Chapter 617: Even as the North Wind Blows, Warmth Remains
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 617: Even as the North Wind Blows, Warmth Remains
"What if we tasked every monastery with the care of children?"
To put it simply, Overdear knew exactly how to handle people. He hadn't grown old for nothing.
Is this what they mean when they say the older the ginger, the sharper the bite?
Listening from the side, Encrid thought to himself while sipping the usual cheap tea in the monastery’s modest parlor.
Overdear didn't abruptly pressure Noah to join the Holy Order or demand he take up a high-ranking position. Nor did he ask him to sacrifice his body and soul for the greater good of the Order.
"If there are those who must go out to bleed on the battlefield, shouldn't there also be those who remain to care for and save the children?"
He was merely highlighting what Noah was already doing—what he had always done. As Encrid listened, he could guess exactly what Overdear would say next.
"Come to the Holy Order. Find others like yourself there and build monasteries like this one. I will ensure that no one ever goes searching for false saints again. I give you my word, but this task is too heavy for me to carry alone. Please, I need your help."
Scritch.
Overdear pushed back his chair and dropped to his knees as he spoke. His sense of theatrics was superb.
I’m definitely looking at an old fox, Encrid noted.
A Paladin so renowned he was considered one of the finest in the Holy Order was personally kneeling to beg for assistance. This wasn't an attitude one showed to a mere priest. It was a calculated move designed to place such a heavy burden of obligation on Noah that refusal would feel impossible.
It wasn't that Noah didn't understand the man’s intentions. Yet, even seeing Overdear kneel, Noah remained perfectly calm. He didn't hurriedly stand up or try to stop him with flustered protests.
He simply spoke with a steady, tranquil tone.
"You do not need to do this."
Having seen this much, Encrid decided his presence was no longer required. Whether he stayed by his side or not, Noah was not a man to be led around by the whims of others. He would only follow the path he held in his own heart.
Noah possessed a light forged from faith, belief, and pure will—even if he lacked the innate talent for divine power.
Then what exactly is divine power?
A sudden curiosity struck Encrid. Regardless, there was no reason to linger. Seeing Noah’s reaction, Overdear didn't look flustered that his ploy had failed to move the priest; on the contrary, his face showed a hint of satisfaction.
Watching the two of them, Encrid stood up. The rest was for them to settle.
"I just remembered I have some business to attend to," Encrid said.
"I never asked you to stay in the first place," Overdear grumbled at the departing Encrid. It wasn't a true scolding, but more of a playful jab, as if asking if Encrid really distrusted him that much.
"Let us speak again later, friend," Noah said with a gentle smile.
When Encrid had insisted on tagging along, Noah could have easily declined, but he had allowed it. He did the same now that Encrid was leaving. It was an attitude born of deep respect for another's will.
"Friend?"
Overdear blinked, startled by the word. What’s this about a friend all of a sudden? his face seemed to ask. The old Paladin’s expressions were remarkably rich.
"That’s how it turned out. A friendship blossomed," Encrid replied casually.
Overdear tilted his head. "Didn't you say you were also close friends with the King of Naurilia?"
"Yes, that is correct."
Overdear’s expression turned strange, as if he had just bitten into a pie with a very peculiar flavor—one you couldn't quite call delicious, but couldn't call terrible either.
Then, he spoke. "Shall we be friends too?"
"No."
Encrid answered instantly and walked out without looking back.
"Why not?" Overdear called out behind him, but Encrid didn't bother to answer.
"Do you find yourself in need of a friend?" Noah’s voice, tinged with amusement, followed him out.
*
Encrid stepped outside and surveyed the monastery grounds. Since it was the night after the battle, everyone was awake, busy clearing the battlefield and handling the aftermath.
The old man Overdear must have found some spare time to corner Noah, which was how Encrid had ended up stuck with them.
The monastery grounds were bathed in the pale light of a moon obscured by clouds, leaving the scattered torch stands as the primary sources of light. It must have looked similar the night before, but the atmosphere tonight was entirely different. Even though it was an hour meant for sleep, a sense of vitality permeated the air. Having survived a brush with death, the people's joy was palpable.
Sensing this energy, Encrid headed toward the quarters. Because the monastery was small, only a few could stay within the grounds. The Order of Madness had rented out one of the larger communal rooms entirely.
As he approached, he felt a surge of energy far more intense than the general vitality of the monastery.
"You glowing bear! I'll send you straight to the side of that god you love so much!"
Rem’s roar was all the proof he needed.
