Chapter 606: Setting Out
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 606: Setting Out
What do you do when things spiral out of control, defying your every intention, and watching it all unfold brings you no joy?
This isn't good.
Krais did not like how the present was unfolding. It had deviated completely from his calculations, and the deviation was keeping him awake.
It was insomnia, returning after a very long time.
Ever since Encrid’s return, and after realizing that something had gone wrong within the Holy Kingdom, Krais had watched everything unfold, right up to the gathering of the Gray Divine Army. The conclusion he reached was grim:
The cultists' schemes ran far deeper into the continent than he had ever imagined.
Even if the cult hadn't orchestrated this entire situation, they were clearly involved to some extent.
Can we really wipe out all the cultists?
How? Since no solution came to mind, only worst-case scenarios flashed repeatedly through his head.
What if there was someone among the cultists who could spread curses with a mere touch?
Krais did not know that such a person had already come and failed.
If I were them, I’d target the leader first.
No matter what anyone said, the Border Guard was a territory that revolved around a single person.
Without Encrid, there would be a void no one else could fill. The order of knights—whom some called madmen and others called madness incarnate—would scatter to the winds immediately.
How could anyone else hold onto Rem, Ragna, Sachsen, and Audin?
Who could possibly embrace them all?
On top of that, there was Esther, Sinar, Pel, Ropode, and Teresa.
Krais found it difficult to handle even one of them.
Yet Encrid remained perfectly calm, carrying all of their hopes on his back and embracing them.
If it were Krais, he felt like he would have lost his mind under the sheer weight of the pressure, but Encrid simply swung his sword, just as he always did.
"I've already spoken to Eitri, so you should go see him."
"How unusual. You're not nagging me for breaking my gear?"
"Would you even listen if I did? Also, take this. It’s innerwear woven from truesilver. Esther apparently infused it with a protection spell, so make sure you wear it."
When Krais presented the thin, translucent garment, Encrid stared at him intently before asking, "Are you sick?"
"Hey, why are you giving me crap when I'm looking out for you?"
"Go get some sleep."
Even after that, Krais didn't speak of his worries, spending several more sleepless nights in silence.
Then, Encrid announced their departure.
And though Krais hadn't really done anything, his sleepless nights vanished. Encrid probably hadn't intended it, but watching his actions, Krais felt as though he had finally seen an answer.
What should I do if things spin out of control, completely ignoring my intentions?
What else? You simply do what you have to do.
You move the way you want to move. But does that ever go as planned? If not, you start by changing the things around you, one by one.
If I do not change, my surroundings will not change; and if my surroundings remain the same, the world remains stagnant.
So, one step at a time.
That was the kind of life Encrid had shown him so far.
To add a bit of Krais-like realism to that:
Is the world really a place that changes just because you want it to?
Probably not.
Then what was needed to achieve one's dreams and follow one's desires?
Power.
That didn't necessarily mean just swordsmanship or physical might. After all, this was a world where a firm belief born of will could also become power.
Though, of course, what was needed right now was a fist and a sword.
Had all the days of training and discipline Encrid had endured so far been for this moment?
Krais wasn't entirely sure, but there was a sensation he was experiencing for the very first time in his life.
"We're off," Encrid said as he departed. Watching those who could be called knights ride off on their horses, Krais strangely didn't feel even a shred of foreboding.
Thus, he didn't even feel the need to pray for a blessing on their journey.
"Do you know what he said when I thanked him last night for saving Cross Guard?"
It was Abnayor, who had suggested they speak comfortably like friends, approaching to ask.
"What did he say?"
Krais preferred using polite speech, so he stuck to what was comfortable for him. Abnayor respected that.
"He said he just went and swung his sword once."
Abnayor watched the departing figures for a moment before adding, "Yes, perhaps it was just a single swing of a sword. But to someone, that single swing will be the moment that changes their entire life. And to someone else, it will make them realize that what they did was the worst choice of their life."
"Ah."
Krais let out a soft exclamation. The words struck a deep chord.
Had he not just realized how to face problems by observing Encrid's attitude?
If power was needed, swing the sword for the values one believes in, even if it meant using force. That was the kind of knight Encrid was. The thought flashed through his mind.
"One must know lack to know abundance. One must know how to wait to know joy. For a fallen fruit must first grow and ripen."
Abnayor was a long-time believer in the God of Abundance.
"Then it seems it's someone's turn to learn poverty," Krais said. It was directed at those who were creating a new cult around the Gray God or whatever it was.
Of course, they would never have the chance to hear it.
*
Moving quickly didn't mean they couldn't appreciate the surrounding scenery.
