Chapter 346: Pahahahaha
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 346: Pahahahaha
The Queen of Naurilia was childless.
In other words, she had no successor.
Who, then, would become the next king? And why did the Queen have no children in the first place?
This void of power was precisely why contenders for the throne were emerging from every corner of the realm. Of course, the primary catalyst was the weakening of the Queen’s central authority.
As a result, men like Count Molsen styled themselves as kings of the frontier. Others within the capital vied to become the Queen’s consort, while foreign envoys shamelessly offered their own princes to fill the gap.
Countless eyes were fixed on the throne.
A man named Krang was one of them.
Krais hadn’t met every single person coveting the crown, but comparing Krang to Count Molsen was more than enough to draw a conclusion. After all, wasn't Count Molsen currently the most dangerous threat to the succession?
Based on that comparison alone, Krais realized one thing:
‘Their caliber is on a completely different level.’
Encrid felt the same, even when weighing the man against Count Molsen.
It was pure intuition, but it was clear that what Count Molsen desired was the throne itself. That was the beginning and end of his ambition.
But Krang was different.
The royal bastard did not look at the throne; he looked beyond it.
‘He is looking directly at the problems plaguing this country.’
Count Molsen surely had plans for after he seized power, but the difference lay in their focus. Was the throne the priority, or was it the work that needed to be done? What were they marching toward? Where did their true purpose lie?
In the afternoon sun, vines tangled along the right wall of the barracks. The green moss and creepers wedged between the stones pulsed with the raw vitality of life. It was the height of spring, and the temperature was climbing, though it wasn't yet warm enough to break a sweat just by walking.
Amidst that peaceful sunlight, the man who held everyone’s gaze chuckled.
“That’s why I hated doing it so damn much.”
His final words bordered on a joke.
“Is that so?”
“Aren’t you the same? Have you never wanted to quit? Have you never grown sick of the path you’re walking? Never wondered if you really had to go this way?”
Encrid pondered Krang’s words. He hadn't. He had never grown weary of it, nor had he ever hesitated. Not even once.
Swinging his sword was enjoyable. He found joy in the path he forged through it. Every single moment of becoming a knight was pure ecstasy.
Even though Krang spoke in a jesting manner, his unique aura remained unshaken. His eyes locked onto Encrid’s. At that moment, Encrid felt as if the world around them had vanished, leaving only the two of them.
‘Can you truly say there was no suffering?’
It was as if Krang were asking him that directly.
He felt a pull to say yes. It wasn't an oppressive pressure, but an atmosphere that made him feel he had to answer that way. This was the unique gravity Krang projected. Within it, Encrid became a straight, unbending sword.
He spoke from the core of his being, from the pillar he had erected inside himself. There was no hesitation.
“None at all,” Encrid replied.
At those words, the smile vanished from Krang’s face.
His expressionless blue eyes stared intently at Encrid. A silence stretched between them, long enough for one to take a sip of tea, savor its flavor, and swallow.
“Pahahahaha!”
Krang laughed heartily. He threw his head back and let out a booming, refreshing roar of laughter.
*
Krang’s guard had never seen his lord laugh like that before.
To throw his head back and laugh until tears welled in his eyes... It was unfamiliar, but more than that, it was incomprehensible.
Considering the life Krang had led up to this point, it was a miracle he could laugh at all. Carrying his own food out of fear of poison was the least of his worries; he was constantly plagued by threats of assassination. Just identifying the culprits behind the plots made for exhausting days.
He had to dodge and weave, all while building his faction. He had to bend what others called "luck" to his side.
“What is it about you that we are supposed to trust and support?” a certain noble had once asked, and the guard had agreed. What indeed was there to trust?
“Have you ever moved based on things like belief or trust?” his lord had countered.
Krang changed situations with just a few words and his innate charm. He captivated others and shifted the tides, yet he always maintained his boundaries. He never crossed the line. He kept his principles. That was the life his lord had chosen.
It was harsh. A brutal, unforgiving life. The standards he set for himself were incredibly high.
And because of that, he shone.
To shine meant to capture people’s gazes, to captivate them, and to stand out wherever he went. Perhaps that was why a radiant gemstone was valued far more than food or clothing. The noble who had spoken those skeptical words back then had now become one of his lord’s staunchest supporters.
“How can you obtain what you desire by only walking the righteous path?” a man called a sage had once asked.
His lord had replied: “I may occasionally step in the mud, and the filth on my boots might dirty the room, but I cannot simply stand by and let those who walk with me frown at the sight of it.”
Instead of arguing, the sage had fallen into deep thought. “That is also true,” he had said. “Your words are also true.”
Krang and the sage had become closer than anyone.
The guard had witnessed that entire journey. He knew the years they had traversed. That was why he knew—he had never, in any moment, seen his lord laugh like this. The sight of his lord laughing so genuinely was utterly foreign.
“Ah, yes. There was none.”
His lord wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. He had laughed so hard he cried.
“Yeah. None.”
