Chapter 269: Preparation and Readiness
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 269: Preparation and Readiness
The two young vigilantes guarding the village entrance exchanged a look before turning their attention back to the road.
One of them, who had been loosely clutching a leather coif, carelessly slapped it onto his head. He had a sluggish, disinterested demeanor. "Well, you're not wrong..."
At that, the other vigilante—the one with sharper, more observant eyes—stepped forward. "I’ll have to ask inside. Wait here a moment."
As one of the guards disappeared into the village, Sachsen’s tongue didn't stop wagging for a second.
"I mean, there aren't even any monsters around here, and doesn't something smell delicious? It’s dinner time, and we’ve been chewing on nothing but dry jerky for four days! We’ll make it worth your while, so please, cut us some slack."
He was gently coaxing the remaining guard. The youth had large, innocent eyes and nodded slightly, clearly tempted, though he didn't open the gate just yet.
"I can't just let you in... but if you wait, they'll give us an answer from inside..." He had a frustrating habit of trailing off at the end of every sentence, but Sachsen didn't seem to mind.
"I see, I see!" Sachsen nodded enthusiastically, looking genuinely pleased.
Encrid watched the display, amazed in real-time. How is this bastard so good at this?
It was as if Krais himself had come here, merely wearing a different face.
But did normal villages usually control entry this strictly? Some did—if there were many dangers nearby or if they were at war with a neighboring settlement. However, this village didn't seem to fit either category.
"Please understand... a wandering swordsman who came by a while ago caused some trouble... and even that Frok fellow did too..." muttered the hesitant vigilante. He hadn't even been asked, yet he kept glancing at them as he spoke, appearing incredibly timid.
Encrid thought he knew who that Frok was. Had he caused trouble after acting like he’d just picked up some stray on the road?
As Encrid watched the agonizingly slow-spoken guard, word finally came from within. The sharp-eyed fellow strode back out and shouted, "Come on in!"
Permission was granted. Sachsen beamed with a wide, miraculous smile. It was a skillful performance—though, come to think of it, perhaps it was only natural.
He used to be the one in the unit who smoothed over everyone's friction.
But at some point, Sachsen had cleanly cut off the people around him. It had happened in an instant. Afterward, rumors circulated that he spent all the Krona he earned at the brothels. It was a rumor born from how frequently he would head to the marketplace and fail to return to the barracks.
Encrid never believed those rumors. If Sachsen had truly fallen for a prostitute, he was the kind of man who would have simply brought her back with him. Why would he silently keep going back and forth?
Only those close to him knew the truth. To an outsider, he looked like a common soldier squandering his hard-earned blood money on vice. Of course, Sachsen’s act wasn't that simple. Sometimes he would spend the entire day at a teahouse or sip beer while lingering around gambling dens. He looked exactly like an idle loafer killing time.
At least, that was how it looked from the outside.
Was there a reason behind it? Was he up to something else? Encrid had noticed it long ago, but he hadn't paid it much mind. He probably has his own business to attend to.
This kind of acting, the shifting expressions, and the ability to mimic Krais in an instant were all part of his specialties. Walking without a sound, moving without a trace, and swinging a sword devoid of killing intent—that was Sachsen.
Encrid reflected on what he knew. There was still no reason to push him away, nor any reason to question him. He was the leader of the independent company, and Sachsen was his subordinate. As long as Sachsen did his job and fulfilled his duties, that was enough.
In that regard, Sachsen was an excellent soldier and a fine teacher. Even if Sachsen were to turn his blade against him, Encrid would ask him "why" twice before fighting back. He was even willing to let himself be struck once. That was how much he felt he owed the man.
More than anything, rather than focusing on Sachsen, Encrid was currently...
"Oho, quite a talent you have there."
...simply fascinated by Sinar, who was marveling beside him.
What on earth had this elf been doing to have missed a village that reeked so blatantly of drugs?
As they stepped inside, the young vigilante warned them from behind. "Don't cause any trouble. Just because you look like you know how to use a sword, don't go throwing your weight around, or you'll end up bleeding."
Normal villages usually maintained mercenaries or armed groups to some extent, unless there were special circumstances. This village showed clear signs of being meticulously maintained.