The sky, the wind, and the winter flowers caught their eyes.
Less than a day after they set out, sleet began to fall, carried by a chilly wind.
Snow falling from a clear blue sky, devoid of dark clouds, was a rare and magnificent sight.
Though the temperature plummeted and it grew cold, the falling sleet was incredibly beautiful. It looked as if white paint had been scattered across a blue canvas.
Grit.
And regardless of how beautiful the scenery was, there was someone whose resentment was boiling over.
"Can't these bastards attack when it's hot, if they're going to attack at all?"
It was Rem. He was complaining about the cold. Ragna, who tended to enjoy the cold, just let it slide.
He preferred the cold over the heat; in fact, he hated the heat so much that he didn't want to move at all during midsummer.
"The cold is better. Just move and warm up your body. That's all it takes."
When Ragna responded to the grumbling, Rem's eyebrows twitched. It wasn't just a simple twitch; they literally rippled up and down like waves.
It was a bizarre trick he only showed when he was exceptionally cranky.
The first time anyone saw it, it was so fascinating that they had asked if he used to be in a circus.
"The heat is better, you bastard. You can just sweat it out. All you have to do is drink some water and dip yourself in a cool lake."
"I forgot I was talking to a beast."
"Hey, go on ahead and get way out front. I can't stand the sight of you. If I send you ahead, I feel like I'll never have to see you again for the rest of my life."
It was a familiar conversation. The two of them always bickered over this topic whenever midsummer or midwinter arrived.
It rarely escalated to actual swordplay.
In the summer, Ragna found it too bothersome to swing his sword, and in the winter, it was Rem who couldn't be bothered.
"Let's go fight those gray or black bastards instead of doing this here," Encrid intervened reasonably. Soon, their twisted resentment was redirected toward the enemy.
"Just wait till we get there, you fanatic bastards."
"I am more than willing to swing my sword for the sake of those lost, brainless fanatics."
Sachsen followed silently on horseback, while Teresa occasionally hummed a song when they rode at a slow trot.
Riding along, Encrid reviewed everything he had learned so far and pondered his swordplay. Over the past few days, he had learned even more from his squad members.
"It's cold, but I'm fine now. For I can stand alone."
Sinar had changed her strategy. To be precise, it would be more accurate to say she had changed the direction of her jokes.
She would often joke that she was fine on her own, and that she was perfectly alright even if no one held her.
Curious as to why she kept making such jokes, Encrid asked her.
"Is that funny to you?"
"Is what funny?"
"The joke."
"Extremely, exceedingly, deeply."
Pausing for a moment, Sinar stared straight at him with clear green eyes that words like 'beautiful' failed to fully describe, and said, "It is fun."
Right, she's serious.
Encrid nodded calmly. Thus, they rode toward Noah's Monastery, passing through several cities along the way.
They stopped at post stations to switch horses, but Encrid, riding Odd-Eye for the first time in a while, had no need to change mounts.
"You're not hurting anywhere, are you?"
He asked because he could feel how much Odd-Eye's back muscles had developed. Odd-Eye shook his head side to side as if asking what he was talking about.
Neigh.
It sounded like the horse was telling him not to talk nonsense.
As Encrid rode on, stopping only to eat and sleep, he recalled a conversation he had with Eitri.
"Did it break?"
It had happened when he returned after shattering his Ink Gold longsword. Even though it was a sword Eitri had poured his heart and soul into making, the blacksmith's tone had been perfectly calm.
"Should I apologize?"
Encrid had asked, but Eitri shook his head.
"Not at all."
Then, as if he had been waiting for this moment, he brought out a new sword.
"It will be light. I mixed in truesilver."
Before, it had been a heavy Ink Gold sword; this time, it was a nimble blade alloyed with truesilver.
"High-quality silver from the mines near Mount Lewis came in. It's an exceptionally fine material."
Encrid had nodded once more and accepted the sword. He swung it a few times, and it was indeed light. Even though the blade was thicker than Spark's, it weighed less.
While the Ink Gold longsword seemed to absorb and swallow light, this one gently caught the light, letting it linger on the blade.
Perhaps because of that, the blade sometimes appeared golden.
No, every time the color of the sky shifted, the light reflecting off the blade changed as well.
A light, sturdy, and excellent sword.
Above all, there was an element that made him realize Eitri's skills had improved.
It fits my hand even better.
It fit his grip even more snugly than the Ink Gold sword. It was as if the blade itself was declaring him its master. Of course, swords did not speak.
"Hmm? Do you want to run wild? Patience. It's almost time."
So, he had no reason to talk to his weapon like Rem did to his axe.
