Chapter 353: Who is the Craziest?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 353: Who is the Craziest?
"Bring all the ministers to your side."
Krang recalled the Queen's words.
It had been a meeting in a secret location, far from the prying eyes of the audience chamber.
What had been her first question back then?
Krang searched his memory. His thoughts drifted back to the present moment, watching Encrid speak to the wild horse with the mismatched eyes.
"Shall we go?"
Ah, that madman.
Where on earth was he going? And why was the wild horse nodding as if it actually understood him?
The sight triggered the memory of his conversation with the Queen, returning to him word for word.
"Why must I hand over the throne?"
The Queen had asked, and he had answered. He didn't know if it was a brilliant response; he had simply spoken the truth of his heart.
"It is only right that the throne belongs to the one who swears to protect the kingdom."
That was the end of his brief reply.
"There remains one who will ask you that very same question," the Queen had said. She didn't judge his answer. She simply spoke with a calm, detached air.
Krang had bowed his head in respect. The conversation that followed had turned toward the practical.
"Even the nobles have factions. Can you discern them all?"
"Not even a mage who has mastered mind-reading could do that."
Predicting the weather is an incredibly difficult task. It is only possible by reading the flow of water and understanding the subtle shifts in nature. Yet, even a mage capable of such a feat cannot know the human heart, which changes in an instant.
"I can predict how much rain will fall throughout the next month. But I cannot know the heart of the farmer standing before me, tilling the soil at this very moment."
Those were the words of a mage that had once become a famous proverb across the continent. Whether they were ever truly spoken was uncertain, but the meaning was clear.
Someone who swore loyalty yesterday might waver tomorrow for a few gold coins. That is the nature of humanity. This is especially true for politicians; their minds change from morning to afternoon, shift again by evening, and undergo another transformation by dawn.
Prediction is impossible.
How could one possibly discern every single shift in the human heart?
However, guiding them was possible—through blackmail, threats, promises of reward, and by exploiting their desires and needs. Even if a mage could not do it, a strategist who specialized in the art of manipulation could read an opponent’s mind. It was a talent born of insight rather than the mystery of spells.
Identify the factions. Bring all the ministers to my side.
He understood the Queen's intent. But could he truly fill the ranks of the ministers—those who crowded the audience chamber—with his own people?
It was a monumental task. Any ordinary person would ask if such a thing was even possible.
How many factions currently infested the Naurilia royal palace? Even the Queen likely didn't know the full extent. There were those who had become lackeys for the great merchant guilds; nobles gathering to dream of founding their own nations on their estates; those who had sworn loyalty to other high lords. And amidst them all, the few who steadfastly served the royal family.
None of them were on Krang's side.
It was difficult—incredibly so.
But...
The process will be grueling, and grueling still.
It certainly would be. Yet, there was a way. Krang had nodded upon hearing the Queen's words.
"As you command."
"I pray the Goddess of Fortune remains by your side."
The deity the Queen of Naurilia worshipped was the God of Scales, who governed the sun and moon—a god of justice and fairness, leaning neither left nor right. Yet, the Queen had invoked the Goddess of Fortune. That was how arduous she expected Krang's future to be.
"May fortune favor you. May the fairness of the Scales be with you," Krang had replied, concluding the conversation by invoking the god his sister worshipped.
The Queen had no children. Therefore, she could have no children. Krang was a child fathered by the previous king in his twilight years. What had been the old king's intention in hiding him? At the very least, it hadn't been to prepare him for the throne.
But things had become tangled and twisted. The royal palace had turned into a chaotic marketplace—no, an arena. Some puffed themselves up to threaten others, while others hid daggers behind their backs.
And he was the one who had stepped into the ring.
Bring the ministers to your side.
The phrase had haunted him ever since he met the Queen. To achieve this, Krang wrestled with dozens of dilemmas and made dozens of decisions every single day. There was a way; it was just that the process was agonizing. Because of that, he suffered from a constant headache that felt as if his skull were splitting open.
Although the pain had subsided slightly after he burst into laughter upon seeing Encrid, a dull ache still throbbed in his temples. Krang was used to it. This was the path he had chosen—a bed of thorns. He knew it well, but he had no intention of turning back.
Hadn't the man before him shown him the way?
'What is it you want to be?'
'A knight.'
He had asked, and he had received his answer. It wasn't laughable. It was far more refreshing to hear than the fact that he—a man who had spent his days idly reciting poetry in a frontier manor—was now aiming for the throne. Above all, it was a statement filled with absolute sincerity.
The words of the Queen and Encrid swirled in Krang's mind. It could have been overwhelming, but he felt a strange calm. His headache didn't worsen. For the past fortnight, despite the constant threat of assassins, Krang had felt an unprecedented sense of peace.
That was entirely thanks to the capabilities of his companions.
Was it because of that? Because his mind had finally found some breathing room?
