Chapter 178: I Shall Fall for You
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 178: I Shall Fall for You
"Really, anytime—anytime you want to come—no, you must come. By the way, are you married? Not that it matters, not at all. Yes, come whenever you like and settle down here. My daughter is quite the beauty... living together... yes, that would be wonderful. Wouldn't it?"
The drunken village chief was on his nineteenth repetition of the same offer. When he nudged the man beside him, an equally inebriated villager nodded with vigorous enthusiasm.
With every nod, crumbs of food tumbled from the man's bushy beard.
"Of course, yes. Absolutely wonderful."
It was clear to anyone watching that they were utterly wasted.
The chief really does lose his mind when he drinks.
Encrid had caught a fleeting glimpse of the chief’s daughter earlier. She wasn't even fifteen yet—hardly more than a child. While early marriage was a custom in the West, it wasn't practiced here in the Center. This was nothing more than drunken rambling.
"Hahahaha!"
The village chief and the man with bug jerky stuck in his beard stumbled away, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. Encrid watched them go with a quiet, steady gaze.
A village that had survived a crisis always celebrated with a festival.
When the Border Guard's blacksmith had moved to hack the cultist to death—regardless of whether the man was a mage or not—Luagarne had simply shaken her head.
Is there any point in keeping him alive? Encrid had asked with a silent look.
"He is already dead," Luagarne had replied. "His heart has stopped."
The cultist’s end had been a sudden cardiac arrest.
Afterward, the monsters that regained their senses fled into the night. A few stragglers had tried to attack, but there was no need for Encrid to intervene. With a sharp whoosh, an arrow pierced the skull of the remaining beast.
"We won!"
"We held the line!"
Shouts, cheers, and cries of joy erupted from those who had survived. And rising above it all was his own name.
"Encrid!"
Every villager now knew his name and chanted it in unison. These were the voices of the people he had protected—the voices of those who had watched his back.
Feeling a rare sense of satisfaction, Encrid flicked the blood off his sword and turned back toward the village. He walked through the roaring cheers and the parting crowd as the settlement slowly began to breathe again.
"Long live Encrid's Wall!"
He heard a few peculiar shouts as well. The master builder had insisted on the name, the village chief had eagerly agreed, and even Deutsch Fullman—the guard captain who clearly aimed to become the core authority of this territory—concurred that the name was fitting.
Naming a wall after me.
Honestly, it didn't feel too bad. He figured it was half a joke anyway.
That was the night they drove back the monsters and demonic beasts. The village chief brought out every scrap of food left in their stores, and the entire community ate and drank together. Encrid joined them. He ate, drank, and allowed himself to enjoy the moment.
"A drink?"
He accepted the cup Finn offered and took a sip. It was excellent. It was apple wine—its sweetness and crisp acidity blending perfectly with the rich aroma of the alcohol, filling his mouth with a vibrant flavor.
"Good, isn't it?"
The speaker was a man with a patchy beard that looked as if it had been chewed on by rats. When the stranger smiled sheepishly and asked again how he liked it, Encrid nodded.
"It's good."
"My pride and joy," the man puffed out his chest. He seemed to be the village brewmaster. "I was saving this one, but I want you to have it."
His tone was rough, but the emotion behind it was genuine. He was expressing his deepest gratitude.
"Because of you..."
Leaving the words we survived unsaid, he handed over a full bottle of the apple wine, mentioning it was of a different caliber than what the others were drinking.
With a soft pop, Encrid uncorked the bottle and took a sip.
Hmm.
It was indeed different. The flavor, the body, the aroma—everything was on another level. The scent of fresh apples brushed the tip of his nose, and a rich, savory depth unfolded with every swallow. A velvety sweetness enveloped his tongue, prompting him to raise the cup again and again. Encrid had never tasted anything like it in his entire life.
"This seems far too valuable."
"I was planning to open it when my daughter gets married."
It was a bottle with its own history. When Encrid hesitated, wondering if he should really accept such a gift, the man smiled.
"Don't worry, I still have one more bottle left."
He beamed. Patchy beard aside, his expression was incredibly warm, filled with pure, unadulterated joy.
"Come here, dear. Greet him."
The brewmaster quickly brought his wife over. She was quite beautiful; the old saying that talented men win beautiful wives seemed to hold true.
"I'll enjoy it," Encrid said with a polite nod, returning to the wine.
The village chief, Deutsch Fullman, and many others took turns sitting beside Encrid for a brief chat before moving on. A grand feast had been laid out in the center of the village, turning the night into a massive festival.
