Chapter 356: Andrew Barked Back in Desperation
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 356: Andrew Barked Back in Desperation
The six nobles didn't say a single word.
They treated Krang and Encrid as if they weren't even there.
"Wait quietly. Do not open your mouth until you are asked. Do not raise your head to make eye contact, and answer any questions with the utmost sincerity. If Her Majesty calls you, step forward, kneel on one knee, and answer."
Viscount Vantra approached and gave these instructions. Encrid nodded, showing no sign of noticing the faint, gamey odor clinging to the man.
An odor that faint would be impossible to detect unless one was a beastman or had undergone specialized sensory training.
Seeing how Viscount Vantra was the only one stepping forward while the others kept their distance, it seemed he was the one stuck handling all the dirty work.
Encrid felt a sudden pang of concern and asked, "Are you being ostracized?"
Was it that the other nobles were deliberately forcing him to do the grunt work? If so, should he suggest the Viscount try dangling a carrot, the way Sachsen did?
Viscount Vantra didn't even bat an eye at the question.
His mental fortitude was extraordinary; there wasn't a hint of agitation. Perhaps Count Molsen had an eye for talent after all.
Through the Viscount's wide sleeves, well-trained arm muscles were visible. Those were the forearms of a man who had gripped a sword for a long time. The same went for the palms he showed while speaking—they were just like Encrid’s. They were the palms of someone who held a blade even as their skin blistered and tore, over and over again.
"Watch your tongue," Viscount Vantra added in a warning tone.
Encrid simply shrugged.
Perhaps finding the exchange novel, two of the other nobles turned their gaze toward them. Even so, neither spoke.
As they waited, a few of the nobles began to whisper, covering their mouths and speaking into each other's ears. They likely thought they couldn't be heard, but that didn't apply to Encrid and his heightened senses.
When he focused, their conversation became clear.
"What a low-class fellow."
"I heard his skills are on par with an associate knight."
"Did that bastard bring him along just to recommend him for knighthood? A 'thank you' for protecting him all the way here?"
"Look at the state of the ally he brought."
"He does have a face well-suited for rolling around under some noblewoman's skirt."
If Rem had heard this, would he have split their heads open with his axe right then and there? Encrid certainly harbored a subtle dislike for noble trash like them, but he didn't truly care. It wasn't the first time he’d heard such talk.
No matter what they babbled, he could just ignore it.
As Encrid let the insults go in one ear and out the other, he glanced to his side. Krang was standing there indifferently. His posture was steady, but judging by his expression alone, he looked as if he were waiting with his arms crossed and his weight shifted to one leg.
The Queen appeared shortly after.
"Her Majesty the Queen enters!"
Naturally, she did not come alone. Her escorts, the Royal Guard, entered with her and took their positions by the audience chamber doors and the rear entrance.
Is painting the tips of the spears gold a matter of personal taste?
The thought occurred to Encrid out of nowhere. Of course, it likely wasn't. It was a display of authority. Since the Royal Guard also served a ceremonial purpose, they carried weapons adorned with gold for the spectacle. A parade of soldiers in gold helmets with gold spears would certainly look impressive.
An untimely curiosity reared its head, but he quickly dismissed it. What did it matter to him?
"Is it you?"
As soon as she arrived, the Queen looked at Encrid and spoke.
Rather than the ruler of a nation, she seemed more like an affectionate, cheerful woman. Encrid was reminded of the older tavern maid who had looked after him when he was young.
One was the ruler of a kingdom. The other was a maid who carried beer mugs. Though their social status was worlds apart and they shared no physical resemblance, Encrid felt a subtle similarity between the two.
"Lower your head," Viscount Vantra chided from the side.
Should I?
"Leave him be," the Queen intervened. She stared at Encrid’s face for a moment before speaking. "You have a pleasing face."
Her tone was one of pure admiration for his looks, rather than any carnal desire.
Encrid had nothing to say. He couldn't exactly reply, 'You are quite plump, Your Majesty.'
Indeed, the Queen was not the thin, frail type. She was reasonably stout and wore a tiara symbolizing her crown.
And beside her was a familiar face—or more accurately, a familiar Frok.
Croak.
The Frok puffed out her cheeks for a moment. That was likely her way of smiling.
Encrid greeted her with his eyes.
Luagarne. She had been with him when he obtained the Nameless Orthodox Sword Style, had helped him train in it, and was a Frok who flew into a rage whenever she saw a cultist.
"Do you have no manners?" another noble snapped.
That alone made the situation obvious. The Queen’s authority was a mess. The very fact that a mere noble dared to step forward after the Queen had given her permission proved it. Encrid noticed this as well but let it slide.