"I'm mounting."
Encrid spoke to the horse as he approached the wild stallion. He leaped lightly, and the horse didn't even bother to lower its body.
Encrid kicked off the ground, launching himself into the air. His body floated sideways; leaning his upper body forward, he extended his legs backward in a peculiar, athletic vault. He seemed to pause for a heartbeat directly above the wild horse before settling smoothly onto its back.
It was an astonishing feat of physical control—launching with precise force, pausing at the peak of the jump, and mounting without even touching the mane.
Just like that, the weight of a fully equipped man settled onto the odd-eyed stallion. There was a dull thud, but the wild horse didn't flinch. It stood as firm as a statue. The horse's endurance was surprising, but the man's technique was even more remarkable.
"What are you doing?" Rem asked from behind.
Ragna watched silently, Dunchabel looked on with curiosity, and Sachsen observed with a strange glint in his eyes.
"I'll be back."
Without looking back, Encrid vanished.
Boom!
Krang's jaw dropped. What on earth was that? What kind of horse tore up the ground as it ran?
The wild horse kicked off and sprinted at a speed incomparable to any ordinary steed. Explosive bursts echoed as the ground ruptured beneath its hooves, and in an instant, horse and rider became a single, streaking line. Encrid leaned low, looking as if he had fused with the beast.
The moment he saw that, Krang felt half of his worries vanish. Shock aside, he felt a sudden sense of liberation. He had agonized over whether there was a better answer, even though the path was already set. He had racked his brain until it bled.
"Ha."
Krang let out a hollow laugh. Encrid didn't bother with such worries. He wasn't going out there just to catch the archers visible in the distance; it was more like he was running simply because the horse wanted to run.
"He's a madman. That guy," Krang said.
"You're just realizing that now?" the gray-haired barbarian chimed in from beside him.
"Isn't he your captain?"
"He is. But crazy is crazy. You'd better watch out. All of them are a bit off up here." Rem tapped his temple and spun his finger in a circle, lump-summing the entire squad into the same category as Encrid.
Hearing this, Ragna turned around. He had been watching the direction Encrid had bolted, but he couldn't let Rem's words slide.
"His hobby is splitting people's heads open with an axe. He doesn't care if they're ally or foe, so keep that in mind."
"Don't fall for it," Sachsen added. "That guy harbors a lazy demon inside him."
"Look who's talking," Rem countered. "That guy has dozens of sly wildcats inside him, so be even more careful around him. I highly recommend keeping your distance. Don't forget that bastard might try to pull something on you, too."
"Wow, you're one to talk," Dunchabel said, shaking her head at his audacity. "That one is just a pitiful beastman with a head injury. He got hurt when he was young, so please be understanding."
"Who has a head injury?!" Rem barked.
Ah, these collectively insane bastards.
Krang was a man of enough character not to voice his inner thoughts.
"Isn't this a bad time to be bickering?"
It was enough to divert their attention. Before he knew it, Krang's tone had regained the liveliness it had when he first met Encrid. If his previous tone had been a mask of gravity, this was his true voice.
"Anyway, just watch out," Rem warned, giving Krang one final glance before turning away.
Krang looked back toward the path where Encrid had vanished. That sprint had thrown all his worries to the wind. His mind, which had been shrouded in a thick mist, cleared completely.
Act instead of agonizing.
The dozens of unresolved problems that had piled up on his way to the royal palace vanished in an instant. His headache disappeared with them. He felt refreshed, like waking up from a deep sleep to greet the morning sun. Conveniently, the sun was shining brightly, illuminating the road ahead.
"He sure can run," Krang said, sounding impressed. The horse and rider, fused into one, were now a mere speck on the horizon.
"Right? They said it was a wild horse, but it sure runs well with a person on its back, doesn't it?"
Krang wondered why this fellow named Rem kept lingering by his side. Honestly, he wished the man would back off a bit. Because in Krang's eyes, Rem seemed to be the craziest of them all.
*
It wasn't that Encrid actually understood what Odd-Eye was saying. To communicate with a beast like this, one would usually need a druid.
Esther knew this. The panther's half-closed eyes swept over Encrid's back. She knew that what Encrid was doing had nothing to do with magic or spells. Encrid was reading the wild horse through sheer intuition. It was only possible because Odd-Eye's intelligence was far beyond that of an ordinary beast.
Odd-Eye clearly expressed what he wanted and what he intended to do through his whinnies, gestures, and actions.
Neigh.
Encrid understood and mounted him. This was right after he had signaled Rem to protect Krang. If left to their own devices, those bastards might just stand by and watch Krang die while they joked around.
As his weight settled onto Odd-Eye, he felt a burning power that couldn't be found in an ordinary mount. It was an intangible energy radiating from the horse's mane and muscles.
Will?
