Chapter 506: To Pay a Visit
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 506: To Pay a Visit
From Martai to the East.
Dunchabel’s journey was far less grueling than she had anticipated. Dealing with monsters and demonic beasts was par for the course, but their numbers had dwindled noticeably compared to before.
It made sense.
Outposts had been established at regular intervals, stretching all the way from the Border Guard to Martai. The troops stationed at these outposts did nothing but rotate shifts, slay monsters, and hold the line.
Yet, this didn't mean banditry had increased in their wake.
There was a common saying on the continent: When monsters decrease, bandits thrive.
It was only natural. When monster activity died down, people traveled more frequently, and bandits would inevitably set up shop along those busy routes. But that wasn't the case in this region.
"If you're caught banditing, your head is forfeit. If you're caught stealing, your hand is forfeit."
The Border Guard Captain, who had become the Castellan of Martai, ruled over criminals with the same iron fist he had used in the Border Guard. This was also why criminal guilds couldn't gain a foothold.
Occasionally, a Frok named Meelun would drop by, claiming he was bored, and ruthlessly beat down any mercenaries or swordsmen who caused trouble.
"If you think it's unfair that you got thrashed, come to the Border Guard."
With the recent surge of soldiers in the Border Guard who fought better than him, Meelun’s new hobby was taking occasional walks out here whenever his frustration boiled over. There was even a rumor that if you actually went there after hearing those words, a muscular monster of a man would force you into a hellish training regime.
Dunchabel had heard similar stories along the road and nodded. It was a highly plausible rumor.
When the Border Guard raised strong soldiers and increased military spending, Martai naturally followed suit.
"Are you going to let the name of the Border Guard go to waste?!"
Torres drove his men harder than ever. He could not allow the dignity of a unit with such history and renown to be overshadowed. He refused to let the Border Guard become just another mediocre unit under his command.
As part of their training, Torres sent the Border Guard to outpost duty, and just as Krais had hoped, Martai began building outposts as well. With a safe road stretching from the Border Guard to Martai, it naturally became a heavily traveled route for merchant caravans.
Martai had always been a gateway city through which precious relics and goods from the East passed. The items and relics coming from the East were of no small value, and normally, the Lockfried Merchant Guild could have monopolized them. However, they acted wisely.
Instead of desperately trying to grasp everything in their hands, they took only their fair share and left the rest alone. They didn't touch Eastern relics, peddlers, or traveling merchants. As long as they paid the toll, they could pass through without issue.
For this reason, the environment became such that any merchant guild on the continent would be called a fool if they didn't head to the Border Guard immediately.
It was a boom. Although there were no particular local specialties and Greenpearl still had many hurdles to overcome before it could become proper farmland, trade flourished, and Krona circulated rapidly.
That was why Martai was bustling.
Dunchabel sought out Torres, just as Encrid had told her to, and was able to obtain adequate supplies.
"Heading to the East? It's danger—no, wait. You're one of Encrid's people, aren't you? Do as you please."
Torres said this and added just one more thing.
"Should I have them draw a bath for you?"
Her appearance suggested she hadn't washed properly in days.
"No, it's fine. I'm leaving right away."
Dunchabel set off, looking as grimy as she was. Leaving Martai, she headed East.
At first, a vast wasteland welcomed her. Once she left the areas with fewer monsters and bandits, she encountered creatures she had never seen before.
One was a two-headed lizard; one head clacked its teeth together to create sparks, while the other spewed a gas-like substance. When the two combined, it became a fire-breathing monster. In the past, a fire-breathing lizard monster called a Salamander had descended upon the continent, and this was a remnant of its legacy—a subspecies of the Salamander, so to speak.
It was roughly named a Flame Lizard. In some regions, it was simply called a two-headed lizard. It wasn't a common sight.
Her journey continued, walking and walking while slaying monsters. The East was far. With nothing to do on the road, random thoughts filled her head.
'The Chronicles of Dunchabel, Who Journeyed to the East and Returned.'
What if she wrote a story like that?
The subtitle: 'The Tale of Bees Drunk on Flowers'?
Everyone, including Encrid, would fall in love with her.
'Should I leave Rem out?'
He was a married man, and Ayul was a good person. She remembered Ayul taking care of her in various ways when she stayed in the West.
Afterward, Dunchabel nearly died about twice before finally reaching the Eastern pioneer city. It was a story that was long if long, and short if short.
When she finally met the ruler of the East, Mercenary King Anu, his very first words were:
"Hey, did that bastard get all his fingers chopped off? Why hasn't he replied to my letters?"
He was complaining about Encrid not replying to the letters he had sent. There were no words of welcome for her, but she didn't care. When had she ever been welcomed? In the past, it might have bothered her, but now it didn't matter.
"How should I know?" Dunchabel replied nonchalantly.
The King stared at her. "What did you come here for?"
"To get some rest."
