Chapter 396: Next
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 396: Next
Edin Molsen’s head throbbed from the acrid stench of burning oil inside the lantern.
If he stayed like this much longer, he’d likely suffocate from the lack of fresh air before anything else happened to him. He didn't even need to be tortured or beaten to death.
'Damn it.'
After a silent curse, a sudden wave of worry for his younger sister pierced his mind.
Lifting his head, he saw the bastard sitting directly across from him with his legs crossed. The man had large, striking eyes and was handsome enough to make even other men look twice. It was a face Edin knew well—a man named Krais from the Mad Company.
He had never dreamed this bastard would plant a watcher so close to him and his sister. Since resentment wouldn't change his current predicament, he asked a practical, realistic question.
"My sister?"
"She is perfectly fine. She doesn't eat much, but I suppose that's her secret to maintaining her figure."
His smooth, nonchalant tone was incredibly grating.
"If you had run away right before the civil war broke out, none of this would have happened."
Edin wanted to snap back that he had intended to do exactly that, but he bit his tongue. How could he have avoided this when he was kept in the dark?
He hadn't known that his father, the so-called King of the Frontier, had planned a civil war and was already executing it. He knew now, of course, but it wasn't a topic he could speak of lightly. No matter what anyone said, the man was still Edin's father.
Treason meant a joint execution—the entire bloodline beheaded.
But stand against his father? That was out of the question. Edin knew the sheer power the man possessed. Count Molsen was not a man to fight a losing battle.
Edin Molsen had only wanted to live quietly in hiding somewhere with his sister. Whether it was the East or the North, it didn't matter. That was why he had endured being beaten to a pulp by that bastard Encrid. He had even tried to persuade his father by suggesting his sister could seduce Encrid.
Thinking back on it now, it was clear his father hadn't cared about him at all.
'Not that he would have let us run away, either.'
"Just kill me," Edin said flatly.
These people were his father's enemies; they had no reason to keep him alive. Value as a hostage? Ridiculous. His father, of all people, wouldn't care.
Dean Molsen had stopped seeming human a long time ago. His coldness was on par with the Permafrost, the land of eternal ice. It wasn't always visible on the surface, but if you watched him closely, you could see an inhuman chill.
'Since when had he been like that?'
Edin didn't know. It was beyond his comprehension. At some point, his father had simply changed.
"Kill you? Why would I do that?" Krais shook his head and slapped his thigh with a loud smack. "Now, let's do this."
Krais knew how to handle people. He was quick-witted and excellent at reading the room. He had known for a long time that Edin Molsen held zero value as a hostage. Count Molsen didn't care about the son in front of him in the slightest. Nor did he care about the daughter he had brought along disguised as a man.
While their family dynamics were none of his business, one thing was certain.
'Edin Molsen wants to run away.'
The boy's desires were transparent. There was no need for torture.
"Tell me everything you know, and then go to Martai. I'll arrange a new identity and a house for you. You probably planned to establish yourself by selling the jewels and accessories you brought, but do you really think you can easily liquidate those things? You'd be lucky not to get stabbed by a robber in the middle of the night."
Krais had earned Krona by hiding people before. He was resourceful enough that he had once considered making a career out of it. He had given it up because the risk of getting a knife in the back or being thrown into prison was too high, but his old skills hadn't rusted. It was a task he could pull off through the Gilpin Guild, so it wasn't particularly difficult.
"...You're letting me live?" Edin's eyes were clouded with suspicion.
'Right, I wouldn't believe it easily either.'
Krais offered a pledge that the other man could reasonably accept.
"I swear on my captain's honor."
The captain was Encrid. In the Border Guard, the weight of Encrid's name was incomparable to anything else. Even if people didn't know the Castellan's name, every child on the street knew the name Encrid.
"And if this is a lie?"
"Do you have any other choice?"
Edin had none. He either had to trust him and speak, or simply die.
"Sigh, damn it. I'm completely cornered." Edin Molsen finally relented and told him what he knew. In truth, the information wasn't even important to him anymore. He didn't know the fine details anyway. "There are Five Weapons in the county."
"Five people, not five objects?"
"It refers to five warriors who use different weapons."
The explanation was brief. The Count's forces were divided into four divisions, each led by a commander they called a general. The rest of the organization mirrored the Kingdom's structure. The four generals and the warrior who guarded the Count—those were the Five Weapons raised by Molsen.
They were five monsters who had proven themselves through sheer martial might.
Malten, the mute warrior who wielded a hammer.
Benukt, the giant who used his own body as a weapon.
Jalban, who wielded dual spears with acrobatic skill.
Banat, the Leaf Sword Elf.
Liebart, a guardian warrior from a fallen noble family.