At the very least, it was something similar. It felt like the sensations he experienced through the Will of Rejection, momentary acceleration, and the Crushing Sword.
"What are you?" Encrid whispered.
The horse's will was conveyed directly. I'm going to run.
Encrid immediately lowered his posture, and Odd-Eye bolted.
Boom!
Have you ever seen a horse sprint while rupturing the ground beneath it? I'm riding one right now.
It was too fast. Their surroundings blurred into streaks of color. It felt as if Encrid had activated his Will to maintain a prolonged burst of acceleration. Adapting wasn't difficult.
"Crazy!"
Before long, they caught up to the rear of the archers. One of them shrieked in terror. The horse the archer rode was a fine steed, but it was nothing compared to a creature that was practically a half-demonic beast.
Odd-Eye instantly closed the distance and adjusted his speed. Bending and extending his joints, he slowed just enough to pull alongside the target, then rammed the other horse with his massive body.
Crash!
From the archer's perspective, the world tilted sideways the instant he yelled. The charge had been swift and relentless. Despite the collision, Encrid felt almost no impact; Odd-Eye had absorbed and deflected the shock with his own body.
Crazy Odd-Eye.
Thinking this, Encrid threw a cheap dagger. The blade flew with a sharp whoosh and embedded itself in the archer's neck.
"Let's keep going."
Neigh!
Odd-Eye replied as he ran. It sounded like an acknowledgment. There was no telling why the horse had suddenly decided to carry him. Had seeing those fleeing bastards sparked a competitive fire?
Encrid's guess was correct. Odd-Eye, who despised his own name, did not like the sight of those bastards leisurely fleeing before him. It was as if their retreating figures were saying, 'You can't catch us.' It was a trivial reason, but to a beast that lived to run, it was a matter of pride.
"Let's go."
Encrid took down four more archers. After that, no further attempts were made. Even when returning to the group, Odd-Eye ran twice as fast as any other horse, yet came to a stop as gently as a falling feather. He was a born runner.
"Good work. Did that horse actually let you ride him?" Krang asked the moment they returned.
Encrid noticed that Krang's tone had changed. He seemed more at ease. Up until now, he had been acting as if he had swallowed a stone.
This looks better on him.
Once Encrid dismounted and they set off again, Krang spoke to him.
"What are you going to do once you become a knight?"
"I think I'll end the war."
Krang's pupils contracted. "A mere knight?"
Could a knight really be called "mere"? It was a remark that could only come from someone of great ambition.
"Why? Am I not allowed to?"
"No." Krang shook his head. He couldn't help it. Their dreams were the same. But to end the war, Krang would have to stir things up even more fiercely and on a grander scale. It felt contradictory.
Well, that was just how it was. He had no more worries now. Funnily enough, watching a man like Encrid sprint on a wild horse made his political anxieties feel utterly pointless.
"Let's clash swords sometime later," Krang said.
"Anytime."
As if the threat of assassination was no longer a concern, Krang conversed with everyone. He grew close to the squad quickly—or at least, he was able to exchange banter with each of them.
"I heard you get lost easily?" he asked Ragna.
"That is not true. I simply value going the right way over going fast."
"You're really a bit gloomy," Krang told Sachsen while they were eating dinner. "If the barbarian threatened you into doing this, you can wave a carrot."
"I heard your hobby is splitting your superior's head with an axe?" he asked Rem, laughing.
"Who said that? That's not a hobby, it's my specialty."
"I think you're a bit crazy," Krang noted.
"To be honest, do you know who's the craziest?" Rem whispered. "The captain is the absolute craziest."
"Are you really a beastman? Not a weretiger?" Krang teased Dunchabel.
"My transformation is a white lion. If you say that again, I might just bite you."
"Enki will get mad."
"...You're a bit sly. Were you always like this?"
Chatting away, they soon saw the capital of Naurilia on the horizon. After a fortnight of hard riding, they had finally arrived.
"Why won't he let me ride?" Rem grumbled. He had repeatedly tried to mount Odd-Eye, but the horse refused to let even Encrid ride him again for normal travel.
At any rate, they had reached the capital. Fortress walls sturdier than those of any other city stretched far to the left and right. This was the heart of Naurilia, the location of the King's bedchamber, the city where the royal palace stood.
The capital, Nauril.
Gazing at the city, Krang straightened his back and squared his shoulders. As dawn broke, sunlight spilled over the fortress walls. The stones were a dull dark gray, but they gradually brightened as they caught the light. Having absorbed the sun, the walls would glow faintly to illuminate the city once night fell—a spell passed down from ancient times.
Watching the magnificent sight, Krang corrected his posture.
"I've figured it out."
"What?" Encrid asked, admiring the walls beside him.
Krang replied immediately. "The craziest one is definitely you."
Encrid blinked. What kind of nonsense was this? Had the prince spent too much time around Rem?
Encrid began to worry for Krang's mental state.