Chapter 559: The Blind Man and the Old Man
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 559: The Blind Man and the Old Man
Clatter.
Plates were set down on the table in quick succession.
While Encrid wasn't particularly picky about food, no one disliked a delicious meal, and he was no exception.
This was the dining hall reserved exclusively for the knightly order, located in a building constructed separately from the main barracks' mess hall. It was a space Krais had created during the expansion and renovation of the barracks.
Normally, they ate the same fare as the soldiers, but serving a proper meal whenever a guest visited was a matter of basic courtesy. It was a custom shared by the Empire and the surrounding kingdoms, a gesture of warm welcome.
In the West, showing respect meant personally cooking a dish or offering food made by one's own family, but the culture of the Central Continent favored this more formal approach.
The old man had requested an invitation, and Encrid’s nod of agreement had led to this moment.
According to Sachsen, he was a strange fellow whose presence felt bizarrely faint. Indeed, when Sachsen had released a sliver of killing intent earlier, the old man had skillfully deflected it.
In that brief exchange, Encrid had sensed something in the old man that reminded him of Anu, the King of the East. In other words, he was likely someone who fought at the level of a knight.
Yet, strangely, looking at him face-to-face, there was absolutely no hint of such strength. It was deeply intriguing. What was more, Encrid hadn't felt even a trace of it before they were in the same room.
An unusual, blind old man. That had been the entirety of Encrid's initial impression, but seeing him now, that impression was shifting.
Perhaps Luagarne had sensed something similar, as she was busy observing the old man, her large eyes darting back and forth.
What would she see with her Frok talent-reading eye?
Just as Encrid glanced at Luagarne in curiosity, she spoke up.
"I can't see it."
So she can't see it.
Even the Frok's talent-reading eye was not omnipotent.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Feeling Encrid's gaze, Luagarne puffed out her cheeks slightly.
"You look pretty today."
"Can you even tell Froks apart?"
He could. Though he couldn't judge their beauty by human standards, Encrid was quite observant.
Sinar turned her head at those words and interjected, "Is your taste more toward Froks than elves now?"
"Let's eat."
If he answered that, the elf's teasing would dominate the dinner table. Since Encrid didn't particularly welcome that, he changed the subject.
"Indeed. Eating comes first," the blind old man agreed.
No one else was seated at the table besides Encrid, Sachsen, Sinar, and Luagarne. Ragna was asleep, and Rem had gone into the mountains to train his squad members, reportedly carrying nothing but a single axe—no armor, let alone rations.
It seemed less like training and more like he was focusing on tormenting his subordinates. Of course, if they survived that torment, they would undoubtedly emerge with significantly improved skills.
He had heard that the twins from the West had also joined as training instructors. The twins, who had joined the Western merchant guild led by Enri, had remained here after reaching the Border Guard.
It was fine for them to stay, as the Border Guard and the Lockfried merchant guild had joined hands to escort the caravans from the West.
If one were to ask why the Border Guard and the Lockfried merchant guild were stepping up, it wasn't solely because of Encrid's friendship with Enri. Simply put, it was because Krais and Leona recognized the immense value of the goods coming from the West, as well as the trade route connecting the West to this region.
The two of them saw that the path Enri had traveled could become a route extending from the West to the Center, and then to the East or the southeastern part of Naurilia. They had already named it the "Stone Road."
One of the primary trade goods was obsidian, along with several other precious stones. The plan was to pave a solid road with stones, starting from the Safe Road and establishing makeshift towns at key locations.
Of course, this wasn't something that could be accomplished in a day or two, or even a year or two. No matter how advanced construction techniques were, paving roads and building cities—at least a dozen of them—was no easy feat.
It wasn't a matter of simply pouring in krona to build cities and calling it a day. It only had meaning if people actually lived there. Thus, it was a project that required careful effort over a very long period.
Yet, the fact that they were so eager to undertake it was proof that the potential profits were not just substantial, but astronomical. Both of them knew all too well that when trade distances increased, profits multiplied.
And there were those who had already proven this.
In the southeastern part of Naurilia lay the continent's greatest trading city and city-state, which had flourished precisely because of its waterways. Of course, waterways alone were not enough. It was their shipbuilding technology—which produced cargo vessels and swift, high-speed boats to traverse the rivers cutting across the continent—combined with their ingenuity in building cities at key locations, that made their current prosperity possible.
