Chapter 597: A Deep Blue Winter Sky, Flowers, a Child, and a Fool
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 597: A Deep Blue Winter Sky, Flowers, a Child, and a Fool
"We'll see about that when you're looking for a corner to crawl into later, you little bastard."
The Ferryman ultimately failed to maintain his composure. A demon had surely taken up residence in that bastard's mouth.
"Get lost," the Ferryman repeated.
Encrid opened his mouth to retort, but the Ferryman couldn't bear to watch the shape of his lips. It looked like they were about to pucker up to make that "Pfft" sound again.
It was only after he had sent that madman Encrid away that the Ferryman sat on the gunwale, staring at the lamp's glow and looking toward the coming dawn.
‘Let’s see how he moves forward this time.’
The Ferryman was slightly surprised by his own thoughts. It was the phrasing he had just whispered to himself.
Instead of the certain future where Encrid would inevitably be trapped in today and suffer, he had spoken of an uncertain future—of how the man would forge ahead.
‘Am I actually feeling... anticipation?’
Was it because of what that bastard Encrid had shown him so far? Perhaps. Even so, he still believed the end would be far from pleasant.
And why wouldn't it be? He had seen countless heroes and countless great figures over the ages. Some of them had gone even further than what Encrid had achieved now.
But how had they ended?
The Ferryman tried to converse with the voices inside him. They all sang a similar tune.
"He will end up mixed in with the rest of us anyway."
"Anticipation? What a foolish thought."
"Is he still holding out?"
"Convince him that this isn't a repeating today, but eternal life."
Only a tiny fraction of them offered a different perspective.
"Will we get to see him shudder in agony? That would be entertaining."
"How do you think he will endure this time?"
It was genuine anticipation. To think there would be such a lukewarm reaction instead of the usual discouragement and despair.
The Ferryman was not originally a single entity. He was many. It was only natural that Encrid felt the Ferryman of today was different every time they met. Thus, it was natural that their individual opinions did not align. However, though they were many, they were also one.
At their core, what that collective Ferryman desired was a new companion.
That unity was now showing cracks. This was the result of a single human's terrible madness and obsession.
"What are you trying to do? What are you expecting?" one of the entities asked.
Instead of answering, the Ferryman currently occupying the body smiled. The lines etched across his dull gray skin curved, painting a bizarre expression. If Encrid had seen his face now, he would have said that his smile was the most ominous thing about him.
*
Even after that, Encrid's work was far from finished.
Even though he had destroyed three criminal guilds overnight, killed the Evil Eye—a monster and cult experiment that controlled them from the shadows—and slain the vampire who acted as Castellan to pursue his own pleasure, along with three of his werewolf sentries, soot still stained various parts of the city.
"Die!"
Among the chaos, a fledgling group of assassins even dared to attack him.
The three moved as one, but their method of hiding their presence was clumsy. Their mindset was equally amateurish, evidenced by the way the would-be assassin shouted a battle cry as he lunged. They clearly lacked proper training.
The reason? Ever since the Evil Eye had taken over, he had treated the entire city as his personal playground. That was why the criminal guilds and these pathetic assassins had managed to survive despite their sheer incompetence.
And the Evil Eye's motive? It seemed to be pure amusement. The creature truly had too much time on its hands.
Looking at the lunging assassins, Encrid shook his head.
‘If Sachsen saw this, he’d be sighing up a storm.’
He drew his sword. With a sharp shring, the blade split the sunlight and cleaved the three assassins in a single motion. What followed was more of the same.
"O Demon God!"
When he tracked down and entered a cultist gathering, he found them trying to summon a demon by plunging daggers into their own hearts. Naturally, no demon appeared. A demon of the Demon Realm was far too grand an entity to answer such a cheap summons.
Instead, a wraith was born, feeding on the will of the dead. As the man who stabbed his own heart collapsed, a black shimmer rippled in the air. It was the manifestation of a wraith. Though not as powerful as the Evil Eye, it was an amorphous monster that would pose an even greater threat to ordinary people if left unchecked.
Seeing this, Luagarne puffed out her cheeks.
"Bullshit."
With that, she cracked her whip, obliterating the wraith in a single blow.
