Chapter 110: Luck and Misfortune Come When Least Expected
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 110: Luck and Misfortune Come When Least Expected
Finn and Torres had gone in first to report.
Torres would handle the general briefing, while Finn assisted with the details. All Encrid had to do was report his return.
As he stood before the barracks, he spotted an unexpected figure.
It was Gilpin.
His clothes were shredded in several places, and his face was a map of blue bruises. One eye was swollen half-shut, though it appeared to be on the mend, and he limped heavily as he walked. It didn't look like his leg was broken, at least.
"Let me see."
Encrid took a quick glance. It looked like a badly sprained ankle.
"I'm fine," Gilpin said, though a faint trace of anxiety lingered in his voice.
Encrid nodded. "What happened?"
Gilpin was managed by Krais. Naturally, he wouldn't be in this state unless something had gone sideways with the Gilpin guild.
"He’s here."
"Who?"
"That frog bastard who was in league with the former guild master."
Ah, Frok.
Encrid didn't even need to dig through his memories. Right—they had said Frok would return once spring arrived. That meant he was here now. But wasn't it a bit early?
"Explain everything."
Encrid wanted the full story first. If Krais were dead or if it were a true life-or-death emergency, Gilpin wouldn't be standing here talking; he would have been on his knees, begging Encrid to follow him immediately.
*
Krais had already been eating and sleeping within the territory for six days.
Spending a week outside the barracks was a normal routine for him. Moreover, rumors were circulating.
‘They said we’re marching out soon.’
That meant there was a mountain of preparation to handle—from securing food supplies at the start of the year to various errands. Many people sought Krais out, not just common soldiers, but high-ranking officers as well. Thanks to that, he had plenty of people willing to do him favors.
And so, it was the sixth day. He wanted to settle as much business as possible before the march. Above all, ever since taking over the Gilpin guild, counting his krona had become a lot more fun. Why would he ever want to go back to the barracks?
‘Let’s see. How much will I rake in today?’
Opening a salon later would cost a fortune in krona. It was best to stack it while he could. He had also made a handsome commission recently on the items the squad leader had brought in to sell.
‘I wonder if he’ll find more loot like that.’
Then again, a mage had been hiding in the sewers. How often did a windfall like that actually happen?
"It’s lunchtime. Let’s grab a bite."
Around noon, he called Gilpin over. Lunch was a noodle dish made from ground whole wheat. Through some impressive skill, the noodles had been stretched thin and stir-fried, topped with olive oil and tomato sauce. It was decent enough to eat.
"So, did you block off the basement of that shoemaker’s shop?" Krais asked, his fork clinking against the plate.
"Blocked it off ages ago," Gilpin replied, swallowing a mouthful of noodles.
Their goal was to act as night watchmen, even if they couldn't yet be the true guardians of the night. To that end, the Gilpin guild exerted its influence in places the standing army couldn't reach. Filling in the shoemaker’s basement was one such task. The regular army didn't care about things like that; they had plundered everything worth taking and left the tunnel behind.
Of course, the squad leader had looted it first.
In any case, what was the night watch? Aside from shaking down the drifters who entered the territory, it was about giving the local residents the impression that they were being protected. The effect? Needless to say, it was excellent.
It made collecting tributes easier. It made settling protection fees smoother. Especially when gathering information—it was as if every resident in the territory had become Krais’s ears.
‘If I put my mind to it, I might even be able to weed out all the spies from Azpen.’
It seemed possible once the Gilpin guild absorbed the surrounding factions. But for now, it was too early to make a move. Krais stopped eating, staring blankly as he chewed over his plans.
‘For muscle, I can rope in the squad leader.’
If the squad leader moved, it would motivate the rest of the squad to follow. Since each member’s desires were clear, coaxing them wouldn't be difficult.
‘What about the manpower?’
There were slums in Border Guard, too. Though some there had given up on life, others struggled desperately to survive.
‘I can recruit from the slums.’
He would absorb the small-timers while crushing the rival guilds. If nothing else, Krais was confident in his eye for people. Perhaps it was because he had grown up rolling through the dirt. Back when he was begging, he could tell at a glance who would give him a coin and who would give him a boot.
Of course, he had to take hundreds of beatings to reach that level of intuition. The moment he realized that talking to the wrong person could get him beaten to death, his survival instincts had naturally blossomed.
‘It actually seems doable.’
Should he call it the Back-Alley Guild Unification Operation? In a year—no, once the foundation was laid, he could dominate the back alleys in less than six months.
If everything went according to plan.
However, plans always had variables. And here was that variable.
Crash!
They say luck and misfortune come when least expected. It was no different for Krais.
Someone burst through the drawing-room door of the mansion. It was a figure draped in a thick cloak. Krais didn't waste time wondering how he had gotten in. He didn't even ask who it was.
There were about a dozen guild members guarding the mansion. Two of them, who had been stationed at the door, were now sprawled on the floor.
‘Any blood?’
There was no pool of blood. Were they still alive? It seemed so. In a split second, Krais assessed the situation and accepted the sudden misfortune. His sharp mind spun furiously as his eyes scanned the intruder.
