Chapter 334: What Is Inside Your Head?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 334: What Is Inside Your Head?
Every morning began with the Isolation Technique alongside Audin. Afterward, Encrid practiced slow, deliberate sword swings—training to master the movement of every single muscle fiber—before moving on to his relentless sparring sessions with Rem.
In between, he fueled himself with meals and snacks like herb pies.
Given his extraordinary level of activity, his metabolism was on another level. He ate—and excreted—prodigious amounts. Consuming massive quantities of food was simply a necessity.
Aside from the time spent eating, sleeping, or tending to his basic needs, Encrid pushed his body like a madman. The very first thing he had done the moment his body fully recovered was demolish his own barracks.
And after that?
Knowing how to observe his own progress, Encrid pondered and trained, over and over again.
Whether Krais had actually pulled some strings or not, the stream of visitors finally stopped. Encrid was quite pleased with the silence. In fact, he had just declared that he would no longer even accept tributes from the Gilpin Guild.
However, when he was asked to meet just one specific person and stepped out to the front of the barracks, he saw an unexpected face.
"Have you gotten more handsome?"
It was a muttered remark, delivered with a smile. The expression and the face were both familiar.
It was Leona Lockfried.
The master of a merchant guild, and a friend with whom he had once stayed up all night.
As Encrid stared at her in silence, Leona smiled and asked, "You haven't forgotten my name, have you?"
"How could I forget?"
She was a highly memorable person. She had once asked him how he felt about becoming friends. "Friends"—coming from the mouth of a woman who had swept aside the former guild master's son to claim the merchant guild for herself, the word had been incredibly refreshing.
Back then, they had eaten herb pies, shared pumpkin soup, and browsed the market together. They had stayed up all night, cracking jokes and sharing stories.
Just because they had agreed to be friends didn't mean they had instantly become bosom buddies. However, a mutual fondness remained—a human connection entirely unrelated to romance.
Leona, now the guild master, appeared in neat leather pants, a white shirt, and a fur vest. The shirt was unusually thick; to be honest, it was a fabric Encrid had never seen before. Looking at it, his immediate thought was that it would make an excellent lining for a gambeson if woven even thicker.
He was, without a doubt, a man who thought of nothing but fighting, battle, and swords.
As the two faced each other in front of the barracks, Krais, watching from the side, muttered, "Where exactly does the 'more handsome' part come in?"
Encrid hadn't shaved his beard, nor had he washed after sweating profusely. His hair was long overdue for a cut, left messy and untouched, and it was currently half-dry after being soaked in sweat.
In short, he was filthy.
Krais wrinkled his nose. To make matters worse, the man didn't even smell good.
In Krais's professional opinion, a handsome face wasn't the primary tool for seducing a woman. The number one factor was, without a doubt, aura. Even an exceptionally handsome man with large eyes, a high nose bridge, and plump lips couldn't beat a compelling aura.
And what created that aura? It was a combination of things: scent, gaze, attitude, appearance, and a well-trained body. Looks were included, of course, but they weren't everything.
That was what aura meant to Krais.
So, was Encrid's current aura fatal to women? Unless she was a swordsman obsessed with sparring, this was hardly a moment that would work on a woman. Absolutely not. It was to the point where calling it "demonic charm" felt like an embarrassment.
"I told you to go wash up first," Krais sighed.
"It's a waste of time," Encrid replied without even turning his head.
He was recalling the past, reflecting on his experience from back then. It would be more accurate to say he didn't have the luxury to look away.
A single night's rest.
There had been no romantic signals, nor any physical contact. They had simply talked. They had rested.
At the end of that rest, what had Encrid gained? He couldn't forget it even if he wanted to. It was a physical sensation. After reflecting on the trajectory of his sword swings, the steps he took beforehand, and the movement of his shoulders, he had realized how to quickly draw a line connecting point to point.
That was when he had grasped a portion of the concept of speed.