Then came a reply: "Do you wish to pay your respects to the Lord Father, Brother? I shall personally offer a prayer so your visit may be brief!"
Audin was literally radiating light in the middle of the night.
"If you don't dodge, you die," Ragna’s cold voice added to the mix.
Yes, it would have been disappointing if he were left out.
With Audin radiating divine light and causing a ruckus, a crowd had naturally gathered. Among them were the Leader of the Heretic Extermination Priests and his subordinates, as well as the monastery folk watching with anxious eyes.
Should he be glad that Sachsen and Sinar hadn't joined in? Or should he sigh at the sight of these men running wild, still bursting with energy the night after a bloody battle?
Naturally, Encrid did not sigh.
"You're doing this without me?" he called out, voicing his genuine discontent.
How could they mingle like that and leave him out? Moreover, he had just developed a burning curiosity about divine power, and Audin—who had recently awakened his—had parted from him earlier without them even exchanging a single blow. Naturally, it was his turn.
"I'm the commander here."
Encrid stepped between them without hesitation. Ting.
He drew his sword, time seemingly stretching as he poured out his Will. Simultaneously, he crossed his feet in a rapid stride, accelerating to insert himself into the center of the fierce offensive.
With his thoughts accelerated, he perceived every movement. Formless Will enveloped his arms, and his blade flew at a speed invisible to the naked eye.
Just as Ragna swung his sword in a downward diagonal and Rem swung his axe horizontally, Audin—who had been caught between them—spun away. This effectively placed Encrid in the exact spot Audin had occupied. By jumping in so suddenly, he had put himself directly in the path of Rem and Ragna’s strikes.
Anyone else would have been panicked, but Encrid silently thanked Audin for the opening and deflected both weapons.
Clang!
Though he had parried two separate attacks, the sound rang out as a single, sharp note. Encrid had struck Ragna’s sword with the truesilver blade in his right hand and blocked the axe with Spark in his left, hitting both at the exact same millisecond.
He hadn't simply relied on raw strength; the moment his weapons made contact, he attempted to redirect their force to break his comrades' balance. However, both Rem and Ragna recovered their weapons instantly, as if it were nothing.
"Hmph, you think we'd fall for that?" Rem snorted.
Fatigue from battle? Of course they felt it. It was impossible not to be exhausted. But they weren't so tired that they couldn't swing their steel, and believing that one could only fight in peak condition was a luxury for the naive. If you held a blade, you had to be ready to fight anytime, anywhere.
If anyone asked why they were sparring now, that would be the official answer. In reality, they were just doing it because they wanted to.
"Come at me, Brother! You must see for yourself how much my hands and feet have changed!" Audin welcomed Encrid, his voice booming with joy.
"Yeah, I haven't been slacking off either," Encrid shot back.
He had originally stepped forward to ask about the nature of divine power, but such questions could wait. For now, he was going to join the fun.
*
"It's hard to call them normal."
The Vice-Leader of the Heretic Extermination Priests spoke as he watched the chaos.
Did they call themselves the Order of Madness? the Leader thought.
"They look that way to my eyes as well," the Leader replied calmly.
Training one's body is a grueling, miserable process. No one could deny that. Yet, there were those who instinctively thrived on it. Seeing it unfold before him was truly impressive.
On top of that... I wouldn't dare guarantee a victory against any single one of them.
If one were to count the ten strongest warriors in the Holy City-State, where would he rank? Once you reached the level of a Knight, you realized that martial prowess couldn't be listed in a neat, numbered order. Ranking who was the strongest was often futile. The location, the circumstances, the state of mind—all these factors decided victory and defeat.
Even so, measuring one's skills against another was an instinct for those who lived by the blade. While he might not be at the very top of those ten, he undeniably belonged among them. Yet, looking at the men before him, not a single one seemed like an easy opponent.
To think that all of them are at that level...
The Leader knew the Holy City-State still possessed hidden strength. There were so-called geniuses—one youth had realized the nature of Will before even turning twenty. He had caught a fleeting glimpse of the boy once, and his talent had shone like a brilliant star.
But watching the men running wild now, he didn't have a spare moment to think of that young genius. Every single one of them was a monster.
In terms of pure swordsmanship, the lazy-looking blonde fellow was peerless. The gray-haired Westerner was no less formidable in his speed and explosive power. And the other two? It was impossible to say who held the advantage.
"...Leader?"
The Vice-Leader’s voice pulled him back. He looked over to see his subordinate staring at him with a bewildered expression.