"We are gathered here to verify if you truly possess royal blood, are we not? State your name."
As if she hadn't even heard the noble who spoke up, the Queen turned her gaze to Krang. Encrid didn't even have a chance to step forward and kneel. She naturally shifted the focus, moving to the main point. The noble who had stepped forward couldn't press Encrid any further.
Encrid slipped out of the spotlight as Krang took a step forward. The noble who had been glaring at Encrid now directed his malice toward Krang.
What a spineless wretch, Encrid thought. If he decided to show malice, he shouldn't have shifted his gaze so easily.
Encrid watched Krang’s approach. His steps were... dignified. There was a deliberate process to the way Krang walked and raised his head to meet the Queen's eyes. Even though Krang stood below the throne, it looked as if he were meeting her on equal footing.
Such was the presence, momentum, and confidence that dwelled within him. Though his clothes were dusty from travel and his hair was disheveled, none of that mattered. He possessed true grace and majesty.
"Kudianat Landius Nauril is here," Krang spoke.
His voice echoed through the great hall, resonating off the walls and sending a deep vibration through the room.
"Come forward," the Queen said.
An old woman wearing a flowing robe stepped forward from behind her. She took the pendant from Krang and compared it with the one in her hand.
"It is correct."
Next came the process of verifying Krang’s blood using a spell. Encrid simply watched.
"It is true. You are of my blood. I acknowledge you in the name of the Queen. If the ministers have any objections, speak now."
The group of nobles did not object. Instead, they spoke with their eyes.
As if anyone didn't know he was of royal blood.
It's all because the previous king couldn't break his bad habits.
They already knew. Since they were already sending groups of assassins, what would they gain by questioning Krang’s authenticity now? The pendant and the mage’s verification were just formalities. In a way, it felt like watching a rehearsed play.
After that, the Queen announced she was leaving due to official duties. The ministers dispersed quickly. Soon, Krang and Encrid were the last to leave the audience chamber.
The nobles ignored them with utter indifference. They didn't even spare them a glance as they left. Even the fellow who had complained about manners didn't flap his gums anymore.
As they walked out, Encrid spoke. It was none of his business, but the atmosphere was strange.
"They all seem completely uninterested."
Even though a new line of succession had been established and Krang had shown such dignity, why did those nobles show absolutely no interest in him?
"Because the nobles who acknowledge me aren't here, and only those who want to kill me have gathered."
Understanding the underlying meaning, Encrid asked, "Since you're going to die soon anyway, there's no need to waste their breath on you?"
"They are practical people," Krang chuckled.
Was it normal to laugh when your life was on the line? His face was now filled only with playfulness, the majesty from earlier completely gone.
Encrid spoke with concern. "Don't get too close to Rem."
"I'll say it again—in my eyes, you're the craziest one here."
"I'm serious. Avoid talking to Rem as much as possible."
He's been corrupted. Definitely corrupted.
Once they stepped outside the audience chamber...
"Enki."
Luagarne, the Frok, called out to him.
"Have you been well?"
As she spoke, the Frok brought the edge of her hand down in a vertical strike. Encrid raised his hand to block, reading the movement.
A feint.
More important than the hand striking from above was her foot. The Frok's foot pushed off the floor as she approached, sliding over the thick carpet to close the distance.
Capturing Sword activated on its own.
In sync with her footsteps, her slippery hand darted and bent, thrusting and striking. Encrid blocked them all. Since her skin was slippery, it was actually easier to deflect. There was no killing intent, nor even any real force behind the blows; it was just a battle of wits played for fun.
The two soldiers guarding the audience chamber watched them, their eyes wide. The level of technique shown in their "play" was remarkably high.
"If we fought now, I would lose. You have improved a lot," Luagarne marveled. She withdrew her hand, puffing out her cheeks with a croak.
It was true. Since he had improved this much, he would have been able to crush the heads of those cultist bastards even if they invaded. Recalling that made her feel good again, and two more croaks escaped her.
"Is this appropriate in front of the prince?" Encrid asked.
"No human demands manners from a Frok."
"I agree," Krang chimed in. He then turned to Encrid. "Did you two know each other?"
"She's a Frok who visited the Border Guard before."
No sooner had Encrid answered than the Frok twitched her cheeks. "Is our relationship something to be spoken of so lightly?"
"Then what is it?"
"I taught you swordsmanship, and we fought together. We even explored ruins—we almost got trapped in there if things had gone wrong."
"It sounds like a long story," Krang remarked.
"Yes, it probably is. By the way, where did everyone else go?" Encrid asked, nodding.
Not a single member of his party was in sight. Had some knights dragged them away? Not that they were the type to be dragged away quietly. Even if they were told to rest inside the palace, they weren't the type to easily comply.