What he had grasped back then wasn't the important part; the process was. Recalling the process brought back the sensation of that moment. Not that he was going to do anything with it right now—this was more like fine-tuning his direction. Since he was already walking the right path, it was merely a slight aid.
Therefore, Encrid thought, now was the time to welcome the friend he hadn't seen in a long while.
"You really have changed," Leona said, staring intently into Encrid's eyes.
She was a guild master and a merchant. It was only natural that she had an extraordinary eye for people. Her comment about his looks improving was half-jest, but half-serious. His appearance wasn't the issue; his aura was entirely different from when she had last seen him.
It's strange.
He had indeed changed, though it was hard to put a finger on exactly how. Leona simply felt it through intuition—a woman's intuition and a guild master's instinct. Then again, because he had changed, hadn't he achieved such great feats and spread his name far and wide? From the capital to the surrounding cities, there wasn't a soul who hadn't heard the name Encrid.
"Did I get more wrinkles?" Encrid joked casually.
"You're saying that just to tease me, aren't you?" Leona shot back.
The two exchanged smiling glances. Encrid wondered if they should go have tea somewhere, but no sooner had the thought occurred than Krais gestured, and a few soldiers immediately set up a table and chairs.
What was with this level of preparedness?
Encrid's wits were exceptionally sharp. He realized there was a reason Krais had insisted on bringing him here.
"You can't very well stand and talk the whole time, and the Captain is busy, you see," Krais said, mimicking a two-handed sword swing.
Leona knew all too well that Encrid was a man obsessed with training. Even back when there was guild business in the Border Guard, hadn't he engaged in an impromptu sparring match? Afterward, Leona had even watched Encrid train in person.
Encrid glanced at Krais. The big-eyed bastard was even making up plausible excuses. There was definitely something going on.
Leona sat in the chair prepared by the soldier as if she didn't mind. Her gaze remained fixed on Encrid. Behind her stood Mathis, the guard he had seen before. There was also another man—quite handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes. By Krais's standards, he was someone who knew how to carry himself with an air of sophistication. He curled the corners of his mouth into a gentle smile and stood at attention behind Leona.
"What brings you here?"
"Would you believe me if I said I came to see a friend?"
"Hardly."
"You're right. It's guild business. But seeing a friend at the same time is still a pleasure, isn't it?" Leona smiled as she spoke.
Encrid smiled back. He thought it was a genuinely pleasant gathering, but...
The tea tasted terrible.
It was the kind of tea used to drive away unwanted visitors. It was served when you wanted to tell someone to drink up and get lost, so why was it being served here?
On purpose?
Of course. Krais's intentions were clear. Even when their eyes met for a brief second, Krais pretended not to notice, looking despicably yet somehow endearingly shameless.
Encrid focused back on Leona. They exchanged a few words of small talk.
"It's still amazing to me. Do you know how incredibly famous you've become? I knew this would happen. I should have dragged you into the guild back then by any means necessary."
"Does a merchant guild need a swordsman that often?"
"We need them often. We aren't a settled merchant guild, after all."
It was trivial knowledge, but interesting to listen to. There were two types of merchant guilds: traveling and settled. While many used a mix of both, the Lockfried Merchant Guild leaned far more heavily toward being a traveling guild. That brought many problems, but because they had no particular place to rely on from the previous generation until now, they had no choice but to make wandering their primary trade.
Unless he was a fool, Encrid could read between the lines. It wasn't that they had no place to rely on, but rather that they lacked mutually beneficial relationships. Even if they had, the other party would have tried to swallow the guild whole or stab them in the back.
All of those circumstances had shaped the Lockfried Merchant Guild's present state. Lacking a base of operations—a home ground—meant it was that much harder to exert influence within a region. To make a profit anywhere, they often had to partner with local guilds.
To turn a profit under such conditions, they must have established the Lockfried trade route and opened transactions with the Glacier Rangers, the Black Leather Guild, and the Shepherd of the Wilderness. A merchant guild trading with those three groups was hardly common.