"What is it?"
"You are gripping your weapon."
The Leader finally realized he was white-knuckling the hammer tucked at his waist.
"Ha." A laugh escaped his lips.
What was this? Why was his body tensing up on its own? Was it because he wanted to jump in and join the fray? He had chosen the path of an avenger, which was why he led the Heretic Extermination Priests. Yet, even he had once been young and filled with passion.
Watching them move—especially the one named Encrid—his heart couldn't help but race. A primal desire to clash steel welled up inside him. It reminded him of the days when he had first picked up a weapon, learning, practicing, and constantly moving forward.
"They just look like they're having a lot of fun," the Leader said, keeping his words brief. However, it seemed several of his priests felt the same way.
The rowdy sparring session eventually drew to a close.
"Let's call it. We need to sleep when it's time to sleep," Frok intervened, wrapping things up.
None of them were truly fighting to kill. Though it looked fierce, they weren't baring their ultimate techniques. That was how the Leader saw it.
The next morning, after they had rested, some of the priests visited the quarters of the Order of Madness.
"Could we request a match?"
These were the ones who had been moved by Encrid’s display the previous night. His skill was one thing, but his spirit was magnificent. They approached with deep respect.
Encrid was someone who thoroughly enjoyed this kind of response. "Very well."
The sparring began. It was a match that ended in just a few exchanges. The Crusader bowed politely afterward.
"Thank you for the lesson."
There was no need for advice. Once his Holy Penetration was deflected by Encrid’s Will of Rejection, there was little the Crusader could do with his specialty neutralized.
"May I also have a match?" the Leader stepped forward.
Encrid nodded. To be honest, he had been itching to exchange blows with the Leader first.
The Leader drew his weapons—a pair of hammers, slightly longer than shortswords.
"For the Lord watches over me," he murmured. A faint light began to emanate from the steel.
As for the result, no clear victor was decided.
"Are you two trying to kill each other?" Rem asked, swinging his axe to break them apart.
"Leader!"
Several priests rushed to support their leader, who had been sent flying backward with a significant dent in his breastplate.
"If we keep going, one of us will die," the Leader admitted, coughing.
"I don't think it would be me, though," Encrid retorted from a slightly awkward stance, making the Leader chuckle.
Encrid mingled with them frequently during the two additional days the priests stayed before departing. It was mostly sparring and listening to advice on what to watch out for when encountering cultists.
"The person the cultists hate most right now is likely you, Sir. You must be careful. Remain vigilant against assassins and their ilk."
These were the people who knew cultists better than anyone else on the continent. They knew an Apostle had died, and they knew he had fallen by Encrid’s hand.
Only after Overdear departed—leaving behind a few Crusaders—and the priests had also left, did Encrid finally pack his bags.
"We’ll have to continue our training once we return to the unit, right, Brothers?" Audin offered as a morning greeting.
"Training? Traaaaiiiiniiiing? Do you really want to die?" Rem shot back, squinting at the bright morning sun.
Noah stood before Encrid. "Are you leaving now?"
"I must."
Noah remembered the exchange they had shared a few days ago. There is no guarantee of absolute victory.
From that conversation, Noah had realized something. There was no guarantee that his actions would definitely help. Even if he joined the Holy Order, there was no guarantee things would go as he wished. It would be more dangerous than his life now, and there would be many times when reality refused to bend to his intentions.
Yet, he had decided to go. And he couldn't deny that this man had influenced that decision.
"I received your help," Noah said.
"Yeah."
"Will I see you again?"
Noah’s tone was much softer than before. Encrid merely nodded, calm and composed.
"Most likely."
There was no need for elaborate explanations for something that felt inevitable.
As they rode out of the monastery, the people bowed their heads.
"We owe you a great debt."
"May God protect you."
"I will pray for you every morning and evening, Sir."
Now that the darkness hanging over the monastery had lifted, warmth seeped into Encrid’s chest along with their words. Even if the bitter winter wind sliced through his skin, he felt he would never forget this warmth.
"It's bloody cold," Rem complained, naturally.
Still, he only said that after they had cleared the gates; inside, he had behaved with surprising decency toward the people. When a child had thanked him, he had even patted the kid’s head for no particular reason.
On the way back, Encrid finally voiced the curiosity he had been harboring.
"What exactly is divine power?"
It was a question directed at Audin. Odd-Eye lightly spurred his horse to draw alongside the large warhorse Overdear had gifted Audin upon their parting.