Chapter 418: Famous Sword and Metal
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 418: Famous Sword and Metal
Krais walked up to Encrid and dropped to one knee. From his kneeling position, he raised one arm and bowed his head, his posture incredibly solemn and dignified.
It looked as if he were swearing a knight's oath of fealty. Indeed, the words that left his lips matched the gravity of the gesture.
"I shall serve you with the utmost loyalty."
Encrid stared blankly at Krais. He knew the man well enough to be skeptical.
Was he acting like this because of Encrid’s recent deeds? Because he had ended the civil war? Was he truly moved enough to swear a new oath of loyalty?
What a joke.
Krang had granted Encrid the rank of General instead of a noble title, and along with it, he had handed over this entire territory.
The Border Guard wasn't small, but this...
If one were to rule and manage this entire region, how much could they line their pockets?
Kneeling on one knee, Krais stared at the dirt. In his eyes, the grains of earth looked like flecks of gold. This wasn't a dirt floor; it was a golden foundation.
It’s a magnificent territory. How many corners are there from which Krona will pour out?
There was no need to even raise taxes. What if they connected the trade routes of every city under the General's name and took a cut from the merchant guilds? There would be no need to accept petty bribes.
What if they established a trade route on a completely different scale, taking shares by investing in the Lockfried Merchant Guild or other rising factions? They could amass an astronomical fortune.
And what would he do with all that money? The answer was already written in his heart.
Krais had mapped out every stage of his dream. First, a small salon. Then, a street of salons. Ultimately...
A city of pleasure.
He would build a city dedicated to nothing but pure enjoyment. A place where every necessity—food, drink, clothing—was handled by merchants, while the heart of the city offered only pure hedonism! The legendary Krais’s Salon City.
Krais’s dream was no less grand than Encrid’s. He wanted to turn an entire city into a playground. And he didn't think it was unrealistic, either. Although building a city would require a staggering sum, he expected it to yield returns far exceeding the investment.
Who in the world didn't like to play? Especially if they built a sanctuary where powerful figures with overflowing gold coins and masters of merchant guilds could gather? What if the luxuries they could only enjoy at the banquets of high nobles were available anytime in Krais’s Salon City?
This will work.
All he needed was capital. Krona. Gold.
His original plan was to save up and open a small shop in the capital, but if he could earn more and immediately build a castle to establish a whole city...
"...Hey, Big-Eyes."
Lost in his swelling delusions, Krais belatedly heard the voice calling him and snapped his head up.
Encrid locked eyes with Big-Eyes. Inside those large pupils, he could see ambition burning like the fires of hell.
"...Right. Serve with all your loyalty."
Encrid knew Krais wasn't the type to listen if told to stop. He realized once again that he was likely the only sane person in the entire Mad Company.
"Ah, His Highness has sent some gifts," Krais said, quickly recovering and standing up. "Two sets of Drake Scale Armor, a sword's worth of Mount Lewis iron ingots and Ink Gold, and just in case, the Famous Sword Aker has arrived—though we might want to have it appraised."
"His Highness" referred to Krang. This meant that even while he was ransacking the national treasury to stabilize the kingdom, he had set aside these treasures specifically for Encrid.
Is this really okay?
The items were so incredibly expensive that the thought gave Encrid pause. But to Krang, it was only natural.
"I think it's only natural to take care of my own people first. It's not like this is a stretch."
Drake Scale Armor was famous for being as flexible as cloth yet harder than ordinary plate armor. Mount Lewis steel was even rarer than Valerian steel—much lighter than ordinary iron, yet just as durable.
Then there was Ink Gold, a metal that couldn't be bought even for five times its weight in gold. Its nickname was 'The Trial of God.'
While it was five times heavier than ordinary steel, it possessed every desirable property a warrior could want, including unmatched strength and ductility. Its weight was its only flaw—and its greatest hurdle. If it couldn't be forged and wielded properly, it was useless, which is why it was usually only used in small amounts for imprinted weapons, the exclusive arms of high-ranking knights.
Of course, Mount Uber Ink Gold was considered the finest, but Ink Gold from any region was still something an ordinary person wouldn't see in their entire lifetime.
Finally, there was Aker.
Wasn't that a royal treasure?
It was a name even Encrid recognized. Aker was a famous sword said to have been wielded by a legendary knight of the previous generation. The tale of it slicing through a giant’s stone door with a light stroke, requiring no force at all, had been turned into a fairy tale known by every child in the kingdom.
"I wondered if he emptied the national treasury to send these."
It was a staggering gift. Encrid nodded at Krais’s words. Krang was currently scraping the bottom of the treasury to resolve the financial ruin caused by the civil war, yet he had sent this.