Regardless of Encrid’s thoughts, the gazes of the two Royal Guards grew complicated. Why did this man named Encrid speak so casually to the prince, yet use polite language with the Frok? And why was no one questioning it?
"I knew you would come here eventually, Captain."
A voice suddenly called out. Encrid turned his head.
"Hmm?"
This was truly unexpected. He hadn't expected to meet anyone else he knew here besides Marcus or Luagarne. Even if he did, he had assumed it wouldn't be a pleasant encounter.
"You."
"Calling a noble 'you'—how insolent," the man spoke with a laugh. His words were laced with playfulness.
"And yet, the one standing right in front of you is a prince," Krang added.
"Yes, Your Highness. Have you been well?"
"Thanks to you."
It was a conversation that took place in an instant, sparked by that single word, "You."
"Let's move elsewhere. I've invited everyone to my mansion," the speaker said. He was a familiar face.
"Andrew."
Encrid spoke his name.
"Andrew Gardner, a noble."
"And I am a prince."
"Your Highness, did you always enjoy joking so much?" Andrew said, blinking.
To Encrid’s eyes, Krang and Andrew looked like they knew each other. And indeed they did. Andrew had dreamed of his family's revival, and for that, instead of joining an existing faction, he had staked his family's fate on Krang.
After parting ways with Encrid, Andrew had gone through an adventure of his own to reach this place. He had now become Baronet Andrew Gardner and proudly owned a mansion in the capital.
"I'm surprised," Encrid said in his usual flat tone.
"Your face doesn't look surprised at all."
"I really am surprised."
"Then will you stay at Baronet Gardner's mansion?" Luagarne asked. Before Encrid could say anything, Andrew answered first.
"Please do. It will be better than staying at an inn."
There was no reason to refuse.
"Then I'll see you later. I have a lot of work to do as well," Luagarne said, waving her round fingers. It was a human-style greeting. Encrid waved back.
"Let's talk about the rest on the way. What about you, Lord Krang?"
"I must remain in the palace. There will be a party celebrating my return in a few days, so I have much to prepare."
A party. It was something entirely not to Encrid’s taste. Krang slipped away before even waiting for an answer.
Encrid stared at Andrew and realized the man had grown. His stubble was thicker, and there was a new scar under his right eye. Perhaps he no longer needed a protector, as he was alone. Since Encrid had disarmed upon entering the palace, Andrew was likewise empty-handed.
"Where is Mac?"
"He's at the mansion."
Perhaps he had stopped playing the nanny and was now acting as a butler.
"Alright, let's go."
*
Andrew summarized his recent life simply.
"I reclaimed my noble title through a life-or-death commission, but the pushback since then has been no joke. I'm still on an adventure, even now."
There was no need for the details. Whether he had saved up enough Krona in the meantime, he had a proper house in the capital—though it lacked a garden. It was a three-story building. The first floor had a drawing room and a dining room, while the bedrooms started from the second floor, with more than ten rooms in total.
The house was spacious. When they arrived, Encrid saw his companions, including Rem.
"Well, well, this bastard Andrew has really made it big," Rem said, munching on snacks in the middle of the drawing room.
The capital was a logistics hub. Naturally, its culinary culture was highly developed, especially its desserts. Rem nodded as he chewed.
"Rem hasn't changed a bit," Andrew said from behind.
Esther was dozing off on a wool cushion. The rest were gathered in the drawing room. Ragna was standing by the window, and in front of him, several men were gathered, training with clubs.
"Private soldiers?" Encrid asked.
"Owning private soldiers is forbidden within the capital."
"Then what are they?"
"They are students learning swordsmanship from me."
"From whom?"
"From me."
"Who?" Rem asked, still eating.
"Teaching what?" Ragna added, turning his head.
Sachsen said nothing but silently stared at Andrew.
"You'll be shocked when you see how much my skills have improved," Andrew declared.
Encrid nodded. He must have improved. Of course he had. In his eyes, Andrew was talented.
"I'm sure you have."
Encrid’s voice was somewhat lifeless. Hearing that, Andrew's mouth curved into a smile. His eyes weren't smiling, only his lips twisting upward. Encrid had achieved great feats, but Andrew had also overcome formidable obstacles.
"How about a spar?" Andrew was the first to suggest it.
Encrid nodded once more. Though all sorts of things had happened—Andrew welcoming him, meeting the Queen—nothing was as welcome as those words right now.
"Are you fine with getting beaten and crying in front of your students?" Encrid asked, expressing genuine concern for his former squad member.
"Fuck, bring it on!" Andrew barked back in desperation.