The fences were high and double-layered, with obvious signs of regular repair. The outer fence was woven with cultivated thorny bushes and stood quite tall. Most monsters or demonic beasts wouldn't even dream of trying to get in. And as they had seen when entering, the entrance was narrow—barely wide enough for a single carriage to pass.
To an outsider, it might look like an ordinary village, but not to Encrid. While strangers thought Encrid was a "sword-crazy bastard" who knew nothing but the blade, Krais and a few others knew better.
"Our captain is actually smart; he just doesn't make a habit of using his head."
They were right. Above all, Encrid possessed excellent instinct and intuition. Combined with his Sensory Technique, he could sense uneasy atmospheres and catch unusual scents. It was one of the reasons he had survived so long with such meager skills. And now, he had developed an eye for measuring an opponent's strength; his senses had been thoroughly tempered.
Encrid looked around. This village didn't farm. It was built on a plateau along a mountain range, yet there were no slash-and-burn fields to be seen.
How did they make a living? He saw a few mountain goats, but this was clearly a village of over several hundred households. To remain safe from monsters on the continent, people had to live close together. Building wide fences and cultivating fields inside them was common sense. Even if they had a separate orchard, they had to fence it and station troops there. It was an absolute necessity for survival.
The village population seemed to be at least three to four hundred. And more than half of them were young people.
No farmland. Few livestock.
And the proportion of working-age adults was overwhelmingly high. On top of that, wasn't the village chief supposed to be a young, beautiful woman?
Nothing about this place was normal. Yet, there were no rumors about this village in the surrounding areas. Surely a few peddlers would have mentioned it. What must a village do to hide its tracks and prevent rumors from spreading?
Encrid thought for a moment. Beside him, Sachsen—fully channeling Krais—was happily running his mouth.
"Oh, you sell goat's milk! If you make cheese with this, it must be so delic—oh, you have cheese too!"
Cheese made from goat's milk had a deep brown hue. If stored well, it had a sweet, rich flavor. Sachsen emphasized this as he pulled out a few rolls of fine silk he had brought along, items he had packed specifically to play the part of a merchant.
Watching him, Encrid returned to his thoughts. How do you keep rumors from spreading?
You just bury everyone who comes by.
What about those who couldn't be dealt with by force? You give them what they want and send them on their way. Was that why their location hadn't been discovered? Indeed, this place was west of Moder Guard, and it wasn't a shortcut one would take when crossing the mountains. Some might say that made it safe from bandits, but...
Would that really be the case?
The caliber of the vigilantes gathered here was unusual. Encrid stood casually, watching the passersby. The most amusing sight was a woman passing by in a wide skirt.
Hey, what are you hiding under there?
The weight distributed on her feet was uneven, and her stride length was off. He could have wagered Krais's tongue that she had a blade long enough to pierce a human torso strapped to her right thigh.
"What an interesting place," Encrid muttered.
"Here, try this."
As soon as he spoke, Sachsen swiftly popped something into his mouth. Even though Encrid had been on guard, he only perceived the movement the moment it made contact. Quite apart from the sharpness of his Sensory Technique, Sachsen's hands were still incredibly difficult to detect.
A piece of brown cheese had been slipped into his mouth. As he rolled it around, the dry bitterness he expected was replaced by a refreshing sweetness. It was well-made. There was someone with highly skilled hands in this village.
"What a wonderful village!" Krais—no, Sachsen—said with exaggerated gestures. The merchant selling the cheese smiled in response.
"Is that so?" The merchant was missing a front tooth, causing a whistling sound to escape his mouth. It was a simple, rustic smile, but Encrid knew this fellow was no pushover. The palms of the man's hands were heavily calloused—marks that only formed after handling weapons for a very long time.
As Encrid looked away, pretending not to notice, the elf murmured beside him. "Enki, it feels as if we've gone on a trip to celebrate our holy matrimony."
On the continent, such a thing was called a honeymoon. Of course, the atmosphere was nothing like that. The elf seemed to have a tongue that would sprout needles if she didn't make jokes. Encrid understood with a broad mind.
