What is the wall?
"We took a wrong turn."
Encrid rubbed his ears in the imaginary world.
What did he hear wrong?
"Look straight at the wall."
The ferryman continued.
Doubt came first, but despite the doubt, the words were clearly heard.
Look straight at the wall.
It meant to take a proper look.
What is the wall?
It is the number of those who blocked his way.
It is the quality of the troops.
Hurrier family swordsmen, mercenaries, Gray Hound, wizards, and sorcerers.
It is the terrain itself.
Up until now, the answer Encrid had come to through contemplation was this:
'Increase strength and break through.'
Each time, a new obstacle awaited him.
Once, just when he thought he had barely escaped,
"The Gray Hound never misses its target."
Some more persistent than Rem would block his path.
Even if their heads were cut off, they would throw their bodies at him.
The Gray Hound, the emergence of persistent lovers.
Once he overcame them, they were added to 'today's' challenges.
They were included.
At first, there were three mercenaries from the Hurrier family. After that came a wizard, then a sorcerer, and after overcoming all of them, the Gray Hound stood in the way.
Meanwhile, regular soldiers kept charging at him again and again.
Even though he repeated what he had experienced, every day was a different 'today'.
The order they came in changed, and their fighting styles evolved.
Encrid was not well-versed in military strategy.
However, one thing was certain.
'It feels like I've been trapped in something.'
So, what should he do?
What was necessary to escape from here?
He still believed the answer was strength.
Some days, he didn't encounter the Gray Hound, other days he passed without meeting a sorcerer or a wizard.
On some days, he didn't even see Cent.
He had gotten to the point where he almost welcomed meeting them.
Naturally, he encountered them more often than not.
"Oh, Cent, nice to see you."
"Do you know me?"
Valen Mercenary Sword Technique, pretending to be familiar.
He would pierce Cent's neck with Ember and break through the human wall that blocked his path.
Only to die again.
And face 'today' again.
He would crawl down the cliff to see if there was an escape route at the bottom, only to die again.
He would throw himself into the valley water, only to be harshly beaten by a wizard.
By that time, Encrid thought there were five walls in total.
The mercenary Cent and his band of mercenaries.
Three swordsmen from the Hurrier family, whom he now even knew by name.
They were Roach, Merior, and Leblanc.
The four wizards summoned water spirits or shot water cannons.
The water whip was especially dangerous.
If it caught your arm, it would shred your arm guard in an instant with its spinning water current. Even those who used it would be panting.
He had seen them turn pale a few times.
Then there were the sorcerers.
They mostly used a spell called 'Invisible Force' which wasn't too difficult to deal with.
Just because it was invisible didn't mean it lacked presence.
It was dodgeable with the Sense of Evasion.
However, their methods were often irritating.
Sometimes they would make the ground feel sticky as if glue was stuck to your feet, making everything annoying.
On top of that, the sorcerers were always with a large force of heavy infantry armed with long spears, making them quite troublesome.
And lastly, the Gray Hound.
In terms of sheer strength, the Gray Hound felt like the weakest.
But in terms of persistence, the Gray Hound was the worst.
If persistence and stubbornness were the only criteria, you could give them a thumbs up—no, double thumbs up.
No matter what, they were always there, confronting him 'today'.
So, five walls.
The mercenaries, Hurrier swordsmen, wizards, sorcerers, and the Gray Hound.
It seemed like breaking through all five simultaneously would be enough.
But it wasn't possible.
No matter how you looked at it, it was impossible.
On top of that, archers, crossbowmen, spearmen, and heavy infantry were mixed in.
Among them were a few Fairy soldiers who were excellent archers and beastfolk with unorthodox movements.
At least there weren't any Frogs, Dragonfolk, or Giants. That was a relief.
Should he consider it as six walls then?
Including those troops?
'That's not good.'
Despite what he mumbled to himself, Encrid still relished the thrill.
As he repeated 'today', he made full use of the newly given time.
He struggled and struggled.
He made the most of what he had gained.
Under the surprisingly warm winter sunlight, this was the result of doing everything he could.
It wasn't good.
'The experience of slaughter.'
The experience of killing and being killed became second nature.
He killed and killed so much that his sense of smell became numb to the scent of blood.
Yet, no way out of 'today' revealed itself.
That's why the ferryman's words stuck so firmly in his mind.