"Every single one of them is skilled enough to join a knight order. And they are all fiercely loyal to the Count."
Just thinking about them made Edin's mouth run dry. Every last one of them was barely human. Count Molsen was a persistent and insidious man. That was why no one knew the true strength he had hidden away.
"Did he perhaps collude with cultists?" Krais asked, suspecting the Count might have brought in Azpen or some other group.
"There was no need for that. He has his territorial army," Edin said.
The relaxed expression on Krais's face vanished instantly. No long explanation was needed.
"He built a monstrous army."
While the Border Guard was holding off Azpen, and while the Kingdom was blocking the Demon Realm and the South, Count Molsen had remained quiet. He hadn't caused any major trouble. Despite being called the King of the Frontier, he hadn't made any big waves.
That was how he had amassed his power.
And was that really everything? From that insidious bastard? He had to have more hidden cards. It was a conviction born of deep suspicion.
With a sudden scrape, Krais kicked back his chair and stood up, sending it clattering to the floor. Watching this, Edin closed his eyes. The die was cast, and Edin felt he already knew what number it would show.
He heard Krais rush outside and shout at the top of his lungs.
"Audin! Captain Sinar! Battalion Commander Graham! We must organize reinforcements immediately!"
*
"Knocking out the sheriff like that was a mistake."
The words came from a guild master who had attached himself to Encrid's side. It was annoying, but Encrid let it slide. The man had approached him with something resembling goodwill. He was someone who had supported them with various weapons and equipment, even following them all the way to the Nauril Plains. He had even mentioned that he used to wield a sword in his youth—an expression of his will to fight in the King's army.
"A mistake?" Andrew, who was following behind, reacted as if the words rubbed him the wrong way.
"I know you're skilled, but you must know, right? Nothing is as important as reputation," the guild master spoke defensively.
Andrew snorted. The guild master scowled for a moment before quickly smoothing his expression. His opponent was the head of the Gardner family, a rising new noble. Furthermore, he had heard that the five trainees behind him were all exceptionally skilled.
Encrid didn't care what the tagalong guild master said. He knew exactly why people talked like that. It was because none of the people who had actually witnessed what Encrid did had spoken of it.
Aisia, who knew the situation, wasn't the type to gossip. Rem's specialty was chatting, but there was no one here for him to talk to. Ragna and Sachsen went without saying. And it wasn't as if Esther would step forward and say, "This is the man who saved your King."
Fat chance.
Of course, there were those who had seen Encrid—those who had opposed him when he saved Krang. They had witnessed his swordsmanship cut down a squire in a single blow, but they had fled immediately. They had no opportunity to speak. Krang hadn't said much, and neither had Matthew.
However, rumors had begun to spread, thanks to Squire Ropode and the palace maids. Because of them, the word was getting out: the Border Guard hero named Encrid was the real deal. The previous talk of him being a windbag or a useless husk was slowly fading.
But not all nobles acknowledged him yet.
So what?
Encrid didn't care in the slightest. None of the people by his side were the type to care about such things either. Unless someone came over to mock them, why bother?
Encrid was far more interested in other matters. He had too much to think about and too much to do. All the way to the Nauril Plains, Encrid reflected on everything that had happened.
"I am Ingis of the Red Cloak Knights. I have a feeling we'll meet again."
The knight named Ingis had sought Encrid out separately before leaving.
"Next time, I hope we can at least have a spar."
Even though Encrid hadn't done anything in particular, Ingis's attention had been drawn to him.
"But why do you want to fight our captain?" Rem had asked out of curiosity. Usually, Encrid was the one to initiate a fight, so the reverse was rare.
"My intuition is quite sharp, so I can tell. You are an interesting man," Ingis had said seriously, brushing back his hair.
In Encrid's eyes, the man seemed highly unusual.
"Well then, farewell." He had left just like that, mentioning trouble in the South and repeating his wish to meet again.
"With each passing day, you become a man more worthy of admiration."
Afterward, Luagarne had visited. She crossed swords with him a few times and said, "With my current skills, I can no longer match you."
Her ankle was still not fully healed. No matter how much of a Frog Kin she was, an ankle wouldn't just grow back in a day. Even so, the difference in their skills was stark.
"Still, it seems I have some things left to teach you."
For five days, Luagarne helped him refine his Orthodox Sword forms. Encrid, naturally, learned diligently.
'Did I do it like this back then?'
Encrid moved his hand like a blade as they marched, mentally reviewing his swordsmanship. It was a daily routine. Everyone saw it but let him be. Since he didn't have any soldiers under his direct command, the people watching him were always the same: Ragna, Sachsen, Dunchabel, Rem, and Andrew.
