her kicking off the ground, drawing her scimitar, and swinging it.
He only saw the dead monster left in her wake.
Black blood pooled across the dry earth.
Having witnessed all of this, a completely shell-shocked Badukbeom was jolted back to reality on their way back to camp.
"We still have training left?"
On the way back from eradicating the monsters, Enkrid casually asked if he hadn't learned anything from watching them fight, and suggested they finish their remaining training for the day.
Was this bastard actually a demon?
An emissary of the Demonic Realm who arrived after Silence died?
A devil?
The incarnation of an evil Divine General?
"Don't we still have today's spar left to do?" Enkrid asked again, his tone completely nonchalant.
Badukbeom's eyes clouded over with pure despair.
"I suppose we do."
"I'm glad you're excited about it."
Enkrid's casual, completely unbothered response twisted Badukbeom's stomach into knots, but if you lacked the strength to rebel, wasn't it the nature of a Western warrior to submit and follow?
Furthermore, it wasn't as if this was an unjust endeavor.
Enkrid put him through a hellish crash course.
He had to.
Hadn't Black Wing specifically requested he be treated as a 'special class' warrior?
And so, Enkrid raised his sword for Badukbeom's sake.
This was all for the future of the West.
"I'm glad."
Black Wing revealed his true feelings as he watched the spectacle.
As twilight descended upon them, the only person suffering in this place was Badukbeom.
"I would like to rest today," Badukbeom groaned, unable to maintain a clear grip on his fading consciousness.
"Your spirit is still lacking discipline."
It was an excuse that didn't work on Enkrid in the slightest.
For over ten days, Badukbeom cultivated an unwavering spirit by rolling endlessly in the dirt.
He cursed Black Wing to high heaven, and then eventually became true comrades-in-arms with him.
Because he wasn't the only one rolling in the dirt.
Black Wing was getting his ass kicked just as much.
Even though Badukbeom had already been a so-called semi-knight, he broke through one of his absolute limits in less than a fortnight.
Only then did Enkrid take Rem and Dunbakel and finally leave the West.
The merchant caravan, now joined by Leona and Juol, moved with them.
"What we achieved this time is worth ten times everything we've gained from trading with the West up until now."
Those were Leona's words.
She was likely calculating the astronomical profits they would reap in the future.
"Well, we'll have to run until our feet bleed from here on out, but tell Krais for me: the scale of trade with the West is about to increase tenfold."
"I will."
They chatted about this and that as they made their way back.
They had fully savored the cheers and hospitality of the Westerners.
"If you ever need us, call upon us anytime."
Westerners do not make empty promises.
Enkrid had received massive help from them in the past, but this time was on an entirely different level.
Even though Rem was at the center of it, everyone knew it was largely thanks to Enkrid.
"We will stand with you in your grand endeavor."
That was how they were seen off.
Through the brief reverie, a voice from reality pulled him back.
"Let's spar. Barehanded, light contact."
It was Rem, pestering Enkrid again.
"Count me in."
Dunbakel chimed in as well.
Enkrid didn't refuse.
He shared everything he had realized.
Rem was a genius at grasping concepts efficiently.
He immediately figured out the direction he needed to take.
"There's a saying in the West. That there are times when shamanic power simply resides in your body naturally, even if you do nothing. I thought that was what you guys called Uske. It seems I was wrong."
After finishing a few spars, Rem commandeered one of the returning carriages, locked himself inside, and spent more than half the day in deep meditation.
Dunbakel wasn't as quick to grasp the technical nuances as Rem, but her beastkin instincts were unparalleled.
"You're saying the Will changes, right? I already know that."
Furthermore, Induless wasn't a foreign concept to her.
It was an inherent trait of beastkin.
When their physical bodies transformed, their momentum changed, and the energy housed within them changed as well.
What if she could trigger that change at will?
Her next objective was crystal clear.
Dunbakel also grew quiet after that realization.
Just as they were about to finally cross the border out of the West.
"Let's have a talk!"
A giant with arms and legs like tree trunks blocked their path.
Rem stepped out of the carriage, ready to throw his axe, but stopped when Enkrid placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We leaving him alone?"
Seeing the gesture, Dunbakel asked.
The beastkin had also been preparing to launch herself at the giant but held back.
Enkrid nodded.
Out of habit, he had already read the opponent's intent.
Unless that giant was at the level of the blonde swordsman he met in the Southern Demonic Realm, he had absolutely zero intention of fighting them right now.
Which meant he didn't appear to possess any technique capable of concealing his true intent.
"Let me ask a favor of you!"
The giant spoke.
No, he roared.
Their ears rang painfully from the sheer volume.
***
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