They had enough strength to handle monsters without concern.

The foundation of the Middle Blade Style lay in weight and force.

"Just press down with power."

"Crush it with strength."

"Close the distance and strike hard."

"Put your weight into it."

"Make it so they can't even think of dodging."

These were words Ragna often said—whether facing spears, shields, or other obstacles. Most of his answers to various combat scenarios boiled down to the same principle.

The Straight Blade Style, however, was a bit different.

"Refine the form, and corner your opponent with your intent."

Lua Gharne taught the essentials first. She built upon the fundamentals later with additional details—a remarkably efficient teaching method.

There was a saying that Frokk sometimes made the best swordsmanship teacher. Enkrid had heard it countless times.

‘It’s hard not to compare.’

The gap between what Lua Gharne taught and what he learned from his platoon was undeniable. That didn't mean the platoon’s teachings were bad. In fact, for Enkrid, their methods suited him better. Even if rolling in the dirt was painful, it was easier for him.

‘Rough but straightforward.’

It was a moment of realization—that he had grown used to learning through grueling, direct experiences.

Still, Lua Gharne was a Frokk who knew how to teach properly.

And Enkrid knew how to learn.

He gave it his all.

If there was one thing different from before…

‘I can keep up.’

There was a time when no matter how much he listened or struggled, he couldn’t do anything with what he learned. But that time was now firmly in the past.

The Isolation Technique, in the end, was an art of complete bodily control. It demanded mastery over every fiber of muscle.

To that, he added the sensitivity of the blade, the pinpoint focus of One Point, and the courage and composure granted by the Heart of the Beast.

He realized something anew.

‘These four are the core of my talent.’

It was something he had earned through effort, nourished by the people around him.

By chewing on, savoring, tearing apart, and delving into the nutrients they provided him, he had built his present self.

It was thanks to those repeated days that he could now follow Frokk's teachings.

That didn’t mean he was a genius—just that he was better than before.

Lua Gharne already knew Enkrid’s lackluster talent. She neither grew bored nor surprised by it. She remained calm and steady, teaching him diligently.

In between lessons, she often shared knowledge and stories about swords.

Lua Gharne knew much.

“There’s a saying: The best for a beginner to learn is the Swift Blade, but the best to counter a beginner is the Straight Blade.”

The Swift Blade focused on speed, making it easy to pick up. Against a weaker opponent, the Straight Blade would win ninety-eight out of a hundred times.

Then, what was best when facing a stronger opponent?

“The Middle Blade and Flexible Blade have the advantage. If the opponent is a careless fool, the Swift Blade works well. If they’re cowardly and overly cautious, the Straight Blade is great. But if I had to pick, I’d say the Illusory Blade is the most effective.”

A blade that deceives and bewilders the opponent.

Lua Gharne explained that while all five forms of swordsmanship had their strengths, there was no definitive answer.

After all, what in life ever had a single, fixed solution?

Her words, derived from her temperament, ideology, and experience, underscored one thing: the person wielding the sword mattered more than the swordsmanship itself.

In conclusion:

“When you face someone stronger, the one who’s quickest to adapt and react will have the upper hand.”

Gurrrrk gurrrk!

Lua Gharne chuckled as she spoke. Enkrid was gradually growing accustomed to Frokk's laughter, which expressed emotion through puffing out her cheeks.

Even after that conversation:

“The Middle Blade Style was originally developed to combat monsters and beasts. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

“The Straight Blade pairs well with the Flexible Blade, and the Middle Blade with the Swift Blade. The Illusory Blade, however, stands alone.”

“As you practice one form, others tend to stick naturally. The best approach is to round out your skills and learn them all. Eventually, your strongest form will emerge on its own. But in your case, you’ll have to work harder for it.”

Her advice was always accompanied by her unique perspective.

“When you struck that wolf beast earlier, you should’ve aimed horizontally, not vertically. That way, you wouldn’t have that mark on your left arm. You should’ve shifted your weight onto your right foot and deflected with the Flexible Blade Style. Here’s how.”

She repeatedly demonstrated her points after battles, ensuring he understood.

“Now, try again. Block this.”

Training was relentless. Lua Gharne personally wielded a blade to recreate scenarios, refining his responses.

She slowed neither her steps nor her teachings.

Lessons continued during meals, before dawn, while on watch, and before sleep.

Enkrid focused intently and absorbed every lesson.

“You’re too slow to react. You saw it, didn’t you? Then you should’ve dodged—or at least blocked with your sword.”

Crack.

This was during a battle with three hyena beasts. Dangerous in packs, but three posed little threat. Enkrid ended the fight with only a scrape on his side.

Still, Lua Gharne pointed out his mistakes.

Enkrid accepted her critiques.

With them, a thought arose—sparked by her words.

When the same issue is pointed out repeatedly, it’s impossible not to face it.

‘The sense of evasion.’

Jaxon had mentioned it before, but Enkrid hadn’t fully grasped it yet.

‘Coordination, he called it?’

The more he learned, the more he realized how much he still had to master.

Among those, one thing remained elusive—the sense of evasion.

Through training his dynamic vision, he could now see the trajectory and impact points of an enemy’s movements more clearly.

For example, the swinging arm of a ghoul and where it would land—he could predict it.

“The Straight Blade shines when predicting the opponent’s movements.”

Seeing allowed him to anticipate. Acting on that, he swung his sword downward, drawing a long arc.

The ghoul’s arm split open with a crack, and he followed through with a vertical slash that split its skull in half.

The blade stopped just short of cleaving through the heart. He had deliberately held back out of respect for Lua Gharne.

Thud.

He kicked the ghoul away and withdrew his sword. Two strikes had ended the fight.

