Chapter 359: Sachsen Bensino
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 359: Sachsen Bensino
"The biggest issue plaguing the capital right now is the factions. They’ve moved past mere bickering; they’re practically mobilizing for war."
Andrew spoke to the limit of his knowledge, and Encrid synthesized those words with what Rem had told him, piecing the puzzle together in his mind.
"There’s nothing worth buying. Honestly, it’s all just junk."
Those had been the words of Rem after scouting the capital’s markets. There were plenty of people and goods, but if one actually tried to make a purchase...
"I can't sell this. It’s already been claimed by a certain family."
Everything was being treated as military supplies. Weapons and food were no longer circulating freely. Encrid knew exactly what that implied.
They must be stationing their private troops nearby.
The nobles were likely waiting to see how the situation in the capital unfolded. If things went south, they would call their forces inside the walls immediately. The problem was that none of this was happening with the Queen's approval.
"Even the Royal Guard has fractured into several factions. Because of that, the city has descended into absurdity."
"Absurdity?"
Encrid’s habit of echoing the speaker was a deeply ingrained courtesy—a way of showing he was giving them his undivided attention.
Andrew rattled on without pause.
"Yes, absurdity. They’re assassinating each other in broad daylight, and some self-proclaimed Inquisitor is running around arresting anyone they please under the guise of heresy. Lately, there have even been strange animal cries at night, and people are vanishing every few days."
"This is the capital we're talking about."
"I know it’s the capital. It’s a massive city; disappearances aren't exactly rare. But the frequency of these incidents is bizarre. Yet, there isn't a single commander willing to investigate the assassinations. The gate captains are trying their best, but with their hands tied by politics, what can they really do?"
Encrid crossed his arms. Across the worn table, Andrew's face was flushed with agitation. This wasn't a topic one could discuss calmly. Observing that heated expression, Encrid asked, "And in the midst of all this, a member of the royal bloodline has arrived?"
"It’s like throwing fire onto oil. It’s the perfect excuse for the faction nobles, who were only testing the waters, to finally draw their swords. I don't misunderstand his purpose, though. He said he entered the capital to end the faction wars."
End the fight? A natural question arose.
"How?"
Encrid was simply curious about the method. Andrew raised both hands and shrugged.
"I don't know how."
Krang would handle Krang's business.
Then what should Encrid do? What had he looked forward to most when he decided to come to the capital?
Will I have to leave without meeting a single Order Knight?
He wanted an opportunity to fight, to train, and to open his eyes to higher levels of mastery. That was all. Listening to Andrew, it seemed likely that the hidden experts of each noble faction would soon emerge from the shadows. They would leap into the fray, fighting with their lives on the line.
At that thought, a spark of anticipation stirred within him. Just as he had realized while teaching the trainees, entering the royal palace would bring new opportunities. When thinking too deeply yielded no answers, sometimes it was best to simply follow one's heart.
Encrid chose to do just that: stand beside a friend he liked and perform a dance of blades. Despite the warnings he had received, his decision was made.
Was it impulsive?
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Rem asked from beside him. Rem was the type of man who would simply roll with whatever decision Encrid made.
"I was thinking of taking the Queen's head and becoming a faction noble myself," Encrid blurted out, letting his mind wander.
"What, a fight? Sounds great. Count me in."
The lunatic seemed to have heard nothing but the word "fight" in that entire sentence. Classic Rem.
"What did you just say...?" Andrew stammered, startled.
"Just a joke."
After calming Andrew down, Encrid began organizing his next steps. Suddenly, a chilling sensation brushed against his back. He turned instinctively.
In the corner of the drawing room, leaning against a pillar and half-hidden in the shadows, stood Sachsen.
"Hey, want to take a short walk?"
Looking into Sachsen's eyes, Encrid felt the man might cause trouble if left alone. He had seen that look before—it was the expression Rem wore right before they were about to draw their swords in earnest.
In other words, Sachsen looked like he was on the verge of killing someone.
Why so suddenly? Had Sachsen been attacked as well? No, it was something else. Encrid knew it instinctively.
He said he had business at the royal palace.
It had to be because of that.
"Sure," Encrid replied.
Sachsen turned and walked outside. It wasn't an illusion; the man was clearly suppressing a violent urge.
"Did that guy take some drugs or something?" Rem muttered.
"I'll be right back."
Encrid followed Sachsen out of the manor and into the shadows. A gust of wind blew past, fluttering their hair. Soon, the two were walking side by side along the outer wall of the estate in the dark of night. Encrid watched the moonlight and the distant glow of a brazier.
"There is something I must do," Sachsen spoke first.
"Mhm, I see," Encrid nodded. He knew Sachsen would handle his own affairs.
"To do that, I have to perform a certain task. It’s quite a hassle, so I’m debating it."
"Debating?"
It wasn't a word that usually suited Sachsen. Encrid wondered if there was anything he could actually do to help.
"It involves killing someone," Sachsen said.
Of course it did. Given his current aura, it couldn't be anything else. Encrid thought for a moment before speaking.
"Do your best."