The road to the Nauril Plains was smooth. There were no ambushes. The scouts moved constantly, reporting the enemy's movements. Even then, Encrid did nothing but reflect on what he had refined over the past month.
A month. Normally, it was a short time, but this month was different.
"You've improved a lot." He saw the look in Ragna's eyes change.
"Whew, come at me. I'll go half-serious on you," Rem had said, his own seriousness drawn out.
"This is truly ridiculous." Aisia, who had visited after recovering, shook her head. She couldn't believe how his skills could improve so much in just a few days.
"It's hard to find traces of your former self now," Sachsen had said. It was high praise.
For a month, Encrid barely spoke. He moved forward, solely swinging his sword. Was it because of the stimulation the Ferryman had given him? That wasn't all. In Encrid's mind, the Associate Knight of the Severed Pulse constantly leaped out.
Encrid threw questions deep into his own mind, over and over again.
'What if I had fought to the very end?'
He obtained answers from his repeated questions. No, he already knew the answer. The experience gained through the "today" he had repeated countless times was a vision that had only opened up now, after walking and walking to reach this point.
At most, three times—that would be enough. Then, he could surpass him. Therefore, the man was not a wall.
It was a fresh experience. Even though it was an incredibly short time compared to the repeated "todays," it had become a time of a completely different density and concentration. Encrid showed a difference day by day. It was a process of digesting the experience gained from his accumulated "todays," but to others, it was simply a marvel.
"Now, you won't die easily under normal circumstances." That was Rem's conclusion.
And so, they arrived at the Nauril Plains.
Beyond the fields where green sprouts grew tall with the arrival of summer, the enemy army came into view. The forces lined up in rows were dizzyingly numerous.
"There's a hell of a lot of them," Rem spoke first. Ragna nodded, and Sachsen merely tilted his head slightly with his arms crossed.
Dunchabel swept her gaze from left to right. "They must outnumber us three to one."
It was just as she said. The sheer numbers were on a different scale. In truth, the commanders of Krang's army had thought the Count might bring in cultists or pull some other trick. It was a miscalculation. The difference lay purely in the size of the forces. The refined territorial army numbered close to ten thousand. Just by standing and lining up, they overwhelmed them in momentum.
The number of allies prepared for the civil war was roughly three thousand. They were outmatched in both training and numbers. It was a losing battle.
In front of the enemy, the Five Weapons took their positions. Two adjutants stood beside each of them, and their presence was also extraordinary. Though the weather was clear, it felt as if dark clouds were rolling in—a black cloud that hung only over the heads of their own army.
And then.
"I'm just going to say hello."
There was a man who had come all this way, solely reflecting on his sword. He wanted to test his blade. Instinctively, he also intended to turn the current atmosphere around. It was a sense for reading the battlefield, grasping strategy and tactics, which he had gained from the long battles against Azpen.
"Odd-Eye."
Encrid called Odd-Eye, who now willingly let him ride, and mounted him. The horn trumpet blared with a long, low sound.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Amidst the spreading roll of drums, a single rider stepped forward.
"Anyone, come out!" he shouted.
While everyone was dumbfounded, the adjutant of Jalban, one of the Five Weapons, stepped forward.
"I will bring back his head."
Since the opponent wanted a duel, he would simply oblige. The adjutant rode forward, pointing his long spear ahead.
The opponent dismounted.
Why on earth did that fool get off his horse?
Neigh!
The adjutant's horse let out a loud neigh.
"Ha!"
As he accelerated with a shout, the ground began to rumble. A heavy horse and a warrior holding a spear atop it—a single man who had dismounted would surely be trampled to pieces or skewered on a spit.
"Uh, uh..." Someone in the Kingdom's army pointed forward, their mouth agape. Shouldn't he dodge that?
But most of them just watched blankly. It wasn't as if the whole process happened in the blink of an eye, but what could they do? Since things had turned out this way, they could only watch. Anyone who could read the situation judged that the fellow would be skewered by the spear and die.
Those who didn't know Encrid thought so. Only a few remained relaxed. They were the ones who knew exactly who had stepped forward.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The horse closed the distance in an instant. Its heavy weight was palpable even from afar. Dust billowed up. Grass was crushed beneath the hooves and sent flying backward. Compared to how smoothly their own forces had advanced, as if running on clouds, this was a violent charge.
Whoosh!
The spear sliced through the air. Jalban's adjutant, thrusting his spear, and his mount passed right by the opponent.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed into the air like paint splashed onto a canvas. The horse passed, but the rider left half of his body behind. The upper half of the spearman's body was lifted into the air as if pulled by an invisible string, then crashed to the ground. Blood and entrails stained the grass and soil.
It was the first casualty.
Encrid muttered, not caring whether anyone could hear him.
"Next."