Screeech! Kyaaaak!
A death rattle echoed as the wraith was torn apart. The scream carried a curse, but naturally, it had no effect on them. Encrid noticed a blue trail lingering in the air where the whip had passed.
"A magic weapon?"
When he asked Luagarne, she nodded. "Jealous?"
"Not at all," Encrid replied instantly.
It was only natural; while he was usually the type to covet various weapons, this time he genuinely wasn't. He soon encountered another group holding a similar ritual, but this time Encrid cut them down himself, proving that he possessed a weapon just as formidable as Luagarne's.
Since Esther had personally imbued his Ink Gold longsword with magical power, the weapon Encrid held was also a magic weapon.
Kuaaaaaaa.
The wraith shrieked, dissolving into a cloud of smoke.
"See? I told you I wasn't jealous."
He suddenly recalled when he had first laid eyes on the Whistle Dagger. Back then, he had been practically itching to pocket every single one of them.
As they swept through the city, he even heard a familiar name in the slums.
"O Balrog, Demon God of Battle, descend upon this place!"
It was a cultist thrashing about with a rusty sword. The man chanted a spell to borrow Balrog's name. As he did, his eyes flared with light, and one of his arms caught fire, transforming into an elongating whip of flesh.
Occasionally, Balrog would possess a human body, but this was merely a tiny fragment of his power being lent out. In other words, it was a far cry from a true possession. Even so, the sight of it made Encrid's blood boil.
"I hope you can hear me. Tell him I'm coming for him soon, so he'd better wait," Encrid spoke, revealing a fraction of his true feelings.
He was dead serious. If he only knew where Balrog was, he would have charged there this very instant.
The cultist, whose reason had already vanished as flames spewed from his eyes, nose, and mouth, tilted his head in confusion. It wasn't as if a true fragment of Balrog had manifested; it was merely a lingering trace of his power. Naturally, a single strike would suffice.
Stepping out with his right foot, Encrid drew his sword in a single, fluid motion. The blade hissed against the scabbard, slicing through the cultist like a flash of lightning.
Thud. Roll.
The decapitated man's presence faded, and with it, the trace of Balrog's power vanished.
After finishing another round of "cleaning," they spent the next two days scouring every corner of the city. Castellan Louis followed closely behind, realizing anew just how extraordinary Encrid was.
‘He is different.’
It wasn't Encrid's swordsmanship, agility, or physical strength that amazed him. Those were far beyond his ability to measure in the first place. To Louis, the truly terrifying aspect of this man was his judgment and execution.
A problem that would take anyone else a full day of agonizing was resolved by him in a single breath. Was it because his vessel was of a different caliber? Or was it simply because of the sheer power he possessed?
Louis believed it was the former. The man's vessel was of a different caliber entirely. There was no hesitation between judgment and execution. He couldn't help but marvel at how any human could operate this way.
Furthermore, despite taking charge, Encrid never asked about the city's future. That, too, was baffling. Was he entirely devoid of greed? At this point, even if Encrid demanded an oath of fealty, Louis would have knelt and accepted it without a single complaint.
Of course, seizing the city outright would bring countless complications, but human greed was notorious for blinding people to such obstacles. It was what one might call the blind spot of desire.
Yet, this man truly only cut away the city's 'problems.' What lay behind such actions? Louis didn't know. It was a scale of character he could not comprehend. Naturally, a deep sense of reverence began to take root.
Thus, before it was too late, he spoke his mind.
"My name is Louis. It may sound shameless of me to say this now, but... thank you."
"It was nothing."
It wasn't false modesty; he meant it. To Encrid, this entire ordeal had been little more than a light workout. But to everyone else, it was a miracle—especially to Louis, the man who had finally reclaimed his rights and duties.
Having discarded his opportunistic, jackal-like demeanor, he now showed nothing but absolute respect toward Encrid. It was impossible to feel displeased by such an attitude. Moreover, Encrid found himself quite liking the man's current conduct. Even if Louis was the ruler of a foreign city, Encrid saw no reason to keep his distance.