They were incredible items, and since they were a gift, Encrid saw no reason to refuse. He nodded readily.
"I have a lot to say. A great deal," Luagarne spoke up, approaching from behind. Her eyes burned as hotly as Krais’s.
And why wouldn't they? She had a weakness for the 'unknown.'
How could he have come this far?
Even seeing it with her own eyes, she could hardly believe it. No genius should have been able to achieve such growth. Especially since, when viewed with her talent-reading eye, Encrid’s talent was still meager. Even if it had improved slightly, it was fundamentally the same.
Although Luagarne had never said it aloud, her version of the Frog Kin’s 'talent reading' was beyond excellent—it was close to a divine mystery. Because of this, she could see not just what a person had built, but the ceiling of what they could build.
Encrid always looked as if he were stepping half a step beyond his limits. He was running far past the boundaries of his own talent. In that state, he had become skilled enough to rank at the very top even among Associate Knights.
How did you do it?
For the first time, Luagarne felt her racial instincts flare. The 'unknown' was moving vividly right before her.
Encrid was unfazed by the Frog Kin’s intense gaze. Just as he had been indifferent when Liebart spoke of frustration and despair, he brushed her off now. Instead, he asked why she was here.
"My covenant was made with the Queen. It is over now."
Normally, she would have left to search for another mystery, but right next to her was an existence she couldn't believe even after seeing, and couldn't understand no matter how hard she tried. Her presence here was both inevitable and destined. At least, that’s what Luagarne believed.
"Why? Should we make a covenant if you need one?"
Luagarne was willing to bind herself to the man before her for the rest of her life. She was even willing to accept it if he demanded nothing but platonic devotion.
"No, thank you."
Encrid didn't see the need. Instead, his mind was occupied by other things.
"Were you upset that I arrived first?" Encrid asked, looking at Captain Sinar. "Did things go well where you went?"
At his question, Sinar smiled. It was a rare sight. Those around her who knew the elf were stunned, but Encrid remained calm.
"Were you worried?"
"I'm glad it went well."
That was it. Sinar returned to her usual cold, expressionless mask, and Luagarne followed behind Encrid as they headed inside.
On the way, Encrid fell into deep thought. Seeing this, Rem tapped him on the shoulder.
"What’s on your mind?"
Encrid, brow furrowed, finally spoke. "When transitioning from a diagonal slash to a thrust, what would happen if I paused for a heartbeat and then used a moment of pure acceleration?"
The change in speed caused by a brief pause would confuse the opponent’s eyes. Shifting from slow to fast would break the rhythm, making the strike feel even faster than it was. It would be nearly impossible to block.
"...Is that all you've been thinking about this whole time?" Rem asked, deadpan.
"What else is there?"
Was there anything more urgent than that? Encrid’s eyes asked.
"We aren't called the Mad Company for nothing," Rem muttered. He secretly thought the man before him was the craziest of them all, while Encrid wondered why Rem was suddenly stating the obvious.
"If you try something like that, your tendons will snap or your muscles will tear," Rem warned.
Using Will meant overworking the body. Pausing in the middle of a high-velocity slash only to thrust instantly wasn't just overexertion—it was a recipe for self-destruction.
"Take it easy, take it easy. Just nod if you understand. Take. It. Easy."
Rem emphasized the words repeatedly. Audin, listening nearby, smiled warmly and chimed in.
"It seems you need special training, General Brother."
No one was faster than Audin at adapting to a new title. He used the word "General" as if he’d been saying it for years.
"Special training?"
Encrid showed immediate interest. Audin was pleased; it was the first time in his life he had a student so diligent. He recalled those he had taught in the past.
"Please, spare me!"
"Is today finally the day I meet the Lord Father in heaven?"
"Are you serious? You're increasing the intensity again? I'd rather just fight you!"
Compared to those memories, the current situation was a blessing.
"What kind of training?"
Encrid wasn't just interested; he was passionate. Audin couldn't help but feel satisfied. Furthermore, the man before him was someone who forged ahead more uprightly than anyone he had ever known. When Audin heard what Encrid had done during the civil war, a shiver had run down his spine.
Lord Father, I must ask... is this man an incarnation sent by You, unable to bear the malice of this land any longer?
His deeds were that legendary. When Encrid had advanced instead of retreating before the final wave of wraiths, Audin had nearly shed tears. Moreover, his opponent had been a vessel possessed by a demon. This was undoubtedly divine providence.
Audin brushed aside his stray thoughts. "The tempering of the body has no end. We used the Striking Method to temper it like steel, didn't we? This time, it is about developing absolute control."
