Chapter 420: A Beginning, Not an End
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 420: A Beginning, Not an End
‘As my heart desires?’
If asked whether he enjoyed killing, Sachsen had no real answer.
No matter how many times he turned the question over in his mind, he couldn't tell if he truly took pleasure in it.
There were those in the guild who would go mad if they didn't see blood at least once a week, but Sachsen had never been like that. However, honing his craft was fun. That, he definitely enjoyed.
“He didn't mean for you to stab your friend in the back, you bastard. He meant for you to survive, even if it came to that.”
The Master's tone was always light, but he was right. That was indeed what Sachsen's father had meant.
Sachsen had simply interpreted it in his own way. Back then, he had to. He had been forced to wander, searching for anything that could serve as firewood for the flames of his vengeance.
“And didn't she mean for you not to dwell so much on the past, rather than just blindly looking forward?”
The Master was right again.
His mother had not wanted him to become a man bound by the shackles of his family.
Sachsen had twisted that memory too, using it as more fuel for his fire.
It was something he knew all too well.
“What I am teaching you is not the art of murder.”
“Then what is it?”
“Figure that out yourself! Do I have to spoon-feed you everything?!”
It wasn't exactly the kind of thing to say while teaching someone how to poison a meal and detect the toxins within.
When he first met the Master, the man had asked:
“Are you coming? If so, I'll teach you how to live.”
Not how to survive, but how to live.
It wasn't the art of murder, but simply one way of living.
His hidden murderous intent remained unchanged. His momentum had not died down either. Yet, Sachsen could not stop the words from spilling out.
“May I stay?”
The question had leaped straight from his heart, bypassing his brain entirely.
“If you defeat me, I will allow it,” Encrid replied as he always did. He spoke from a ready stance.
‘If it is simply one way of living...’
That alone could not be a reason to live.
It was a sudden, fresh realization—a flash of insight that came only after he spoke the words. Sachsen had never found anything his heart desired other than vengeance.
However, he was certain of one thing now.
Sparring with the man before him was far more enjoyable than killing him.
Honing his craft and rising higher was enjoyable.
Watching over his lover was enjoyable.
Then why couldn't he do it all? He asked himself and received the answer. He didn't even need to think twice; the answer was obvious.
“Then I suppose I may stay,” Sachsen said.
The summer sun warmed his back, adding to his rising body heat. A faint smile played on Sachsen's face, which was cast in shadow.
The single phrase telling him to do as his heart desired brought a refreshing sense of liberation, shattering the chains around his heart.
Sachsen possessed techniques he was never supposed to use if someone was watching, or if the opponent was someone he did not intend to kill.
‘Why must I follow that?’
Who had ordered him to do so? The Master had never commanded it. It was merely an unwritten rule passed down by the guild known as the Dagger of Geor.
It was a useless rule he had followed out of sheer inertia.
Encrid was not fooled by his opponent's smile.
‘Is he hiding a trick up his sleeve?’
Encrid had recently realized how much his skills had improved, and obtaining the famous sword Aker had only made him wilder. At every opportunity, he would use his momentum to challenge his company members to spar.
It was no different with Sachsen.
Even seeing Sachsen deeply lost in thought, Encrid had kept prodding him. Naturally, none of them were the type to simply brush off Encrid's provocative momentum.
His demand to defeat him was half-joke, half-provocation.
Sachsen took the bait without hesitation.
To be honest, Encrid didn't even care about Sachsen's talk of staying. He was currently burning with a thirst for a fight, and there was no one else willing to spar with him right now.
Sachsen's momentum manifested outwardly. Though Sachsen's body seemed to swell in size, Encrid remained unfazed.
‘If I cannot believe in myself, I can never win.’
Never overestimate your opponent's strength—that was an ironclad rule to observe before any fight. Yet, one must not let down their guard while simultaneously giving their absolute best.
It was easier said than done, impossible to achieve without experiencing and absorbing it firsthand.
Encrid placed his hand on his grip. Taking his stance, he took in Sachsen's entire body, opening his senses to assess his opponent.
Always his best.
Encrid did as he always did, and he very nearly ended up repeating today.
*
A burden of the heart, perhaps. Or maybe the chains that had bound him until now.
Ignoring all of that, Sachsen's steps were light as he turned away. This was especially true when he recalled Encrid, whom he had just faced.
‘He has improved a lot.’
