Chapter 415: The Nobles Ask, Encrid Answers
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 415: The Nobles Ask, Encrid Answers
How many nobles were there in the capital?
Not all of them were sane.
It was a fact one could realize with just a bit of thought.
"What do you think? If you come to my territory, I can personally grant you a manor along with the title of Guardian of the Territory..."
A man named Baron Somerset was the start of it.
Encrid tried to decline as gently as possible.
"I'm not interested."
It was a situation he had never experienced before. Had he ever received this much attention from the nobility in his entire life? Encrid pushed them away by making his intentions clear.
"Uh, well..."
Baron Somerset was left speechless. Encrid’s firm tone had cut his proposal short before he could even finish. The Baron didn't even realize that this was Encrid being polite; instead, he secretly found the man insolent.
He knew the man was incredibly skilled, but how could anyone survive in this world with just a sword? Everyone needed a backing. To stand out in the capital in the future, wasn't that a given?
Since people only see as much as they know, this was only natural to Baron Somerset.
"Then, if you'll excuse me."
Encrid bowed slightly and turned around. A young page nearby saw his master's hands trembling with indignation.
Even so, the hero who saved the nation looked incredibly cool as he walked away.
He's so cool.
Speaking his mind and walking away, regardless of whether the other person was a noble or not—how many children wouldn't look at that with admiration?
And admiration wasn't limited to the boys.
Among the palace maids, a group had even formed to debate whose face was superior: Encrid's or Sachsen's. In the process, Audin, Rem, Dunchabel, and Teresa were also brought up.
Encrid had already made a name for himself among the noblewomen before, but now, it was on a completely different level. There wasn't a single noble in the capital who didn't know the names of Encrid and his Mad Company. Some nobles even brought their daughters along. Out of respect for Krang, Encrid met with every single one of them.
"This is my daughter."
She was quite pretty. Seeing her shyly lower her head, she seemed innocent enough.
Encrid looked at the lady's slender arms, decided those forearms wouldn't even be able to properly hold a rapier, and declined.
"I'm busy."
"Busy with what?"
"I have to train."
Though there were various polite exchanges, if one were to get straight to the point, that was the gist of every conversation.
While some brought their daughters, others asked him to become their heir.
"I have no children."
The speaker was a scrawny old man who looked to be around seventy. Claiming he had never spent his wealth recklessly in his entire life, he said that siding with the King this time was the biggest gamble he'd ever taken.
After Encrid humored him briefly and sent him on his way, Sachsen approached.
"I heard he has six children," Sachsen remarked. "He kicked them all out because none of them pleased him."
The man was a miser among misers, a noble who reportedly ate black bread instead of white even in the privacy of his own home. Yet, such a man had come offering to give away his entire fortune. He had even brought the deed with him; all it needed was a seal to finalize it.
Encrid didn't have a seal. He was a commoner.
Several more nobles followed. These were only the ones who held significant sway; the riffraff had already been filtered out.
In the midst of this, some rather unusual visitors arrived as well.
"I'll tell you in advance, I am not a man of Azpen. This is merely a request. So, there is no need to cut me down or beat me. My entire job is simply to deliver their words and receive your answer."
The man was sweating profusely under the shade of a tree, his nerves plain to see. He appeared to be a magistrate working in the capital—a minor noble who earned extra income through various errands. Seeing his desperate attitude as he begged for understanding, it seemed as though someone held significant leverage over him.
Encrid nodded.
"Azpen has promised you the title of Duke."
The civil war wasn't solely Naurilia's problem. It was an event that all neighboring nations watched with rapt attention. In a way, it was only natural that Azpen was the first to make such an offer.
What kind of person was Encrid? Was he a man devoted to his country? Or did he have other desires?
"They also said that a marriage proposal with the princess is possible, if you wish."
Encrid began to worry that the magistrate might actually suffer from dehydration. Sweat was literally dripping off the man.
"I refuse."
"Ah, yes. Understood."
The messenger didn't even try to persuade him a second time.
Gold coins piled like mountains, beautiful women offered on silver platters—it didn't matter. It was around the time when these various annoyances were starting to grate on his nerves that his companions spoke up.
"Just chop off a few of their arms. That'll stop them from coming, won't it?" Rem advised.