At any rate, Ragna was absent, Rem was gone, and Audin had also gone out with Teresa to offer some kind of prayer. Something about helping Teresa awaken her talent. Encrid hadn't listened to the details.
Ropode and Pel were around, but both were too busy with their own training. Since they stimulated each other, if one of them realized something and threw himself into training like a madman, the other would naturally follow suit, training in the "Encrid style."
The "Encrid style" essentially meant swinging a sword like a lunatic. So, those two couldn't care less about who came or went.
Esther was in the barracks, but she was currently in her panther form. He hadn't asked why, but she had mentioned she had to remain as a panther for the entire week. She even sourced her meals from the wild, adding—unprompted—that she needed to accumulate natural energy.
With everyone else away, only Sinar, Luagarne, Encrid, and Sachsen remained.
The chef, having placed the dishes on the table, stepped aside.
"Mmm."
The white-haired old man lifted his chin and twitched his nose from side to side, as if savoring the aroma of the food.
The meal consisted of soup, dried fish drizzled with a reduced sauce, and a main dish of tender cuts of pork served alongside steamed vegetables. Asparagus, carrots, greens, and mouthwatering slices of meat were visible to everyone except the old man.
Since the old man was blind, he had no way of seeing it, yet he seemed to read the food with his nose.
"You used pork. And the fish... mmm, it seems you used dried fish."
He correctly guessed the components of the dish using only his sense of smell. It was an impressive talent.
"It looks quite nice as well," Encrid told him.
Beside the main dish sat a plate of halved marinated tomatoes, offering a feast for both the nose and the eyes.
Tapping the plate with his fork to find his bearings, the old man speared a piece of meat and some vegetables and popped them into his mouth. While some fumbling was to be expected from a blind person, his movements were incredibly natural, without a hint of awkwardness.
If one didn't look closely, they might not even realize he was blind.
How can he do that?
Encrid watched him intently, falling into thought.
Based on his observations so far, he thought he understood at least one thing. The old man was exceptionally adept in all his movements. He never seemed flustered and always appeared to know exactly what was around him.
Even now, without anyone explaining the layout of the plate and fork or placing them in his hand, hadn't he located them with a light touch and eaten with practiced ease?
At any rate, after taking a bite, the white-haired old man stared into the empty air, nodded, and spoke.
"Mmm, do you know what I consider most important?"
"What is it?"
"The doneness of the vegetables."
The old man held his thumb and index finger slightly apart as he spoke, then spread both hands, continuing in an incredibly serious tone.
"These are neither too firm nor too mushy. Perfect. Splendid. From the way the vegetables are cut to their texture, it is superb. Great care was put into the knife work. This is a dish tailored to the diner. What did you use for the sauce? The flavor is magnificent... Is it pig's liver?"
It wasn't just his sense of smell that was sharp. His palate had to be among the finest on the continent. His keen taste buds accurately deduced the identity and preparation of the dish.
"Yes, that is correct," the chef replied, his voice tinged with excitement and deep appreciation.
"Mmm, good. Delicious," the white-haired old man said once more before focusing on his meal.
Watching him, Encrid found his own hands moving naturally. Just as the old man said, it was an excellent dish—even if Encrid couldn't dissect and describe it in such meticulous detail.
The harmony of tender pork meat and fat, paired with a thick sauce made from mashed potatoes and pig's liver, delivered a rich, deep flavor the moment it touched the tongue.
"Were you a chef?" Encrid asked once he had eaten his fill.
The old man smiled warmly. "Since I cannot see, I lost the pleasure of sight, but in return, the pleasure of eating has grown."
The old man gestured with the hand holding his fork. In response to that movement, Sachsen gripped his dining knife, looking ready to hurl it at a moment's notice if things went south.
If Encrid could sense Sachsen's tension, the old man surely could too. Yet, the old man showed no reaction and simply kept talking.
"Without such pleasures, life wouldn't be worth living, would it?"
The old man repeated his sentiment. He was saying his sense of taste had heightened because of his blindness.
Once the meal was finished, the chef went back inside and brought out dessert and tea.
Marcus occasionally sent refined tea leaves when the time was right. Recently, a fellow hired as an alchemist—who was otherwise terrible at his job—proved to be exceptionally skilled at drying tea leaves.
The tea brewed from those leaves was served alongside crispy fried pastries and bread baked with nothing but salt and butter.