"Yes, please, come this way," Krais said, his first words after making his assessment.
"You know who I am? That’s a fresh reaction."
The cloaked figure shrugged, the movement rustling the heavy fabric. His voice was rough and raspy, as if his vocal cords had been shredded.
"I didn't think your identity was the most important thing right now."
"Sharp instincts."
As he spoke, the man shed his cloak. Beneath the sliding fabric, he wore armor reinforced with a steel plate over his chest. Heart Armor.
"...Ah."
It was difficult for a human to distinguish the features of a Frok, yet Gilpin recognized him instantly. A Frok with a white scar on his neck. The grim reaper who visited periodically—the very bastard Gilpin had warned Krais about.
‘Isn’t this way too early?’
Hadn't they said he would arrive long after spring had set in?
"Where did the guy who was here before go?"
"He got tired of this place and went up first," Krais casually answered.
Cold sweat poured down Gilpin’s face. One wrong word, and he would be "going up" next. The terror of death loomed over him—a threat born of an overwhelming disparity in power.
In this tense atmosphere, Krais asked nonchalantly, "Have you eaten?"
Frok curled his lips into a smirk. "You’re an amusing bastard."
With those words, Frok moved. Gilpin tried to resist, only to be thoroughly thrashed. It was over in three blows. And that was with Frok holding back; had he drawn his weapon, it would have ended in a single exchange. Krais didn't even resist, yet he was struck as well.
"Humans only listen after they’ve been beaten. That’s my philosophy. Now, what’s the name of the bastard who killed the former guild master?"
After thrashing them, Frok hoisted Krais up by his collar with one hand and demanded an answer.
Krais’s mind raced. Who among the squad members could handle a monster like this? Rem, Ragna, Audin, Sachsen. Whose name should he give? Whom should he send Frok after? He had been weighing this from the moment he laid eyes on the intruder, so he didn't hesitate.
"Cough... you could have just asked. I would have told you."
"I didn't want to. I prefer beating people before I listen."
Crazy Frok bastard.
Despite his inner thoughts, Krais smiled and replied, "I see. A soldier from the Border Guard standing army killed him. His name is Ragna."
"Then why are you sitting here?"
"I’m just a proxy. The acting guild master."
"Amusing, very amusing. Hey, baldhead."
Gilpin, who had been floored in an instant, didn't even know how he had been hit. His eye socket throbbed with intense pain, and his thigh was so numb he couldn't stand.
"Ugh... Y-yes?"
"Bring me Ragna. Do that, and I’ll let this guy go."
At those words, Gilpin looked at Krais.
"Go. Bring him. Our real guild master."
Gilpin was quick-witted. He understood that Krais wanted him to bring someone capable of killing this Frok bastard.
Frok was no fool either. Even if he couldn't distinguish truth from lies, he knew this small, pretty-faced human was plotting something. Frok made up his mind.
‘I’ll kill that Ragna bastard. And then I’ll put a leash on this one.’
Since the original manager of this place was dead, it was time for a replacement. Contacting the homeland to arrange things would be too much hassle, so he decided a local recruit would do. And if things went south? Slipping away would be child's play.
*
"How many days has Krais been captured?" Encrid asked, scratching his nose.
"Three days."
"And my squad members?"
"They all headed to the battlefield, as luck would have it."
"Even Rem?"
"I don’t know about him. I only heard that they weren't around."
"Did you confirm that Big-Eyes is alive?"
"I saw him just a moment ago."
"Did he break all his limbs?"
"...Excuse me?"
"Never mind. If his limbs are still intact, then..."
Encrid muttered to himself, nodded, and stood up. He and Gilpin had stepped away from the barracks entrance to a quiet corner to talk. Gilpin craned his neck to look up at him, wondering what on earth Encrid was doing. Shouldn't they be rushing to rescue Krais right this instant?
Encrid spoke again. "I should report my return first."
"Should I wait?"
"No. Frok is still at the mansion, right?"
"Aren't we going right now?"
Right now? There didn't seem to be any need for that. If Frok had intended to kill Krais, he would have done so long ago. The fact that he hadn't even broken Krais's limbs over the past three days meant...
‘He’s holding out well.’
Krais’s intention was also crystal clear. He wanted Gilpin to call any of the squad members. That was why he had brought up Ragna’s name. While Rem, Audin, and Sachsen could be summoned somehow, why point specifically to Ragna—the laziest, most directionally challenged of them all, and the hardest to find? It was a plea for anyone to come.
‘The problem is, I’m the only one left.’
It was a surprise even to Encrid that all his squad members had headed to the battlefield without him. Krais couldn't have predicted that. Apparently, the Troublemaker Squad had marched out under someone else’s command. He had to admire whoever managed to drag them along; controlling Rem and the rest of that bunch was enough to make anyone’s head explode.
"Go back and tell him to wait just one more day."
At those words, Gilpin’s face contorted in dismay. "The guild master will die!"