Encrid was so annoyed that the suggestion actually sounded tempting.
"It's better to just ignore them," Ragna chimed in.
It was a gentler method, but the problem was that those noble bastards didn't come alone; they brought pages or maids with them. The nobles didn't suffer from being ignored—the servants did. Seeing a young kid trembling as they sought him out made it difficult for Encrid to ignore them outright.
"Haha, you just need to govern your mind with prayer. You can pray together with those who visit, Brother Commander."
If the first "prayer" Audin mentioned meant literal prayer, the "praying together" afterward was the kind where fists and feet might fly. Encrid thought it was a method no different from Rem's.
Dunchabel and Teresa had no interest in such matters. Sachsen secretly thought it would be easier to just kill them quietly, but he was sensible enough not to say it out loud.
Esther merely watched the circus with languid eyes.
"You've been marked by a demon, so you had better be careful," she warned.
Encrid's reaction to that truly astounded her.
"They're strong, right?" he asked, his focus entirely on the demon's martial prowess. "I wonder if they'll be hard to beat?"
To think he had a face full of anticipation for a fight with a demon.
"Crazy bastard," Esther muttered.
She went out of her way to shift into human form just to spit out the curse before turning back into a panther. It was a monologue, but if she didn't voice it aloud, her chest would have felt too stifled. To maintain her Spell World, she couldn't afford to harbor such frustration. Besides, Encrid wasn't the type of guy to scold her for a sudden outburst.
At any rate, Encrid decided not to take anyone's advice and just brush them off as he saw fit. Still, it was so bothersome that he was starting to consider slipping away to the Border Guard.
"It has been a while. The hero of the nation, the demon slayer, the Border Guard's..."
"I think you can stop there."
They had met before. Encrid opened his mouth, thinking that if he forgot her name this time as well, that beautiful woman's face would turn into that of an angry ghoul.
"Lady Vaisar."
"...You haven't forgotten my name, have you?"
"How could I?"
Encrid was surprisingly smooth-tongued. He managed to navigate the situation without actually uttering her first name.
Even Kin Vaisar, counted as the capital's greatest beauty, could no longer press the issue. She hadn't come alone, and there were no loopholes in the words of the man before her. It wasn't as if she could just demand he say her name right then and there; it would be impolite and beneath her dignity as a noble.
I'm pretty sure he forgot, though.
She suspected him, and with good reason. Encrid had indeed forgotten her name amidst his repeating days.
But as he wondered why she had come all the way to the training ground, five attendants and an old man approached from behind her.
"I hear many troublesome people have been visiting you lately?"
Marquis Vaisar was the one who spoke. Kin bowed her head and stepped aside.
"There is no need to make space for us, nor do I intend to take up your busy time."
Marquis Vaisar was an inherently efficient man. He detested wasting time. That was what set him apart from the other visitors. Instead of sending pages and maids, he had come in person with his family, walking right into the training ground. Under the watchful eyes of Rem and the others, the Marquis spoke.
"I hear you are of age. Enter into holy matrimony with Kin."
Encrid was no fool. His cleverness was something even Krais had acknowledged. Kin lowered her head without a hint of embarrassment, and the Marquis maintained an attitude that suggested his proposal had no downsides.
"Marcus will inherit my title of Marquis."
If one factored in those words, the meaning became clear. Kin Vaisar was a symbol—a bridge connecting him to House Vaisar.
The advantage? Once the merit award ceremony began, House Vaisar would receive the title of Duke. Marcus Vaisar was one of those who possessed that level of influence and had rendered immense service in this war. If Encrid became the master of the Centerpole family, the ducal title would be guaranteed.
Take the family that will become the kingdom's sole ducal house as your backing. Do whatever you wish, and we will never force anything upon you.
This was the hidden meaning behind the proposal. Marquis Vaisar was no fool; he had no intention of imposing coercion or oppressive demands on Encrid. If only they could forge a deeper bond, he would grant him the kingdom's greatest beauty along with everything else he might need.
He could have put forward another daughter instead of Kin, but he didn't. Kin Vaisar was the courtesy shown by the Marquis. It was a proposal so bold that even someone like Krang would have been stunned.