Sachsen wasn't the type to ask for help, and he usually handled things on his own anyway. The response was obvious. Encrid nodded and patted Sachsen on the shoulder.
After a few pats, Encrid turned to head back inside, noticing that Sachsen's eyes looked slightly calmer. Sachsen stopped in his tracks, staring at his captain's back—a back that moved forward, cutting through the starlight.
I knew he wasn't normal, but...
The thought struck him anew. He’s cheering me on? Because he trusts me?
Was it trust? Faith? A flicker of hesitation returned to Sachsen's eyes.
Encrid continued walking. If Rem or Ragna caused trouble, it would be a massive public spectacle. But not Sachsen. The others didn't call him a "sly stray cat" for nothing. Sachsen would do what he had to do—quietly and covertly. That was what Encrid believed.
As Encrid walked away, Sachsen spoke again.
"It’s an enemy. And it’s revenge."
His voice, pitched at just the right volume, reached Encrid’s ears.
"What?"
Encrid turned around. He was a man who always listened. He squared his posture, signaling that he was ready to hear everything. When Sachsen remained silent, Encrid sat down on a stone by the wall, pulled out some seasoned jerky, and retrieved a canteen from his waist.
The scent of strong brandy wafted from the canteen. Sachsen took it and swallowed a mouthful. The hot liquid sent a burning heat surging from his stomach to his throat. It was a potent spirit, but Sachsen wouldn't get drunk. He had chewed on poisonous herbs since childhood to build resistance. A body that could withstand lethal toxins would never succumb to alcohol.
Memories of those days—enduring the bitterness of poison—flashed through his mind. What had driven him to survive all that?
Death had been the beginning. The deaths of his family, his parents, and everyone he knew. He had witnessed death, and then he had weaponized it. That was his path.
Encrid took back the canteen, took a sip, and asked, "Who is your enemy?"
"There was a cabal called the Black Lily," Sachsen began, his voice devoid of sorrow.
*
His father had been cruel, and his mother relentless.
"If necessary, stab even your friend in the back."
Those had been his father’s last words. Sachsen had lived by them ever since. If necessary, he betrayed anyone.
"He's a tough bastard."
Then, he met his master. He endured a life of poison and scars, paving a road of blood to walk upon.
Sachsen had once been the son of a noble house: Sachsen Bensino. The Bensino family had been influential, achieving great success in trade, but his father had craved even greater heights. Was that the mistake? Sachsen didn't care about right or wrong. He had one goal: revenge.
"Hey, you'll die young living like that," his master had chided.
Sachsen didn't listen. He stayed the course.
"When is that kid ever going to act like a human?"
"Is that really something the leader of an assassin guild should say?"
He remembered his master chuckling. "Yeah, I'd rather you get angry. It looks better on you."
It was a trivial memory. He gathered information. His family’s fall hadn't been bad luck; it was a deliberate scheme. He found the name: The Black Lily.
It was a cabal of people whose only purpose was to line their pockets. Some were bandits; others were nobles or ghosts. The first ringleader Sachsen tracked down was a man who had lost everything and hit rock bottom.
"Why did you do it?" Sachsen had asked.
"A reason? Fuck that," the man cackled. "Do you have any idea how much we made by tearing the Bensino family apart? Everyone lives by screwing others over."
The man didn't even value his own life. Slitting his throat would have been a mercy. Instead, Sachsen severed the man's tendons and threw him into a beggars' den during a severe drought. Four days later, the man was torn apart alive.
Everyone lives by screwing others over.
That man had been his father’s "friend."
"Just look forward. There's no need to look back," his mother’s voice echoed in his heart.
He had killed four of the Black Lily's ringleaders. While searching for the fifth, he realized one of them had specifically targeted the Bensino family from the start. The true enemy.
Following clues, he had met Abnayor, who told him to go to the Naurilia royal palace. While Encrid was being attacked and the others were at the market, Sachsen had entered a derelict manor in the residential district.
There, he met the man who had lured him: a white-haired man with a monocle and a cane sword. An assassin.
"You must be from the Dagger of Geor," the man said. He wasn't afraid. He believed he held Sachsen's weakness. "I know what you are looking for. Are you not the heir of the Bensino family?"
Sachsen waited.
"I will give you all the information you desire. In exchange... stab him."
There was no need to ask who "him" was.
"Encrid. Stab him."
The price for the information he had spent his life seeking was the life of his captain.
*
Encrid sat in silence, gazing at the moon. Sachsen had told him of his revenge and the enemy inside the palace, though he omitted the meeting with the white-haired assassin.
"Alright, let's find them," Encrid said. He wasn't joking. He was sincere.
He was willing to help. If Sachsen didn't refuse, Encrid would do his absolute best to see the revenge through. Sachsen knew this. Encrid was just that kind of person.
But could an opponent Sachsen had failed to find for years be caught through mere "effort"? An easier path lay before him. The voices of his past swirled in his head.
If necessary, stab even your friend in the back.
Just look forward.
Everyone lives by screwing others over.
This was the path Sachsen had always walked—a path of blood, blades, and poison. All he had to do was take one more step in the same direction.