The Striking Method was like beating the body with a steel hammer. Encrid had been doing it consistently, though the major effects had yet to manifest. But he wasn't bored. He knew that even if the results weren't immediate, doing his best today and repeating it endlessly was the only path he had.
"Control?" Encrid asked.
He had already mastered his body to the point of swinging a sword mid-somersault. After all, the level of an Associate Knight was no joke. Most self-proclaimed martial masters would bow their heads before one.
"If you cannot control every single fiber of your muscle as you wish, how can you truly call it your own body?" Audin challenged.
Listening nearby, Pel blinked. Is that kind of training even necessary? As a genius, Pel had his doubts. Usually, such control was something the body absorbed naturally. It wasn't something you taught.
Rem and Ragna didn't question it. Their captain had more than a few quirks. For instance, Rem could already perform the trick Encrid mentioned—pausing and moving again—but Encrid couldn't. Because Audin could read a body's state just by looking at it, he knew exactly what Encrid lacked.
By adding precision to his sword, Encrid’s options would multiply. He would be able to perform movements bordering on the divine. The next step was making the body endure it—ensuring that when he executed the impossible movements in his head, his frame wouldn't shatter.
Things that came naturally to geniuses did not come easily to Encrid.
"Good."
Of course, Encrid didn't care about the difficulty. He was simply satisfied to have something new to train. From the very evening he returned to the Border Guard, Encrid began pushing his body.
*
Two days later, a blacksmith arrived from the capital. He was none other than 'Iron and Pure Gold,' a man second to none in the blacksmiths' guild.
"Not just anyone can handle Ink Gold."
Although he had come at the King's request, he had set aside all other commissions the moment he heard he was to forge weapons for the hero who saved the nation.
Encrid told the others to take whatever they wanted from the gifts, keeping only the famous sword for himself. The moment he gripped the Famous Sword Aker, Encrid knew.
This is my sword.
When Encrid uncharacteristically voiced his sentiment, Rem replied, "Usually, when you hold something expensive and high-quality, it always feels like it's yours."
It wasn't a lie. Whether it was Silver or the Valerian steel sword, they had all felt like his own from the start. In any case, this was Aker, a spell-weapon used by a legendary knight. Since the sword shared the knight's name, Encrid was more than satisfied.
"Give me the Mount Lewis iron."
Rem coveted the iron, while Ragna claimed the Ink Gold.
"I'll take this."
"Go ahead."
Encrid had no reason to stop them.
"You don't have any intention of selling them, right?" Krais asked hopefully, but everyone ignored him.
Why would they sell them? These were warriors who didn't care for Krona. Krais felt a pang of bitterness. While Aker was priceless, selling the Mount Lewis iron or the Ink Gold could have secured more than half the capital needed for his salon.
No, if I were the one selling them, I could get even more...
It was painful, but he accepted it as their earned reward.
Because of their choices, the artisan from the capital had to consult with Rem and Ragna.
"If we use ironwood for the shaft and forge a spearhead out of the Mount Lewis iron, it will be a magnificent weapon," the artisan suggested.
"Let's make an axe," Rem countered.
"An axe blade has more weight concentrated at the head. If the material is too light..."
"I want a solid steel axe. The handle should be about this long. Make me two."
Rem spread his hands to indicate the length. It was a long-handled hand axe. The artisan wondered what was wrong with this man. Looking into Rem's eyes, he saw the grinning face of a barbarian. He didn't look stubborn, but he looked like the type to throw a tantrum if he didn't get his way.
Postponing his attempt to persuade Rem, the artisan turned to Ragna.
"Ink Gold is best used as an alloy for a dagger or just the tip of a blade. If we balance the center of gravity, it won't feel as heavy, and we could make twenty swords with this amount! Or thirty spears!"
"A greatsword. Make it about this size," Ragna said, completely ignoring the advice. "This is manticore hide. I want the hilt wrapped in it."
The artisan looked into Ragna's eyes as well. There was absolutely no intention of listening to reason.
This one isn't normal either.
The artisan's assistant watched nervously. Usually, his master would fly into a rage if someone ignored his expertise. But the master...
"Let's do that."
...tucked his tail before their madness. After all, there was no cure for a lunatic.
"Master?" the assistant blurted out.
"Stoke the fire."
The apprentice began pumping the bellows. The master quietly watched the rising flames. Although these two hadn't listened to a word he said, this was a challenge. Forging weapons in the shapes they demanded would be nearly impossible unless he exerted every ounce of his skill.
A greatsword of pure Ink Gold and a solid Mount Lewis steel axe. When else would he ever get to forge such monstrosities?
The artisan poured his heart and soul into the forge.