That was how the Lockfried Merchant Guild had operated until now. But should they keep doing so in the future? No. They, too, needed a base of operations. They needed to secure stable profits—especially now, when an ominous energy loomed over the continent.
So, where should they establish their base?
A place where the situation is rapidly changing.
A place ripe for profit. A city whose value was skyrocketing amidst an unstable domestic political climate that threatened civil war. In other words, a place like the Border Guard. It was the perfect spot for a base of operations.
Encrid grasped the situation roughly, but he didn't bring it up. Leona didn't either. If Krais had brought him here to gain the upper hand in negotiations, it was a miscalculation. Because the two of them had met as friends.
"What about marriage?" Leona asked.
"I haven't."
"What about that elf?" she whispered.
"She mostly jokes about calling me her fiancé."
"Tch, how boring."
"What about you, Leona?"
"I'm already betrothed to the merchant guild."
"Really?"
"It's a lie. I do have a fiancé, but I'm not sure yet. It's closer to a political marriage, so if other things go well, I might not have to do it. That said, I have no intention of flirting with you, Enki. Once I'm rejected, that's it for me. So, I'm just telling you to regret not falling for my seduction back then."
"Sure, I'll do that occasionally."
"Regret should be felt constantly and miserably on a daily basis."
"I'm busy."
"With swinging your sword?"
"You know me well."
As they traded jokes, both of them chuckled. Encrid felt as if he had returned to his childhood for a moment. A woman like Leona knew how to make others feel comfortable. Was that a talent of a merchant, or did it stem from her consideration for others? It didn't matter. He was simply enjoying the moment.
As they exchanged a few more words, Krais suddenly chimed in. "A political marriage? Does that even make sense?"
Here? Suddenly?
"Ah, exactly. I really don't want it," Leona agreed.
"Right? Don't you agree, Captain?"
"...Agree with what?"
Krais lightly kicked Encrid's foot under the table. He then took a sip of the tea, pretending his throat was dry—the very same Krais who had previously sworn never to drink it, claiming it tasted like absolute shit.
Encrid finally understood the situation.
Two parties in need of a deal.
That was the relationship between Krais and Leona. He hadn't served the terrible tea for no reason; he had done it to signal the nature of this meeting. Lockfried needed a base of operations. The Border Guard needed a shield to block the troublesome nuisances surrounding them. Their needs aligned.
Encrid thought Krais was a truly hilarious bastard. He could see why he had been called here. It was a classic honey trap—or rather, an attempt to use their friendship to gain leverage.
Look, your friend is right here. Are you really going to be difficult?
It was an incredibly petty tactic. There was only one reason Krais would act like this.
"How much did you agree to get paid?" Encrid asked.
There must have been a promise from the Castellan. Though Encrid spoke with complete insight, Krais didn't panic. When gold coins were on the line, he could become a brilliant actor, an outstanding strategist, and a remarkable conversationalist.
"Pardon? What do you mean by that?"
"She's someone who came to visit as a friend."
If one wanted to use friendship to gain leverage, it was only right to consider the flip side. Encrid was also Leona's friend.
"If you say such misleading things..."
"Ah, it's fine. Transactions should be clean and straightforward," Leona interrupted, surprisingly taking Encrid's side. To Encrid, those words sounded like: 'I won't fall for any cheap tricks, but I won't play those tricks either.'
"I'm leaving."
Encrid stood up. He believed there was no further role for him to play here.
"See you next time," Leona said with a bright smile, offering the back of her hand.
Encrid took her hand, lightly pressed his lips to the back of it, and turned away. It was proper etiquette. He had learned it here and there, mastering it back when he used to earn gold coins by escorting noblewomen to parties during his days as a mere mercenary.
"He really belongs in a salon," Krais muttered.
As Encrid turned to leave, another person stopped him.
"You, there."
It was Mathis. He tried to hide his expression, but his surprise was glaringly obvious. He hadn't been able to believe the rumors even after hearing them. He was someone who had actually seen Encrid before.
This guy gained that much fame?