During the journey, Encrid also felt the intense gazes of Pel and Ropode. Both of them looked as if they had a lot to say.
Yet they didn't speak, and Encrid didn't ask. Judging by their expressions, they seemed to need some time to sort things out within themselves. Having climbed his way up step by step from the very bottom, Encrid's insight had grown exceptionally keen. Thanks to that, he could see through their current states to some degree.
Teresa had an unprecedentedly peaceful look on her face.
"They say divinity is originally the exclusive domain of believers, but even that power is not without its principles, which is likely why a gray Holy Light exists."
She occasionally made such remarks, but for the most part, she remained quiet.
And since Esther followed them in her panther form, she was naturally silent.
Strangely, Teresa seemed the most composed among the group, despite being a half-giant.
As they rode on, they soon spotted the place where those who could be called enemies had gathered.
"I see a portion of a force ahead that hasn't formed ranks yet."
"Which side?"
Hadn't Overdear said he was organizing an army to come? It could be them.
Encrid and his companions had ridden so fast that they had no time to hear any news, leaving them ignorant of the broader situation.
Even Sachsen hadn't had the chance to gather information.
They had literally just dashed straight here.
"It's the enemy. I confirmed gray Holy Light; some crusaders are leading the troops. They are setting up siege engines in front of the monastery."
It was Sachsen, who had ridden far ahead to scout and just returned. He hadn't merely watched the troops gather; he had taken in everything far into the distance.
Looks like Noah held out well.
If they were still setting up siege engines, it meant the real battle hadn't begun yet.
Of course, Noah had fortified the monastery and held out well inside. He had also bought time by suggesting negotiations midway, but that wasn't the only reason they had survived until now.
Mull, who claimed to be the Pope of the Gray God, knew that there would be no better opportunity than now to gather her forces.
At the moment, gathering those who believed in the Gray God here was more important than fighting.
Using the attack on the monastery as a pretext, she gathered like-minded people. Gathering strength was more crucial than showing immediate results.
If they started fighting immediately, some of those who were still hesitating might back out.
Of course, the monastery was merely a candle in the wind. Once preparations were complete, it was destined to be crushed by force—a sacrificial offering to prove that her cause was right.
If she wanted more, she also intended to wait for the Holy Kingdom's army to march out before engaging them.
This was why they had moved so sluggishly, though Encrid had no way of knowing all of this.
He simply thought, They're here, and it looks like Noah held out well.
They had encountered the enemy, and their own numbers were overwhelmingly small. Normally, they would have reorganized their forces before attacking, but such a concept did not exist for this group.
"Charge," Encrid said, and dashed forward. Odd-Eye kicked off the ground as if responding to his words. Despite having run a considerable distance already, the horse didn't seem tired in the slightest.
At some point, even the sound of Odd-Eye's galloping faded, and Encrid felt his body float.
It was the result of acceleration, reaching a speed comparable to a knight's movement.
As they struck the enemy's flank, one of them reacted.
It was a man wearing a breastplate painted gray.
The man's mouth fell open in a wide circle. He, too, was on horseback. Startled, the opponent pursed his lips and swung a flail. Right at that moment, Odd-Eye adjusted his speed perfectly.
Encrid drew his new sword and swung. Reflecting the sun, the truesilver blade scattered a golden light.
The flail flew in, driven by centrifugal force. It was aiming for Encrid's forearm.
Targeting the forearm rather than the head or torso showed the opponent's experience.
Encrid flicked the blade using only the strength of his wrist. With a swift whoosh, the blade shifted its trajectory and severed the enemy's wrist.
Spurt!
Blood splattered as the wrist fell to the ground.
"Argh!"
A scream followed immediately. Encrid flicked the blade once in the air to clear the blood and turned his mount.
Odd-Eye pivoted lightly.
Not bad. Actually, is it even better?
If the Ink Gold sword had been heavy, this one felt almost too light. Yet, that very lightness made his movements incredibly nimble. It was a sword perfectly suited for fast, agile swordsmanship.
In any case, he was highly satisfied with this one as well. The wrist severed by Eitri's sword rolled on the ground.
"You..."
The man with the severed wrist couldn't even finish his sentence.
Thwack!
A hand axe thrown by Rem embedded itself in the man's skull, sending his body tumbling off his horse.
"What the hell?"
"Huh? What?"
"Who is that? What's going on?"
"Fuck, it's the enemy!"
Thud, thud.
As the body bounced and rolled among the enemy soldiers before coming to a halt, the startled soldiers shouted in confusion. Meanwhile, the madmen crashed deep into the heart of the army.