"Mmm, the bread is baked to perfection."
The old man thoroughly enjoyed the meal.
"What an interesting fellow," Sinar remarked, watching him.
Though they weren't fully armed, everyone carried at least one weapon. And everyone present, excluding the chef, knew that the cane in the old man's hand was no ordinary walking stick.
It was a sword-cane—a blade concealed within a cane. It was easy to carry, but because the hilt lacked a guard, the techniques one could employ with it were limited.
Without a guard, a slip of the hand could result in a self-inflicted cut, and any technique utilizing a guard to protect the hand was out of the question. To put it simply, even binding and deflecting an opponent's blade had to be done with the blade alone. Aside from its portability, it was hardly a practical weapon.
Having finished his meal, the old man leaned his cane against the table. An attendant approached to move it aside, but the old man stopped him with a gesture.
After praising the chef for the truly delicious meal, the old man turned his head toward Encrid. Despite his blindness, the turn of his head was so natural that one could almost feel his gaze.
"It is an honor to meet you in person. You are indeed as remarkably handsome as they say."
"Mmm."
Sinar reacted to those words. He can't even see, so how would he know? She tilted her head in confusion.
"I jest." The old man laughed at his own joke. "In my youth, back when I could see, many a lady fell lovesick with a fever because of my wit."
"Did you perhaps learn that joke from an elf?" Encrid asked in all seriousness.
Sinar's brow twitched at his words. It was an annoying question.
"No, it is natural talent. In truth, I have never been able to see. I have been blind since birth."
Hahaha. The old man laughed, but no one joined in. They only thought, This old man is truly bizarre.
"Is his head broken?" Luagarne questioned the old man's sanity, while Sachsen remained silent.
The old man pulled out a clean but worn handkerchief and wiped his mouth.
"I have eaten well. Should I pay for my meal now?"
It was only natural. He wouldn't have sat down like this with just anyone simply because he wanted a meal.
"Let's spar," Encrid replied, as if he had been waiting for this.
They had eaten well and conversed. The old man's affiliation? His status? His reason for coming here? Encrid didn't know. Nor was he curious yet.
Everyone had a different perspective. It could be called a difference in viewpoint.
This was the second time Encrid had seen the old man, and this time, he saw what had been invisible to him before.
This old man could fight. It was an instinct.
And he will fight exceptionally well.
Why was his skill so difficult to gauge? Why did Sachsen say he was strange? Even Luagarne couldn't measure the opponent's strength.
What the blind old man displayed was, at least to Encrid, full of elements that promised a thrilling encounter. So what did his affiliation or intentions matter?
A blazing fire spread from his heart throughout his entire body. His Will rose of its own accord, conveying his intent to the opponent.
I want to fight.
He didn't know what the opponent possessed. That was what stimulated Encrid. In the first place, there could be no other reason for bringing him here and feeding him so well.
"Do you have a hobby of beating up blind old men?" the old man asked.
"I don't think you're the type to just take a beating. Will you?"
When Encrid immediately shot back, the old man's clouded eyes crinkled gently.
"I can't win against your tongue. You don't even laugh when I crack a joke."
"That's because I've already been thoroughly trained by someone else."
"That 'someone else' wouldn't happen to be me, would it, fiancé?" Sinar chimed in.
Knowing that silence was the best policy when cornered, Encrid pushed his chair back.
Screeech. Pushing the chair back with his thighs, he stood up and spoke.
"Let's go outside."
Encrid headed straight outside, not even waiting for an answer. Sinar watched Encrid leave and muttered to herself.
"We will have to talk about this in depth later, fiancé."
Though her voice was quiet, her fiancé, who possessed exceptionally sharp hearing, would have heard every word.
The elf thought to herself and stood up as well. While not as eager as Encrid, she felt a desire to watch.
Despite not belonging to the Forest Clan, that old man had been utilizing assimilation better than her own people for some time now.
Assimilation was a technique of blending into one's surroundings—becoming like the forest in a forest, or like water in water—by aligning one's energy with the environment to conceal oneself. While many trained knights who wielded Will used this art, its origin belonged to the elves.
In that regard, the old man was highly unusual. He was so deeply blended into his surroundings that even her own senses could barely register his presence.
"Paying for what you eat is only natural in this world," the old man said as he stood up, tapping his cane against the floor as he made his way outside.