He had thought half of it was a lie, but seeing him in person, Encrid's composure was on a completely different level. He truly looked like a powerhouse—unless Mathis's eyes were playing tricks on him.
"Are you available for a spar?" Mathis asked.
Encrid had come out right in the middle of his training. Three swords were still strapped to his waist: the gladius, the silver-bladed longsword, and Spark.
"Anytime."
There was no refusal. Leona didn't stop him either. She knew Mathis; for him to step forward like this meant something had provoked him.
Ting.
Their swords were drawn. After sizing each other up, they lightly brought their blades together without a word. As if by agreement, the two swords met cleanly in the center.
Clang, cl-clang.
Three times, their blades clashed as they tested each other. Since it was a spar, it was courtesy to give the opponent time to warm up. Immediately after the third exchange, Mathis swung his sword with full intent. He was a city-level powerhouse who knew how to project his aura.
"A city-level powerhouse? Bullshit. Everyone dies the same when they get hit by a blade."
Rem would have criticized him like that, but Mathis was undoubtedly an acknowledged powerhouse. Even so...
Ting.
The moment the metals clashed, Mathis realized his opponent's sword was not a single beat slower than his own. He tried to press down, using a sword form designed to suppress an opponent's blade by blending the Soft Sword and the Heavy Sword.
However, Encrid's sword was faster than Mathis could react. His blade deflected Mathis's sword and lunged straight forward. It was the Snake Sword—a strike that blocked, deflected, and struck all at once. Due to an optical illusion, the sword truly seemed to bend as it entered his guard.
Mathis stared at the silver-shining blade that had stopped just before touching his neck.
Like this? Without even looking like he exerted himself?
To make matters worse, the level of mastery in Encrid's swordsmanship seemed even higher than his own.
"Ha."
A sense of emptiness washed over him. Compared to when he had last seen him, Mathis would have believed it if someone told him this was a completely different person. The difference in skill was clear. Even if he hadn't let his guard down, defeat would have been inevitable. It was a gap so wide that holding out any longer was meaningless.
"Well then."
Encrid didn't know how to comfort a defeated opponent. He simply turned around. He believed a man like Mathis would find a way to stand back up; he wasn't a knight, but a warrior of a merchant guild. Once he remembered his duty, he would do what needed to be done.
Behind him, Krais began the negotiations. Hearing those words drift over, Encrid thought: That bastard.
Encrid finally realized what Krais had been aiming for from the very beginning.
"Now then, the tasks you need to perform and the things the Border Guard will provide have been finalized."
Krais had no intention of dragging out negotiations. By bringing Encrid out and having him take Leona's side, Krais had forced both sides to lay all their cards on the table. Otherwise, neither of them would have the face to look Encrid in the eye; they had to maintain mutual trust.
In other words, Krais had called him here to act as an arbitrator.
When it comes to petty schemes...
He truly might be the best on the continent. Then again, that was why he could handle so many different tasks without ever hitting a snag.
Afterward, the Lockfried Merchant Guild opened a branch in the Border Guard. Naturally, there was backlash from local merchants, but they settled in by accepting what could be accepted and cutting away what needed to be discarded. A single month was more than enough time.
Meanwhile, Encrid swung his sword. For an entire month, he did so as if repeating today over and over again. Encrid was a man capable of doing that even without the sensation of making progress.
But now, he actually felt himself moving forward. This month had not been in vain.
"Is this fun for you?" Rem asked during a spar.
Encrid replied with a smile. "That goes without saying."
How could he do this if he didn't enjoy it? Rem acknowledged it. His Captain was definitely a madman. Just a moment ago, hadn't he almost crossed over to the afterlife from Rem's axe? An unintended repetition of "today" could have easily occurred.
The Ferryman had practically glimpsed Encrid's death, yet he hadn't died. It was utterly mind-boggling. Having watched all of this, the Ferryman had no choice but to offer his third-highest praise.
"What is inside your head?" he asked.
What else could be inside the head of a man who did nothing but swing his sword for an entire month? It was a question to which the answer was already known.