The art used by knights was called Will. Was there any reason an assassin couldn't use it too?
“If I leave you be, I'll end up creating the most efficient killer on the continent.”
The Master hadn't said those words for nothing. Sachsen possessed talent; the former Master had known it too.
Indeed, Sachsen had just walked away after piercing several spots on Encrid's body with a technique he hadn't even shown when facing that bastard Count Molten.
His steps led him out of the barracks. Two soldiers on guard duty saluted him; they seemed to recognize him.
Passing them without a word, he walked along the tree-lined wall outside. A voice that had been waiting for him spoke.
“Are you serious?”
She spoke not as his lover, but as a fellow guild member and the acting Master. Sachsen knew she had watched his spar with Encrid.
“You even showed something you shouldn't show to anyone other than a target you intend to kill.”
Though her voice was clear, her figure was nowhere to be seen. Sachsen sensed five more presences hiding in the trees.
Six in total. Three of them were assassins who had been in the guild longer than he had. They were masters of poison, dagger throwing, and concealment—the very teachers who had taught him his skills.
For Sachsen had not learned solely from the Master.
Yet, he had surpassed them long ago. They alone could not stop him. Attacking him would only mean a dog's death, and they knew it.
His lover, the Master's daughter, was no fool. Sachsen possessed superior skills and was quicker to grasp a situation than anyone else. He hadn't inherited the position of Master for nothing.
“……Why did you do it?”
It was a question from his lover, who had been like an older sister to him when they were young.
“Just because.”
Somehow, his answer sounded remarkably like Encrid's.
“I did as my heart desired.”
Though unintentional, it was another response mirrored from the knight.
“Was the position of Master so light to you?”
Was she disappointed? Perhaps. Even so, Sachsen did not regret his choice. There was no reason to. Life was not a matter of binary choices.
“When did I ever say I would yield the position of Master?”
“……What?”
Yenatriche, the Master's daughter and his lover, asked back in bewilderment. Sachsen replied calmly.
“I will remain here. But that does not mean I will give up the Dagger of Geor.”
“Do you honestly think that makes sense?”
The master of poison could not contain himself and spoke up. His voice seemed to split and echo from both left and right—a crude trick.
“Why wouldn't it?”
Sachsen spoke while looking directly at the spot where the man was hiding. I will treat you with the respect due to an elder, but if you attack, you die. His eyes conveyed the message perfectly.
“Do not worry. No one is dying here today. I will persuade each and every one of you.”
It was an arrogant claim. Even as the Master of the Dagger of Geor, how could one survive after turning the entire guild into an enemy? Ordinary people would naturally think that way.
But Sachsen was completely unbothered. He acted as if he were simply doing what needed to be done. That attitude made him look all the more insane.
Yenatriche stepped out from the shadow of the wall. Sachsen, already aware of her presence, didn't even flinch.
“You always do as you please.”
“Is that so?”
Yenatriche stared at Sachsen for a moment. Why did she like this man again? Ah, yes. She liked him because he did things like this without a single hesitation.
“You were supposed to kill the former Master.”
The Dagger of Geor was the greatest assassin guild on the continent. Generation after generation, its Master passed down his techniques to his successor and died by that successor's hand.
Sachsen had ignored that rule.
“Are you saying you won't follow the rules?!”
“That is my intention.”
Back then, three rival successors had died, along with five elders. Counting those who followed them, more than thirty people had lost their lives. It was entirely Sachsen's doing. He had accomplished it all on his own.
“Good grief, you crazy bastard. You wiped out thirty percent of the guild's strength just to keep me alive?”
His teacher and Master, Yenatriche's father, had scolded him like that before peacefully closing his eyes. Though the toxins accumulated in his body from a lifetime of overexertion had finally caught up to him, he had died with a smile on his face.
“There are those who refuse to take your side.”
Sachsen stared intently into his lover's orange eyes. When he reached out to her, she took his hand.
Just like her father, Yenatriche was quick-witted. She had already anticipated the possibility of him not returning and had moved beforehand to gather people who would support him. This was merely the process of confirming it. The elders who had followed her were all on Sachsen's side as well.
“Tell me who they are. I will persuade them one by one.”
Of course, that "persuasion" would be done in Encrid's style. Like bashing their heads in until they listened. Or kicking them in the skull until they complied. He would simply do as Encrid had done when persuading the sheriffs in the capital.