On the surface, the atmosphere seemed normal, but anyone in the know could tell. Since Sinar was an elf with exceptional sensitivity, she surely knew as well. Numerous eyes were watching them. It was extremely covert. Between alleys, on rooftops, through cracks in windows—there were people hiding everywhere.
"There's a liquor made from goat's milk sold at the inn. You must try that as well. There's only one inn, so you won't get lost."
"Thank you." Sachsen smiled broadly and handed over a few more copper coins. The merchant grinned again, his missing tooth leaving a lasting impression.
As they headed toward the inn, Sachsen kept voicing his admiration. "It's a small village, but the people are so lively!"
Encrid translated those words in his head: There are too many people for a village of this size, and they are all trained.
"Is this how they build houses here? The architectural structure is quite unique."
The inn is in a perfect position to be surrounded.
"The women here are overflowing with healthy beauty too!"
The women are also trained.
"Before we know it, the sun is setting. We should sleep early if we want to be diligent starting tomorrow dawn! The people here don't seem to sleep much at night."
If we move carelessly during the night, we'll get caught. It’s best to move at dawn.
Because he kept babbling nonsense, no one suspected a thing.
"If our friend Rem had come, things would have gotten really out of hand. Since these are kind people, they probably wouldn't like rough folks."
If we cause a scene, it will be hard to get things done. They’re watching us constantly.
It wasn't actual slang, but it functioned like a secret code that only Encrid could understand, especially since Sachsen mixed it into his idle chatter.
They entered the inn, ordered goat's milk liquor and dinner, and unpacked their bags. The two men took one room.
"Why are we dividing the rooms like this?" Sinar expressed her dissatisfaction, but she only went into the adjacent room after Finn grabbed her arm and pulled her along.
Sachsen stood by the wooden-framed window. The creaking hinges looked like they needed oiling. He stared outside for a moment, then turned around.
When he turned, the "soul" of Krais had vanished. The possession was over. Krais had left Sachsen's body.
"Hmm." Encrid was amazed once again. With this level of skill, Sachsen could easily be a lead actor in the capital.
"Why are you staring?" Sachsen asked.
"It's nothing." Encrid had nothing more to say. What could he say to someone who had performed so perfectly?
But Sachsen had plenty to say. He had picked up on more than just a few things. Inwardly, he was almost impressed by how thoroughly prepared these villagers were. Of course, he spoke nonchalantly.
"They're going to lace our food with sleeping pills."
Sachsen predicted their move. Encrid wondered if they would really drug them the moment they arrived, but he knew there was no harm in being cautious. "Shouldn't we tell the next room?"
Sachsen shook his head slightly. "We have an elf with us."
Their senses were sharp. Would their sense of taste be any different? That was why elven food was often bland; they didn't need heavy seasoning to taste every nuance. Because of their sensitivity, they were naturally obsessed with quality.
"She'll figure it out on her own," Sachsen said as he inspected the bed. He pulled a small bottle from his breast pocket and oiled the window hinges to prevent any squeaking.
He was meticulous. Moving silently wasn't just about the body; it was about preparation and precaution.
One side of Encrid's mind was always occupied by the sword. He had surrendered those mental rooms to the blade, to knights, and to dreams. Some of the occupants of those rooms whispered to him now.
Isn't the Orthodox Sword Style the same?
It was true. It wasn't quite an enlightenment, but he could spare a brief thought about the sword.
While Encrid was lost in thought, Sachsen finished his preparations. He oiled the hinges, checked under the bed, and meticulously tapped the ceiling with his fingernail. Then, he spread a wide cloth over the bed and secured the corners with needles.
Encrid didn't ask what he was doing. He was too busy swinging his sword in his own world. Sachsen was glad he didn't ask; it was a hassle to explain every detail.
Looking at it this way, do we actually get along pretty well?
When working, it was crucial to gauge your synchronization with a partner. Sachsen knew this well. Then he thought again. But then, who wouldn't get along with him?
Encrid got along effortlessly with Audin, Rem, and even Sinar. That was the kind of person the captain was. While he seemed completely unsuited for this kind of covert work, he also seemed like he would somehow manage to do it well.
As Sachsen moved, he pictured the events that would unfold. These were things he knew not through intellect, but through hard-won experience.