The man opposite him didn't even ask why he was laughing. He merely replied calmly, showing no sign of bewilderment.
The conversation between his lord and the black-haired man continued. After that, the radiant, heavy atmosphere vanished. Only trivial remarks were exchanged.
“Why did you charge into the enemy lines alone back then?”
“It wasn’t a charge. I was trying to hit and run, but I got bogged down.”
They were talking about the time he fell into a trap set by the strategist Abnayor.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier if you had brought your troops with you?”
This was a question for the future. It wasn't about dwelling on the past, but about reviewing the situation to reflect and avoid repeating the same mistake. Listening from the side, Krais felt that Krang’s attitude was wise. Just because it was a battlefield situation didn't mean there was nothing to learn.
Krang wasn’t interrogating; he was listening intently. It was an attitude of knowing how to listen to others, on a level similar to Encrid’s.
“Then our casualties would have spiraled out of control.”
Because it was Encrid, he had died and died again, only to come out alive. If he had led a unit in there? They would have all been slaughtered. In hindsight, it had been the right choice.
“But you didn’t know that back then,” Krang pointed out.
“I figured that if I struck the front of the enemy lines alone, I could draw a massive amount of attention, which would free up our allies’ movements.”
“An elite-few kind of battle, then.”
To an outsider, it might have sounded like a serious discussion on strategy, but to the two of them, it was just casual banter. Naturally, the topic shifted in an instant.
“What’s that scar?” Encrid asked.
“A consequence of misjudging someone.”
Krang had a long scar running beneath his jaw. It must have been a near-fatal wound.
Encrid didn’t say much in response. His attitude was merely, ‘Ah, I see.’
However, internally, he wondered if Krang had a poor eye for people. What was a king? A king was one who ruled over people. If he lacked the eye to judge them, it was only natural that he would be betrayed.
Sometimes, meaning is conveyed without words. Encrid’s current attitude was exactly like that. Even without words, the message got through.
Seeing this, a vein bulged on the guard’s forehead. It wasn’t a simple matter of misjudging someone. If this man knew the actual circumstances, he wouldn’t be speaking so lightly.
“I learned a lot from it, regardless,” Krang replied with a chuckle.
This, too, was an unfamiliar sight to the guard. Until now, the most his lord would do was offer a faint, polite smile.
Their meeting, filled with a stroll, conversation, and the pleasant spring air, came to an end.
“See you around, friend.”
Krais felt a bit deflated. In the end, Krang hadn’t asked Encrid to join his side. Why had Krais even bothered preparing all those witty retorts?
‘In situations like this, isn't there a set script?’ Krais wondered.
Normally, a lord would say: What do you think of dreaming of such a country? Stand by my side and realize your dreams. I’ll let you swim in gold coins and frolic with a different beauty every day for a month!
Shouldn’t he be saying things like that? Then again, if he were that kind of man, he probably wouldn’t have made it this far.
While Krais was lost in these idle thoughts, Encrid spoke up.
“Are we friends?”
“Are we not?” Krang asked back.
“Let’s say we are.”
To the guard, this conversation was enough to make the back of his neck stiffen. Yet, he couldn’t step in. Hadn’t his lord told him to stand down? Above all, he believed there was a purpose behind his lord’s actions.
Even so, it wasn’t a pleasant sight. It looked as if his lord were handing over Krona and begging the other man to be his friend. It was like paying silver coins just to make a companion.
The guard’s jaw clenched. He unconsciously ground his teeth.
“If we keep this up, I feel like that guard’s whip is going to fly straight at my head,” Encrid noted.
“Do your best to dodge it,” Krang joked.
Encrid chuckled as well. Since he had already befriended Leona, the owner of the Lockfried Merchant Guild, it wouldn't hurt to do the same with someone who might claim the throne. In truth, putting all those calculations aside, he simply liked Krang as a person.
“Well then.”
“Yeah.”
Encrid and Krais departed. Krang quietly watched the two walk away.
Seeing this, the guard finally spoke. “You knew coming here would be dangerous, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
Krang placed a hand on his hip and looked up. He thought it again: the weather really was wonderful. The sunlight was warm, and the air was peaceful. It was the kind of day where one would love to lie down in a grassy field and take a nap.
Watching him, the guard felt compelled to ask a fundamental question. It was something his lord had said countless times: If you leave doubts unaddressed and fail to communicate, misunderstandings will eventually pile up. Do not let a situation escalate to drawing swords when it could be resolved with a simple question and answer.
The guard did exactly that. “Then why did you come?”
“Because I was curious.”
He had to be referring to the man who had just left. A natural question arose. “About his skills?”
Did that mean they should have fought? The guard wondered.
Squinting against the glare, Krang shielded his eyes with his hand and looked up at the sky. It was a clear blue, dotted with scattered clouds.
Nice.
With that thought, Krang replied, “I was curious to see if he had changed.”
Krang snickered again as he spoke. The guard tilted his head in confusion but left it at that. He couldn’t ask about every single detail. He didn’t need to know all of Krang’s inner thoughts. It was enough that his lord had needed to confirm something, had confirmed it, and was satisfied.