He stared straight at the five or six walls.
Did anything change because of that?
No.
As another 'today' repeated, he dreamed, and the ferryman spoke.
"If you don't understand it, you can't overcome it. There is only one wall."
Encrid took his words to heart.
A few more 'todays' passed.
Even though he listened carefully, nothing changed instantly.
All he could do was contemplate.
Then he met the ferryman again.
"Hey, aren't you tired of this?"
This time, the ferryman asked something trivial.
"More than tired, it's just difficult."
That's why he wasn't tired.
Does the uncertainty of the future weigh on your mind?
If it had been enough to break him, he wouldn't have dreamed in the first place.
Encrid thought and thought again.
What is the wall?
He had returned to the starting point.
"How much should I tell you? How much should I do for you to understand?"
The ferryman taunted him.
Encrid, curious that he could sense emotion, asked back.
"Are you mocking me, by any chance?"
He wondered if he had misunderstood.
"Do I need to say it for you to understand?"
The ferryman immediately showed a blank, disgusted expression.
The fact that he showed disgust was only known because he conveyed it.
As Encrid found himself blocked and spending more time with the ferryman, he started to indulge his curiosity.
"Why a ferry?"
Wouldn't a sentry pulling hellhounds be more fitting?
Why the river, why the ferry, and why the ferryman?
"Because a ferry can go anywhere."
"What does that mean?"
"It's not something for you to understand."
After meeting him several times, Encrid started to notice something.
He concluded that the ferryman had a split personality.
His demeanor changed at will.
"There is no need for you to be curious."
Some days, he would speak with a heavy tone.
"Sometimes I just call you a bastard."
There was also a fluttery, casual way of speaking.
"Did you face the wall?"
There was the ferryman who would talk only about the wall, no matter the topic.
"You sure are full of questions."
And then there was the friendly ferryman, the one who would at least give some kind of response.
When asked what he usually did, the friendly ferryman would reply:
"I steer the ferry."
Even if he spoke, it wasn't always something Encrid could understand.
"I see."
"You will steer a ferry too, eventually."
The ferryman spoke, and Encrid brushed it off.
After over three hundred repeated 'todays', Encrid felt the limitations of his abilities.
'It's hard to improve further.'
It was the same feeling he had when he faced the master of thrusting techniques.
At certain moments, in certain situations, there is only so much you can gain.
If tomorrow doesn't come, nothing changes.
Therefore, he had to overcome the wall of 'today'.
'Five or six walls.'
No, just one wall.
Combine all five into one?
Try to gather them all in one place and fight them together?
Following his thoughts, he did as his heart told him.
With great difficulty, he herded all five groups together and fought them.
He died.
The four wizards and the sorcerer worked well together.
They didn't seem to know each other, but they quickly synchronized their attacks.
He also confirmed Cent's specialty.
Rather than direct confrontation, Cent was skilled at striking from behind.
Although Encrid had forced him into a direct confrontation many times, it was only because he had detected him first each time, thanks to his instincts.
'He was always trying to target my back.'
He hadn't known.
It took over three hundred repeated 'todays' for him to realize it.
In any case, that wasn't the solution.
Next, he kidnapped one of the enemy soldiers.
Usually, ten soldiers moved together, but when someone had to relieve themselves, three would go together.
"I'm going to take a piss."
It was the result of him hiding and waiting patiently the moment they got up.
"Always go in threes."
Encrid followed the orders of the one who appeared to be the Squad leader.
Out of the three soldiers, he snapped the neck of the one who was relieving himself and used Ember to pierce holes in the throats of the other two.
After hiding the dead soldiers between the bushes, Encrid stripped one of their uniforms.
It took more effort to change clothes than to kill.
After roughly putting the soldier's uniform on, over his body, Encrid devised a plan.
"Ambush!"
He shouted loudly and headed in a different direction from the original squad.
What would happen if he escaped like this?
Would he return to 'today' due to evasion?
Did he truly have to break through those five walls to progress?
But the ferryman had said there was only one wall.
He had also said that if you don't understand, you can't overcome it.
'What is it that I don't understand?'
He didn't know that either.
Though the excitement was starting to fade, despair did not take its place.
Encrid wandered, searching for a solution.
Wandering and digging deeper was one of his specialties.
"Was it you who shouted?"
That was the moment he encountered a different squad.