It was a natural reaction. Gilpin was currently satisfied with his life. Acting as a mere night watchman rather than a guardian of the night suited him perfectly. There were fewer headaches, and it gave him peace of mind. Krais might have been obsessed with krona, but he was fair.
Gilpin wanted to protect this peace. The man who would have abandoned everything and fled before Frok’s arrival was gone. He now had something to protect.
"We must go," he urged once more, but Encrid shook his head.
"Go and tell him to wait just one more day. Tell him Ragna will come for him."
With that, Encrid turned away. Gilpin had no choice. He had to go back and deliver the message. If he didn't report back, Frok would tear the guild master to shreds.
Gilpin dragged his feet, desperate to piece his shattered peace back together. ‘Oh, God.’ He found himself praying to a god he didn't even believe in.
Encrid headed deeper into the barracks.
"He’s been hanging around for days. What’s going on? I asked him, but he wouldn't say a word," the soldier guarding the entrance asked as Encrid walked past.
‘He’s loyal.’
Encrid thought of Gilpin and smiled inwardly. A standing army soldier taking over a back-alley guild? With a bit of bad luck, it was an offense punishable by execution. So Gilpin couldn't have spoken of it, yet he still wanted to protect Krais. That loyalty was clear.
"Just some bullshit," Encrid gave a vague reply and stepped inside.
Krais wouldn't die just because one more day passed. That much was clear from Frok’s behavior.
‘He doesn't seem like an idiot.’
Though Froks had a reputation for being simple and brutish, they were as varied as humans. There were smart ones, stupid ones, and meticulous ones. The same went for elves, dragonkin, and giants.
‘If I have the time...’
If there was no need to rush over immediately, Encrid wanted to be ready. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he walked. He was no fool. What he had realized through this "today" was simple:
‘I’ve gotten better.’
Otherwise, he would have been killed by the lycanthrope or the enemy commander long ago. Yet he had even slain a mage. Wasn't that proof of his growth?
Then, could he handle a Frok? When he had fought that stabbing freak in the past, a single kick had shattered his ribs and sent him into unconsciousness. But what about now?
‘I think I can do it.’
It wasn't baseless confidence. Even though Krais had been looking for his squad members and not him, Encrid saw an opportunity.
‘Frok, Frok, Frok.’
Wasn't he the perfect opponent to test himself against?
This was preparation. He wasn't seriously injured, but fatigue had accumulated. He had spent the last two days practically without sleep. Although he had napped on the way back, he wasn't in peak condition.
Therefore: ‘Report my return, then rest.’
Encrid did exactly that. Since letting Krais die was not an option, he had to face Frok. It could be considered a headache, but Encrid felt a strange excitement.
‘Strange. Truly strange.’
Normally, would he have been afraid? No, rather than being afraid, he would have charged in even knowing he would lose. He couldn't just stand by and watch his people die. That was how Encrid had always lived. However, whereas in the past he would have taken those steps bracing for defeat, now, he genuinely didn't know whether he would win or lose.
"The company commander?"
Upon entering the barracks, he found that many people were gone. There was news that the Elf Company Commander had led the Troublemaker Squad out as an advance party. So that was who had taken them. Because of that, Encrid had to report his return to a platoon leader from another company.
"So you’re the only one left from the Independent Platoon, and you’re joining them immediately?" It was a familiar face.
"I’m exhausted, so I’ll join them in two days."
"Right, get there as fast as you can. There’s trouble on the battlefield. There might even be a second deployment."
The platoon leader rambled on, waving a dispatch. Encrid nodded in understanding and turned away.
He unpacked in the empty quarters, soaked in hot water, and fell asleep under a warm blanket. In case he died at Frok’s hands and had to repeat today, this sleep was to ensure he was in the best possible condition.
Encrid fell asleep quickly. It was a deep, dreamless, and refreshing sleep.
Upon waking, Encrid rubbed the sleep from his eyes, washed his face, and chewed on meat for breakfast.
"You sure can eat first thing in the morning," the soldier on kitchen duty remarked, shaking his head.
After wolfing down the meat, he practiced the Isolation Technique. It was an excellent exercise for digestion and warming up the body. Afterward, he sharpened his longsword, packed it, and counted his remaining Whistle Daggers. There were only two left. He hadn't been able to retrieve all the ones he had thrown.
‘I wonder if that fellow can make more for me.’
Thinking of the territory’s blacksmith, he held the blade up at an angle to inspect it. It was fine. There were no cracks. A few chips here and there, but nothing serious. The blacksmith had warned him that cutting down a mage would ruin the blade, but it was in surprisingly good shape.
‘Does it vary from mage to mage?’
Only after he had finished all his preparations...
Meow!
"Where have you been?"
Esther appeared. Since she had been nowhere to be seen, he thought she had left.
"Stay here. I’ll be back in a bit."
With that, Encrid headed back outside.
Hiss!
Esther hissed from behind, seemingly angry at him for leaving her.
"Want to come along? But you can only watch."
At Encrid’s words, Esther leaped up and snuggled right into his arms. Feeling her warmth, Encrid set off.
His destination was the mansion where Krais was being held.