“Not bad,” Lua Gharne remarked. From that moment, Enkrid immersed himself in mastering evasion and the basics of the Straight Blade Style.

But the sense of evasion remained elusive.

‘I can’t quite get it.’

He understood the principles and the training methods. But understanding wasn’t the same as ingraining it into his body.

It reminded him of when he first learned the Heart of the Beast, or the intense focus of One Point.

How had he learned them?

One was realized through near-death experiences.

The other required the perseverance of a slow learner.

Would this require similar conditions?

Enkrid didn’t dwell on such thoughts. He simply gave his best within the environment he was given.

That was who he was.

The constant appearances of monsters and beasts served as excellent tests, and he welcomed them with a drawn blade.

“Again?”

As they crossed a thorny hill, Finn groaned with exasperation. Another group of beasts appeared before them.

“This isn’t even a cursed zone. Why the hell are monsters popping up so often?”

Her frustration was palpable, her anger undeniable.

Beasts couldn’t understand human words. Even so, there must have been a valid reason for such anger.

If it wasn’t directed at the monsters themselves, then at what?

Enkrid soon realized the truth, as did Kraiss, who muttered from the side:

“She’s finally reaching her breaking point.”

Gurrrrk.

Lua Gharne puffed her cheeks in agreement.

“Grrr!”

Esther sneezed.

Finn was a ranger.

What exactly does a ranger do?

The Pathfinder finds the route.
The Map Maker creates the map.
The Ranger leads the group along a safe path.

Why were the Glacier Rangers, tasked with protecting glaciers, so renowned across the continent?
Why were they considered extraordinary?

It was because they survived in deep forests, regions rivaling cursed zones, and areas teeming with monsters in extreme cold.
They were the best at detecting danger and ensuring the safety of their group.

There were even industries that hired Glacier Rangers to venture into the depths of glacial lands to harvest rare herbs or precious metals.

Finn wasn’t a Glacier Ranger.

But she still took pride in her role.

And yet, no matter where they went, monsters and beasts kept appearing.

It was enough to make anyone question their skills.

“How many days has it been since we left?”

Enkrid glanced at the visibly frustrated Finn and spoke up.

“Three days,” Kraiss replied promptly.

If they walked diligently, it would take twenty days to reach the frontier settlement. On a wagon along the main road, the journey would take six to seven days.

The route was fraught with risks, but with a ranger’s guidance, it could still be relatively fast and safe.

Before departing, Finn had nudged Enkrid in the side and confidently said:

“If we were on a wagon, we could just ignore slow ghouls, but since we’re traveling on foot, that’s not an option. Still! Having a ranger like me with you is honestly a stroke of luck, isn’t it?”

Now, the cheerful Finn who had smiled at Enkrid overlapped with the furious Finn standing before him.

Her anger was justified.

“This isn’t your fault,” Enkrid said.

Finn let out a long sigh. “Ugh, I swear, what is this? I don’t even know what to say anymore.”

She felt just as wronged now as she did before.

Why had she chosen the thorny hill path?

Monsters and beasts usually avoided uncomfortable routes. This area was one such path—a trail blocked by thorny bushes at every turn.

It wasn’t a place just anyone could navigate. Without the knack for finding paths, one wouldn’t even think to enter.

Even with a hand axe, cutting through the thorny brush was challenging.

But now, look at the beasts before them.

Thick-skinned as they were, they had braved the thorn-covered terrain to charge forward.

It was a pack of spotted hyena beasts, common in these parts. One of them was even limping, and another dripped blood with every step.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Frokk muttered.

To Finn, it sounded like misplaced consolation.

Enkrid didn’t pay any attention to the muttering. Instead, he focused on the beasts’ movements.

Rather than launching into an immediate attack, the beasts displayed wariness first.

Their heightened caution signaled preparation for battle, and so, Enkrid also prepared himself.

He set down his backpack and drew his sword.

“I’ll handle this. Stay back.”

Enkrid stepped forward.

Eight hyena beasts.

Not a small number. Even with one of them limping, it was still a lot.

Normally, a pack of beasts posed a significant threat. But no one was worried.

In the past three days, they had seen how many monsters and beasts Enkrid had slain.

This was just another fight.

Enkrid did end up getting grazed on the shoulder and narrowly avoided getting bitten on the thigh. But with quick thinking, he used his shin guard to kick one hyena square in the head, escaping the danger with ease.

Two of the beasts had charged toward the group instead.

One met its end when Esther’s claws turned its head into three pieces.

The other was launched into the air when Lua Gharne delivered a kick to its torso, sending it momentarily soaring at bird-like heights.

It was an impressive display of skill. Launching a beast into the air with a kick, without rupturing its stomach, required remarkable control and technique.

Meanwhile, Enkrid dealt with the rest of the hyenas.

The group continued on their way.

“Ugh, for real!” Finn’s irritation only grew.

This time, it was a pack of striped hyenas.

“They just keep coming! Seriously!” Kraiss clicked his tongue in frustration.

They had encountered so many that it was becoming absurd.

Srrrng.

Enkrid drew his sword once again.

It had been twenty days since they left the city.

By the stream where they had stopped to wash up, thirteen hyena beasts suddenly appeared.

It wasn’t a crisis.

After all, they had survived being surrounded by werewolves before.

And hyena beasts were nothing compared to werewolves.

Crack!

Frokk’s whip cracked loudly against the ground.

“No point in letting my skills get rusty,” Lua Gharne said with a grin.

She was right. This level of combat was just a warm-up.

Thud!

Esther stomped her front paw, as if declaring her presence.

Of course, no one forgot what she was—a cunning Lake Panther who could understand human speech.

They had enough strength to handle beasts without concern.