"We should celebrate this day every year. Shall we call it Encrid's Day?"
Are they going to name everything after me?
"What does a name matter anyway?" someone chimed in, and the others nodded in agreement. They decided to commemorate this day—the official start of summer—every single year.
Will they actually do it? Encrid watched them with mild amusement, sipping his wine.
The village chief continued to repeat himself in his drunken stupor. The chief's wife boasted that in just two years, her daughter would grow into a beauty who would turn the entire territory upside down, but...
Not a chance.
She was a perfectly ordinary girl, so painfully shy she couldn't even bring herself to speak to Encrid. Instead, a cheeky little boy marched up and demanded to be taken in as his subordinate.
"Go wrestle five of Deutsch Fullman's vigilantes to the ground first," Encrid told him.
The boy looked dead serious. "I will!"
But the moment he charged at a drunken vigilante, he received a swift flick to the forehead and burst into tears. Watching him run away crying after trying to act like a grown-up, Encrid figured the kid probably still wet the bed. Still, the boy had spirit. In a world too harsh to survive without wild dreams, Encrid silently rooted for him.
"My thanks to you."
Deutsch Fullman seemed to have an incredibly high tolerance; he wasn't one to get drunk easily. His nose was slightly flushed, but his speech remained perfectly clear. He emptied his cup a few times in silence, then grumbled, "And here he told me he didn't have any of this left."
He cursed the brewmaster under his breath.
"If you ever need a glaive, call on me anytime. A vow danced upon the blade."
It was a traditional mercenary vow—a solemn declaration that he would answer the call no matter the circumstances.
Dancing upon the blade. It was a poetic gesture.
"A dance upon the blade," Encrid replied, returning the mercenary salute for the first time in a very long while.
"Until next time." Deutsch gave a brief nod and walked away.
Encrid poured himself another cup. A few drinks were nowhere near enough to cloud his mind, yet he felt no urge to pick up his sword and swing it like a madman tonight. He had already finished reviewing the battle in his head.
"Resting is important, brother."
Audin's gentle advice drifted back to him. Encrid agreed. Rest was essential. And if there was to be a single day of rest in the entire year, today felt like the perfect day for it.
With that peaceful thought, Encrid ate and drank. A skilled hunter among the vigilantes had brought back a deer and roasted it whole. The man who butchered it certainly knew his craft; the meat was tender, perfectly salted, and had barely any gamey odor.
"Whew. If I tell people about this when I go back, do you think anyone will believe me?" A pleasantly tipsy Finn wandered over.
"Believe what?"
"The Monster Slaughterer. The dance of the dual-wielding madman."
Only when she was drunk did Finn reveal the soul of a bard. Giggling to herself, she drifted off toward another group.
Krais, his face flushed, stumbled over and poked Encrid in the ribs. Encrid had sensed him approaching and knew the poke was coming, but he let it slide.
"Let's go find that treasure."
"Sure."
"No, I'm serious, let's go! Do you think I'm trying to keep it all for myself? I'm not, I swear. Why don't you ever believe me?"
"Sure, let's go."
"Look, it's barely half a day's journey from here. I've already figured out how we're going to get inside. Traps? Not a problem, I tell you!"
"Sounds great."
"Don't you think it's time to make a decision?"
Krais's eyes burned with drunken passion. Who on earth let him drink this much? Encrid quietly sipped his wine, gazing up at the moon. Krais blinked his large eyes, looking bewildered.
"Wait... what did you just say?"
"Ask yourself tomorrow when you're sober."
"Huh?"
"It means get lost."
At first, a massive crowd had swarmed Encrid, but now they had dispersed, leaving him in peace to watch them mingle. He felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.
The moonlight bathed the village. The night air was pleasantly cool, and it wasn't yet the season for swarms of insects. Then again, the northern part of the continent rarely had many bugs to begin with. Add to that the delicious apple wine, the roasted venison, and the prized delicacies each household had brought out from their cellars—platters of aged cheese and smoked meats were passed around freely.
They were burning through their winter stores, but tonight, no one cared. They had just eradicated a colony threat.
The corpses of the cultists and monsters had been dragged outside the perimeter. The weapons and armor left behind by the gnolls had been sold to the village for a fair price in Krona. Starting tomorrow, the villagers would face incredibly busy days. They would have to dispose of the corpses, repair the breached palisades, haul stone from the quarry, and recruit new settlers to expand the village.