Encrid stared blankly at the Marquis for a moment before shifting his gaze to Kin Vaisar.
Daughters of noble families commonly entered into arranged marriages. It was a society that encouraged it. But was that interesting? Was it enjoyable?
Encrid didn't know Kin Vaisar well, but he viewed her not just as a woman, but as a person. Though they weren't close, they had crossed paths and shared conversations. The Kin Vaisar he had seen back then did not seem like someone who wished for a life of being the mere mistress of a manor.
Even though it could come across as insolent, Encrid acted as he always did. Since when had he ever held back his words for the sake of politeness?
"What is your dream?" he asked.
Kin Vaisar, who had been maintaining an expressionless face, looked at Encrid in shock. She was a symbol, an object of an arranged marriage. That was all. He didn't need to feel affection for her, and she didn't have to do anything.
But a dream? It was a question completely unsuited to the situation.
"Do you not have a dream? Something you want to do?"
Kin Vaisar was flustered. She thought to herself that this man was truly unpredictable. Marquis Vaisar remained silent, his face unreadable.
Was she even allowed to answer?
"I think you do," Encrid prompted.
Though born into a noble family, she hadn't quietly stayed indoors. There was something she wanted to do, but it wasn't something she could say in front of the head of the house. Within the family, the Marquis's word was law. If he told her to enter an arranged marriage, she did so.
"It is to be with the hero of the nation," Kin spat out the textbook answer.
No one spoke. The Marquis merely watched.
"What you want to do," Encrid asked once more in his clipped tone.
Kin began to sweat. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff.
"Speak," the Marquis commanded, staring intently at Encrid.
Only then did Kin cautiously open her mouth.
"I have an interest in dealing with gems... so I have been doing it on a small scale."
"For something 'small-scale,' I hear you even sought out a fairly large merchant guild," the Marquis noted. He already knew.
Kin Vaisar had an excellent eye for gems. Beyond that, she led the fashion and trends of the capital. It was thanks to her innate sense and the discerning eye cultivated since childhood. She possessed a sense of taste that could easily be called genius.
"Is that what you want to do?" the Marquis asked.
Kin didn't know how to answer. When she remained silent, Encrid spoke up in her stead.
"Why even ask? It's because people get stubborn when they grow old. Stop being so stubborn and stop tormenting her."
Most of the attendants were horrified. Wasn't that crossing the line? Even so, they had no intention of attacking. Encrid alone was terrifying, but looking at the people standing behind him, it was only natural that they didn't dare make a move.
Rem was grinning, licking his axe blade with his tongue.
"Disgusting," Ragna scolded him.
"Mind your own business," Rem snapped back. The two of them immediately began bickering.
"So, it's because I've grown old?" the Marquis asked. There was not a trace of laughter in his voice. One might have felt pressured, but compared to Count Molsen when he was possessed by a demon, this was nothing.
"A sword is enough to prove my worth," Encrid replied.
This was the end of the conversation. There was no reason to treat the Marquis any differently from the other nobles. Encrid truly thought so. Whether it was Marquis Vaisar or Somerset, they were all the same.
"Well then."
They were just annoying people taking away his training time. As he turned around after showing his courtesy with a bow, the Marquis glared at Encrid for a moment before turning away. He looked quite displeased.
"Still, he's a Marquis. Is that really okay? Or should I just go slash?" Rem offered his advice again, drawing the edge of his hand across his neck.
Encrid ignored him. "It's a waste of time."
He was sincere. He had learned and realized many new things recently, and they made his body itch to move. And with good reason—Encrid had possessed absolutely no talent from the moment he first held a sword. Yet, such a man had suddenly awakened Will, applied it, used it, and even mimicked Ragna's swordplay.
Now that he could feel the changes in his body, swinging his sword was ten times more enjoyable than before. Of course, to outsiders like Pel, he was just a lunatic obsessed with training.
Having seen Kin Vaisar's appearance, Pel looked at Encrid and wondered if the man's anatomy was literally made of stone.
"Are you a eunuch?" he asked Dunchabel beside him.
"I think so too," she replied. "He's a guy who would never fall for me either."
Pel looked at the sour-smelling Dunchabel and thought, Even I wouldn't fall for you.
The beastwoman really hated washing.