In any case, a job was a job. Encrid had set a broad scope for this commission. Since he had resolved to eliminate the cultists, he made sure to hunt down every last one of them. Normally, these rotten roots would have run too deep to ever be fully unearthed, but the one who had taken up the task was a knight known as a disaster—a man possessed of monstrous stamina, fueled by his tireless Will.
By Encrid's fourth day in Cross Guard, the city's atmosphere had transformed completely compared to when he first arrived. It was a change nothing short of magical. Along the way, he had forged a few connections.
"What's your name?" he asked the young boy at the inn. Whenever Encrid rested, the child had hovered around him.
"Delma."
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"I'm going to take over my uncle's inn."
The boy was entirely serious. It wasn't out of greed, but a genuine desire to carry on the family business. His uncle bowed deeply and spoke.
"I never dreamed a day like this would come."
An adult trying to protect a child in a harsh, lawless city. True, the uncle had turned a blind eye to Encrid's plight earlier, desperate to protect his nephew and their livelihood from thugs using sleeping incense to steal a few Krona.
‘But can I really blame him for that?’
Encrid didn't want to. Even while forced to turn a blind eye to the criminal guilds, the innkeeper had still tried to do what he could. He had tried to shield the boy, and he had even tried to warn Encrid by serving him poisoned food.
That was how Encrid felt. He didn't want to judge. No one in this world could live perfectly righteous lives all the time. Of course, that didn't mean he would forgive every single person who committed evil or compromised their conscience, but...
"We don't have to do bad things anymore!"
This was the fool's shout. The Castellan had promised to conscript and train any former gang members who showed potential for reform. The fool and his companions had opted out, claiming they were sick of fighting.
"Once things settle down, I think it'd be great to open a trade route with the Border Guard. I'm planning to build a boat. I figure we can run a ferry across the Pen-Hanil River."
One of the men apparently had a knack for shipbuilding. Encrid wasn't sure why they were telling him all this, though.
"He's trying to say thank you," the fool chimed in.
Encrid gave a casual nod. He later learned that despite being part of a criminal guild, these men had quietly looked out for the citizens and shown them mercy whenever they could. They had even lost fingers for their defiance, so they couldn't be written off as entirely evil. There were a few people like that in this city.
"Here, have this."
He had spent days sweeping through the city. A familiar face tossed him a withered apple. Taking a bite, a mixture of sourness and faint sweetness spread across his tongue. Even as a compliment, it couldn't be called delicious.
"That was my very last apple."
The smile of the fruit vendor, who was missing a front tooth, made up for the taste.
The city wouldn't change overnight. Louis would have to fight tooth and nail to make it a livable place, and there would surely still be those who preyed on others. Even Encrid couldn't hunt down and kill every single bad person. Sifting through them was a chore in itself, and he couldn't rely solely on his intuition to judge everyone.
So, he decided to leave it be. From here on, it was up to the people who remained. They would struggle, bleed, cry, rage, and occasionally find joy. That was what life was, after all. It was the future they had to live, and the burden of responsibility that fell upon those who wished to protect their home.
"Shall we head out tomorrow?" Encrid asked Luagarne, who had just returned from wandering the city all day.
"Sure."
Encrid nodded and let the day pass. The unsettling, lingering gaze that had plagued him for a while was gone. It had likely been the Evil Eye spying on him through some spell.
Waking refreshed the next morning, Encrid patted Delma on the head, completed his usual training, and leaned against a tree beside the inn, gazing up at the sky. A cool, early winter breeze swept by, drying his sweat. He looked up to see a cloudless, brilliant blue sky.
Ahahaha!
The laughter of children playing in the distance drifted over. Would it be too cold to sleep out here? Probably, but wanting to savor the moment, he closed his eyes anyway. Drowsiness washed over him. It was a pleasant feeling.
The children's laughter, the blue sky, the cool breeze—everything harmonized, bringing a deep sense of peace.
Isn't it for days like this, for moments like this, that I lift my sword? The thought drifted through his mind.
Though it was still early morning, well before noon, the townspeople were already bustling about. Even the ambient noise of their hustle and bustle sounded like a lullaby. Perhaps it was because a wind of hope had finally begun to blow through the city.
And yet, from beyond where that peaceful wind of hope blew, a fire destined to incinerate everything was walking in.