And if they still didn't listen?
“Keep doing it until they do.”
Encrid would surely say that. In that regard, Sachsen knew he shared a similar disposition. He was a man who, except for when he saved his father, had never done a single thing in his life as his heart desired. He often wondered if saving his father had even been his own true wish, or if it had been for his own sake.
That was the Sachsen Yenatriche saw. So, deep down, she welcomed this decision.
‘Sometimes in life, you just have to do whatever you want.’
Just before his death, the guild Master had entrusted his daughter to Sachsen. And to his daughter, he had entrusted the boy he cherished like a son.
“Even if that bastard ends up leaving the guild, take good care of him.”
Yenatriche recalled her father's words as Sachsen returned to the barracks. On his way in, he saw Audin offering a prayer.
“Blessings.”
At those words, Audin, who had been clasping his hands with his eyes closed, raised his head in shock. It was enough to make him pause his prayer.
Ragna, who had been dozing off in a rocking chair, slowly opened his eyes.
Sachsen said as he passed by, “Sleep more.”
Dunchabel narrowed her eyes. Has he gone mad?
Even though the question in her eyes was glaringly obvious, Sachsen spoke with an indifferent attitude.
“Go wash up.”
These were words coming from a man who normally showed no reaction other than complete disregard. Dunchabel immediately moved to wash up. His words felt like a final warning—as if he might slit her throat if she didn't comply.
Teresa watched this and began to pray. “Lord, cast out the evil spirits.”
Having been influenced over time, her prayer was directed not to a heretical cult, but to the God of War. Her husky voice echoed softly.
As he passed, Sachsen saw Rem sharpening a palm-sized hand axe with a whetstone. Rem looked at Sachsen. Their eyes met.
“Not dead yet?”
“Yeah. I'll probably die after you.”
Sachsen asked and Rem answered, their voices almost in unison. They were like a pair of swans; in terms of speed and temperament, they couldn't have been a better match.
“Doppelgangers?” Krais muttered from the side.
Even though the name of a rare monster usually found only near the Demon Realm had been brought up, Sachsen did not take offense and simply headed to his room.
*
Encrid lay sprawled out on his back.
‘I made a few wrong judgments.’
Instead of swinging, he should have thrust. And since he held the sword Aker, he should have utilized the unique properties of the famous blade.
‘I was also inexperienced.’
While any fight offered lessons, there was far more to learn when his eccentric company members showed him something new. Though he was too embarrassed to say it out loud, their presence was one of the reasons he hadn't remained with the official order of knights.
‘Unless I were to meet an actual knight in person...’
Until then, he was convinced that training here was far better than learning from the knights.
The sunlight was warm. He felt like he could fall asleep just like this. It wasn't out of laziness, but he could finally understand why Ragna always sat and dozed off whenever he felt the sun.
This was a climate he could only enjoy for a brief moment. In just a few weeks, or even days, the cozy warmth of the sun would turn into scorching heat. The season of fire, summer, was approaching.
Winning or losing did not matter. There was no time to hesitate over such things.
Now that the civil war was over, would the kingdom be filled with nothing but peace? Would there be fewer occasions to swing his sword than before?
There was no way. Moreover, the new King's thoughts were the exact opposite of the previous ruler's. The former Queen had dreamed of a stable nation, but Krang did not.
Before seeing Encrid off, Krang had shared a part of his ambition.
“The Central Continent is divided into three nations. Because of that, our power is weak compared to the West, East, or South. Especially since we face periodic wars with Azpen.”
“Are you planning to sign a peace treaty?” Encrid had asked.
The more they kept Azpen in check, the more power Naurilia could accumulate. That was only natural, considering the resources consumed by war and the lives of the soldiers.
At those words, Krang had spoken with a gentle smile. His tone was as casual as if he were picking a flower from a garden.
“No. I am going to subjugate Azpen.”
When it came to dreams and ambitions, Krang was second to none, not even Encrid. He spoke with his unique, captivating eloquence. Though his words were meant solely for Encrid, he poured his entire soul into them.
Just as Encrid staked his life on the sword, Krang burned his soul to declare his resolve.
“I will become the sole hegemon of the Central Continent.”
Furthermore, Krang had said that becoming the hegemon of the Central Continent was only a part of his dream.
Just as Encrid believed that becoming a knight was not the end of his dream but its beginning, Krang felt the same.