That fact alone was what mattered.
“Yes, I see.”
“Yeah.”
Krang valued the man named Encrid highly. More than anyone else who knew him. In fact, more than Encrid valued himself.
‘If only one can remain so unchanged.’
The sight of someone marching forward without changing captivates those around them. It commands attention, seizes hearts, and exerts influence. Reflecting on Krang’s own philosophy, exerting such influence was an incredibly grand feat.
‘If only he had gone into politics.’
A man who could have established a great house was instead swinging a sword, dreaming of becoming a knight. A knight was one who stood at the pinnacle of martial power. So, what would happen if a man like that became a knight?
It didn't matter. His attitude was steadfast. Unchanging. He would simply walk his own path.
Krang was satisfied because he had confirmed this. Indeed, his friend Encrid had not changed. He sought to become a knight, while Krang sought to lead the kingdom.
“Is a continent without war truly possible?”
“If you desire it, my lord.”
“Easier said than done.”
Krang chuckled and patted the guard’s shoulder. He was back to his usual self. Yet, was it just the guard’s imagination that his lord’s shoulders seemed slightly more relaxed than usual?
Krang walked on. “Let’s go. If we don’t want to die, we still have a lot of struggling left to do.”
It was a truth the guard knew all too well.
“Yes, my lord.”
Leaving the sunlight behind them, the guard followed in Krang’s footsteps.
*
“The throne shouldn’t be occupied by someone who wants it, but by someone who dreads it,” Encrid said as they walked back.
Krais corrected him. “To be precise, it’s best if someone who knows what they’re doing sits on it. A fool who doesn’t even know what he’s doing can’t even beg properly, let alone sit on a throne.”
He wove a continental proverb into his reply: Even if you want to become a beggar, you cannot be one if you do not know the trade.
Encrid’s words were an answer to the question Marcus had posed. It wasn't a path to walk out of sheer, endless desire, but one to tread while understanding its weight.
“In that sense, he’s quite an impressive man.”
“You don’t think he’s just stupid?”
Encrid’s question carried a deeper implication, and Krais understood it. “No, definitely not.”
Krais speculated on why Krang had come all this way. What else could the reason be?
‘He came to see this guy.’
The reason he wanted to see Encrid? Because he was a man making a name for himself? Because he had gotten a bit famous lately? Krais didn’t know for sure, but it wouldn't be for such trivial reasons.
Then what had Krang sacrificed just to see their captain? Time, location, information, and position.
“It must be dangerous, right?” Encrid asked out of the blue.
He had sensed the danger that would arise from a man like Krang coming here. No, he had deduced and grasped it.
As expected, the Captain’s mind works fast.
“Yes,” Krais replied. “I don’t know if he’ll even make it out alive. He said he was heading to the royal palace, right?”
Krang had indeed mentioned that. He was returning to the palace now, and he expected the journey to be treacherous. Under such circumstances, he had gone out of his way to come to the Border Guard. Whatever his reason, he had taken a massive risk.
The Border Guard outpost Krais had established had brought about an explosive development in commerce. With the involvement of the Lockfried Merchant Guild, trade had literally exploded. Even though this had all happened in just a month or two, the city was bustling.
That meant a massive influx of people. And a large crowd meant it was easy for those with ill intentions to slip in.
‘We can’t block all the spies anyway.’
Krais had only fortified the defenses of key facilities. As for the rest? He left them alone for now. He planned to expand the information guild later to crack down internally, but that wasn't a priority yet.
If Krang’s life was still under threat? He naturally assumed it was.
Even now, Encrid was muttering aloud, listing the observations that had formed his judgment.
“That guard shifted his stance. He was tensed up, ready to move at any second. Seeing how he won’t touch any food or water unless it’s prepared beforehand, he must have gone through a lot of trouble. And since he’s traveling without any hidden guards, it doesn’t seem like he has many people around him.”
If so, there was currently no place more dangerous for a man like Krang than the Border Guard. The moment he left, assassins might very well assault his carriage.
Krais nodded as he listened. He also knew why his captain was saying this.
“If you want to do it, why not just do it?”
Who was the commander of the Mad Company? A madman with black hair and blue eyes. It was Encrid.
“I know. But I still need to know why.”
“I agree that he’s too valuable a man to die here,” Krais said.
When they returned to the barracks, Marcus had already arrived. Encrid had already anticipated that assassins—or their brothers, fathers, or grandfathers—would come swarming in. Thus, before Marcus could say anything with his serious eyes, Encrid beat him to the punch.
“We will escort him to the royal palace. Discuss the commission fee with Krais.”
Marcus let out an unintelligible grunt and froze with his mouth agape. The speed of Encrid’s thought process had completely bypassed his expectations.
“Huh? Where are we going?” Rem asked from behind him. He already looked like his body was itching for action.
I should definitely bring Rem along, Encrid thought. In that state, the boy was bound to cause trouble. It was better to keep him close.