The enemy soldiers did not let their guard down.
They were cautious.
Why?
He was wearing the same uniform.
Could it be that all the soldiers knew each other's faces?
No, that wasn't it.
"Wilted flower."
There was a passphrase.
Could he figure it out after repeating 'today' a few more times?
In any case, he was discovered.
It was time to fight desperately once again.
A furious battle followed.
In the next 'today', he stole the enemy's uniform again. This time, he asked first.
"Wilted flower."
"Enemy!"
At that moment, the opponent shouted immediately.
What had gone wrong?
Encrid couldn't tell the difference.
In truth, it was simple.
Avnair didn't underestimate Encrid.
He had thoroughly analyzed him.
He studied the man named Encrid.
And what did he discover?
"He's skilled in trickery. He's also adept at deception, a natural strategist."
This was one of the methods to prevent Encrid from escaping by deception.
The key to the passphrase wasn't just saying "Wilted flower" — the crucial part was the accompanying action.
You had to pair the words with a specific gesture.
Once the gesture was made, the other person would confirm their squad affiliation with the correct response.
It wasn't complicated, but impossible to figure out if you didn't know.
Avnair was thorough.
He ensured that Encrid couldn't eavesdrop on the passphrase and escape.
He also made sure the soldiers of the nearby squads were familiar with each other's faces.
They even had slight differences in their uniforms to verify identities.
These were things Encrid couldn't know, no matter how many times he repeated 'today'.
More importantly, after trying a few times, Encrid's intuition kicked in.
This wasn't the right path.
'It's a bit of a headache, though.'
Encrid calmly steeled his resolve.
'What am I missing?'
He pondered, reflected.
He didn't forget his own strengths and repeated them.
He recalled what the ferryman had said.
After endlessly repeating 'today' and experiencing death, Encrid finally realized something.
'The wall is one.'
What is a wall?
It's something that must be overcome.
'The wall is one.'
After repeating this to himself several times, he understood why the ferryman had said it.
"I understand now."
"What?"
The realization struck him, right in front of Cent.
The mercenary widened his eyes in shock.
What good would that do him?
Encrid struck Cent's jaw with the hand gripping his sword.
Crack!
His jaw shattered, teeth flying through the air.
Then, with his gladius, Encrid severed Cent's neck.
Slash!
The severed head fell to the ground.
"Kill him!"
Once again, he fought and fought.
Just before death, he repeatedly dodged his enemies to catch his breath.
He had now mastered the art of fighting for extended periods.
Each time he paused to breathe, his thoughts became clearer.
Encrid understood that to move forward, he needed to know how.
'If you don't understand, you can't overcome.'
It was obvious.
The wall wasn't the issue—he had to first understand the method.
It wasn't five walls.
It was a 'strategy'.
Or perhaps it was tactics, or even warcraft, that was the real wall.
He had to escape the trap set by the enemy Commander.
'But how?'
He was not Krais.
So what should he do?
Encrid searched through his memories.
He had a similar conversation with Krais before, and when that memory resurfaced, the solution became clear.
No, the road ahead was still long, but he could now see how to find the way.
"I think people who use their heads can be divided into two types. One type predicts and prepares for everything, while the other moves based on intuition in the moment. Both require intelligence, though."
Krais then added:
"The Commander is definitely the latter type. Far from being the former."
Encrid hadn't asked why.
But now...
He recalled each and every one of the over three hundred 'todays' he had lived through.
Moments he had missed because he was too busy fighting like a madman started to pile up.
There were warnings, subtle things that had slipped through his senses.
Why had he ignored them? Why had he passed over them? Why had he felt the need to do so?
'Because I had to get past the wall in front of me.'
But his vision didn't narrow this time.
This was different from before.
He hadn't been able to overcome the wall because he hadn't known what it was.
The moment it became clear, Encrid understood what he had to do.
'Minimal combat, fighting to survive.'
Instead of frantically struggling, he needed to use intuition, instinct, and his sixth sense to surpass the enemy's strategy.
That was the path.
'If I don't have to fight them all...'
It was something Avnair could never have anticipated.
He had miscalculated in two ways.
One, Encrid was repeating 'today'.
And two, Encrid's mind worked much sharper than Avnair had realized.
"Ah."
On exactly the three hundred and seventy-eighth 'today',Encrid found the way forward.
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