At her claim of coming to the East to rest, the eyes of those standing beside the King sharpened.
What is this half-wit Beastman talking about?
Dunchabel had brought this hardship upon herself. She had come here precisely for that.
And so.
"So, I look forward to working with you," Dunchabel said confidently.
*
Krang hated politics. Just look at this.
"It seems there are many eyes watching Encrid."
"Why? Are they afraid that if we get too close, I'll seize their lands and give them to Enki?" the Marquis of Okto said with a chuckle.
"What can we do? When royal authority strengthens, the nobility is bound to grow anxious."
Krang tapped the armrest of his chair with a dull thud.
Seriously, no matter how many times he got rid of those idiots who were only busy looking out for their own interests, more kept popping up. They were like mosquitoes. Just like those annoying pests that appeared every summer, these people kept appearing.
It wasn't something to worry about too much. He couldn't take care of every single detail on the path forward. Those destined to fall behind would do so on their own.
Complaints had reached him from a few landowning nobles on the frontier, claiming that Encrid's territory was too large. Among them, some even talked about seizing parts of the territory by force.
Are they insane?
What if they died? Krang told them to do as they pleased. However, he warned them that they would have to bear the consequences of any armed conflict, and some of the landowning nobles—perhaps driven by a suicidal urge born of their narrow-mindedness—said they would.
Well, it seemed the machinations of neighboring countries were mixed into their current behavior, but if they were throwing such a fit because they wanted to die despite all warnings and coaxing, what more could he say?
"Ah, well, nothing can be done about that. I hear Azpen is acting unusual?"
The seasonal rains had passed, and the season that could rightfully be called autumn had begun. Krang spoke as he looked out the window at the leaves slowly turning red.
"We are gathering information through every possible channel. In my judgment, yes, I believe they are preparing for war."
The response came from Marquis Vaisar, who sat next to the Marquis of Okto. Across from the Marquis, Marcus Vaisar was moving his utensils. It was a breakfast meeting and banquet.
Though "banquet" only meant a modest portion of steak, roasted broccoli, and mashed potatoes instead of sandwiches. Krang loathed waste. This was because, during his childhood wandering the continent, he had seen many people starve to death.
He believed that reducing the dishes served at the royal table could save dozens, even hundreds, of citizens. And in reality, it did. Of course, some nobles hated this.
Why prevent us from enjoying what we are entitled to?
Krang didn't actively punish them for it. Everyone made their own choices, but the royal family led by example, fostering an atmosphere of caring for the people and fulfilling responsibilities instead of wasting resources.
Because they hated that, they rebelled; because he favored Enki, they rebelled again; and they threw tantrums about the "insufficient training" of knights.
Truly, those noble bastards.
And in the midst of this, Azpen was going to attack. Could they pull knights from the southern border to fight? Could they withdraw troops from the City of Oara?
They would need knights. This war wouldn't end as a mere local skirmish like before. Azpen would exert its full strength with absolute determination. They would do anything to reclaim Greenpearl. But what gave them the confidence to attack?
If he were the Prince of Azpen, this would be the time to bow his head and submit. The fact that they were still attacking meant they had something to rely on.
There are those who do not view failure as a stage of despair, but rather as a new opportunity. Encrid was a prime example of such a person. Perhaps there was someone in Azpen who didn't think of failure as failure, but rather thought, 'Again! One more time!'
Having attacked and been broken countless times, they would surely return this time with thorough preparations.
Krang chewed his meat with an expressionless face. The well-cooked mutton melted in his mouth. Regardless of nobles or war, the meat was simply delicious.
"The mutton is cooked perfectly. Please eat while we speak," Marcus said, prompting Marquis Vaisar to pick up his utensils. As the Marquis aged, his bite had weakened, making it difficult to eat meat. He had received divine healing once, but his gums could never return to their former health.
However, the tender lamb was soft enough to be easily torn even by the Marquis's teeth.
"So, if Azpen crosses the line, we should tell Enki to block them using only the strength of the Border Guard, is that it?"
A faction of nobles had gathered and were making a fuss to diminish the influence of General Encrid. They claimed that since he was the great lord responsible for the region and the city built to block Azpen, he should fulfill his duty.
Those bastards seemed to have completely lost their consciences. Had they already forgotten that they had hailed him as the one who ended the civil war and the demon slayer?
Well, the provincial nobles probably hadn't witnessed Encrid's exploits firsthand. Even now, it was those provincial nobles who were banding together to make such claims. Among them were those who disliked that Count Molsen's territory was being managed like a direct royal estate. They were idiots who believed that once Count Molsen died, a portion of his county would become their land.
Krang asked, and Marquis Vaisar nodded.
"No matter how long it takes, if he can hold out for just a month, the royal family will be able to support him with troops."
Those troops might include knights. A month at most. It meant he only had to put up a fight. It was a bit of a farce, but it would serve to show that the Border Guard was doing its job and that Encrid was indeed fit for his position.