Perhaps they would absorb the smaller surrounding settlements. That was how a pioneer village grew into something greater. They would lure skilled craftsmen here, even if it meant emptying their pouches of Krona. In time, they would transform this village into a fortress.
How long would it take to build proper stone walls and erect a keep? Without the aid of mages, relying solely on the builder guilds... it would take a few years at least. They would need a manor house as well. Considering all the variables, it might take even longer. Still, with the village chief this motivated, they would find a way.
Since this was a land infested with monsters, securing trade routes would be difficult. They would have to make swift, decisive progress.
Encrid shook off his idle thoughts and raised his head. The village square was alive with noise. Someone was singing a boisterous song; another had brought out a lute and was plucking the strings. That fellow actually knows how to play.
He listened closely, gazing up at the stars scattered across the night sky. He was just beginning to wonder if the constellations resembled a warrior swinging a sword when a voice interrupted him.
"Aren't you curious about how to obtain Will?"
It was Luagarne. Encrid didn't turn his head at the question from the Frok who had taken a seat beside him. He didn't answer.
Seeing his silence, Luagarne spoke again. "Why don't you ask me?"
Only then did Encrid slowly speak. "I'll learn when the time comes."
Was he being complacent? No, that couldn't be it. From what she had seen of him, complacency was the last word that described this man. Luagarne didn't understand why she was the one feeling impatient, but a sudden urge to teach him welled up inside her. It wasn't the first time; she had felt this way ever since they met.
She had finally spoken up because she couldn't contain herself, but his nonchalant reaction made her want to tease him.
"Do you really think you can become a knight?"
"Who knows."
Another flat, unenthusiastic response. It was a reply that didn't suit him in the slightest. Encrid kept his eyes on the moon.
"It's a dream. Just a dream."
It was a short sentence, but it pierced her chest like a sharp blade. That was the weight of Encrid's words. Luagarne placed her hand over her heart armor. Her left arm was still regenerating, leaving her temporarily one-armed. She felt a sudden tightening in her chest.
"This is how an Associate Knight utilizes Will. They channel Will into one or two specific movements. Even that is an incredibly difficult feat, but achieving at least that much is what places one in the realm of superhumans who have surpassed their limits. It is the domain beyond mastery."
Why is this Frok suddenly telling me this? Is she drunk on the moonlight? Or the wine?
"Do Froks get drunk too?"
"Sometimes. But not tonight." Luagarne was a straightforward soul; she spoke her mind without hesitation. "Right now, I think I am intoxicated by a certain man."
There was no need to ask who that man was. Luagarne didn't expect an answer anyway.
"Associate Knight Aisia was obsessed with the kind of Will that generates momentum."
A Knight is one who can fully wield the power of Will. Associate Knights are those who can only grasp a fraction of it.
"Even among the Associate Knights who manage to grasp a fraction of Will, many ultimately fail to become true Knights. In fact, most of them fail. Knowing that, do you still wish to become a Knight?"
Was all that explanation just to ask me this? Regardless, the information was useful. Encrid nodded quietly.
"Yes. I will become a Knight."
His dream had been torn to shreds once, but Encrid had patched and stitched it back together. Now, it felt close enough to touch once more.
Luagarne stared intently at him. On the surface, he showed no trace of passion. But having observed the man named Encrid for so long, Luagarne knew better.
What a relentless man.
He was a man who harbored a blazing fire deep within, never letting it show on the outside. That was what made him beautiful. That was what made him so captivating.
"If you do become a Knight, I shall fall for you."
To the Frok, biological reproduction and emotional love were entirely separate matters. Because of this, they were capable of loving humans. Moreover, a Frok's love was vastly different from the human concept of it. They possessed no concept of possessiveness, nor did they have any notion of physical intimacy. It did not bother them in the least if the man they loved was with another woman; in fact, they would often introduce themselves to the other woman and politely ask for her understanding.
It was incredibly rare for a human to receive the love of a Frok. It was an extraordinary occurrence.
Encrid stared at her, wondering what on earth she was talking about, before giving a slow nod.
"Do as you please."
It was a nonchalant response, a testament to the sheer depth of his character. Luagarne found herself liking him even more.
As the two shared a drink under the canopy of moonlight, a large black panther suddenly squeezed in between them. She narrowed her eyes, looking for all the world as if she, too, knew how to enjoy a good drink.
"Want some?" Encrid asked.
Esther opened her jaws, and a splash of the precious apple wine trickled into the panther's mouth. Swallowing the sip with a soft gulp, the panther let out a low, satisfied rumble.
"Good, isn't it?"
In response, the panther simply opened her jaws once more.