"Just in case, I am thinking of sending Viscount Andrew's forces. He would be of great help," Marcus said after swallowing his meat.
Andrew was the castellan of the city right next to the capital and had received land. Since he was raising strong soldiers day by day with the support of the royal family, he would indeed be helpful, just as Marcus said.
Krang nodded. It was time to write another personal letter.
"But is this fellow busy? Why isn't he replying?"
Krang himself had sent over ten letters, yet there was no reply from Encrid. If he had returned, shouldn't he reply? Hadn't some time passed since he returned from the West?
*
Does he have no common sense?
Or perhaps he was good at fighting but lacked brains. That was what Encrid thought when he read the Mercenary King's letter.
It was filled with demands for a reply. There wasn't even anything particularly important in it. So why was he rushing him?
Unless they had a crest on their head, anyone could easily understand that sending a reply was no simple task. While the Mercenary King could somehow send letters using his own people, sending a reply back to the pioneer city required at least a squad of soldiers to move.
Until now, the system was that if he left a reply in Martai, the Easterners who came to deliver letters would take it back with them. Thus, the timing had to align for a reply to be sent.
Encrid had been busy traveling between the City of Oara and the West for some time. Yet, the man was complaining about the lack of a reply. Even if he didn't know that, it wasn't as if the letters required an urgent response.
Encrid checked the letters that had piled up during his absence one by one. Most of them were from Mercenary King Anu and Krang.
There were also a few useless letters. Letters from ladies claiming to adore him or to have fallen in love at first sight. Letters from nobles suggesting he meet their daughters, and so on.
Excluding the letters from the two kings, half of them were marriage proposals, a quarter were confrontational letters questioning whether his reputation was a sham, and the remaining quarter were from merchant guilds and the like, asking for favors.
"You must be getting a decent amount of bribes too?"
Encrid asked Krais as he skimmed through the letters and jotted down a few words. Krais nodded.
"Yes. Quite a lot. Want some?"
"No."
He didn't really need anything. He did need to buy a suit of armor, but the Krona required for that could easily be squeezed out of Krais with a single nudge.
In fact, a custom gambeson, chainmail, and a steel breastplate had already been prepared for him. Among them, the gambeson was dyed a deep blue, with a sword pattern embroidered in gold on the outside. He didn't know who had made it, but their sense of aesthetics seemed to have been discarded in some corner of the Demon Realm.
However, it was a sturdy piece of equipment. The exterior was wrapped in the hide of a wolf that had turned into a demonic beast, and the interior was lined with trimmed feathers of an Owlbear. It was a bit heavy, but not to the point of being bothersome.
After roughly writing his replies and tidying up, Encrid donned his armor, strapped Aker to his side, and placed three throwing knives across his chest.
It was a small office. As he stood up to leave, Krais asked, "Where are you going?"
"To pay a visit."
"To whom?"
"A noble."
With just those words, Krais knew exactly what Encrid was planning to do.
There was a noble who had sent clumsy assassins after him and picked fights at every opportunity. His territory lay between the Border Guard and Count Molsen's fief. It wasn't a small territory, but it didn't possess any formidable power either.
However, after suddenly adopting a son—who had supposedly learned techniques from some master of martial arts—and having that master stay in his territory, the lord had begun to run wild. He acted as if a portion of Count Molsen's fief should belong to him and went around calling Encrid nothing but a lucky swordsman.
"Are you going alone?" Krais asked, standing up as well.
Encrid had sat at his desk fully armed, clearly intending to head out immediately.
Is there any reason to bring a crowd? Encrid thought.
This was, after all, no different from taking a stroll.
Encrid set off for the noble's territory right away, and Rem tagged along, claiming he was bored.
"Let's go together. I'm bored."
Ragna had gone to sleep, claiming it was too much trouble, while Luagarne had been dedicating herself to training ever since returning from the West. Pel was still a bit gloomy, and Ropode was as energetic as ever.
In the dead of night, as the seasonal rain poured down, there were times they spent talking about this and that, and times they dedicated to training just as they always did.
The rain that had been falling for days finally stopped. It was a day when the temperature had dropped just enough to make walking and moving around pleasant.
"Are you going to cut off his head?" Rem asked as they set out.
"Don't go cutting off heads right off the bat," Encrid replied as the two of them walked side by side, their footsteps crunching on the path.
Although it was a bit far to travel on foot and he had been urged to take a carriage, Encrid shook his head. He wanted to walk. He wanted to ponder the faint, elusive clues regarding his path and clear away various distracting thoughts.
After about ten days of walking slowly, training, and hunting along the way, Encrid reached the noble's territory. Fortunately, the noble happened to be out hunting monsters, and the two parties crossed paths at the border of the territory.
The noble was accompanied by his son and twenty attendants, while Encrid was accompanied only by Rem.