Chapter 625: Peace Made by the Sword
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 625: Peace Made by the Sword
"Ah, Krang."
Encrid suddenly spoke up, coming to a halt.
"Yes?" Pel asked, looking back.
"I left without even saying goodbye."
"Humans are forgetful creatures. It happens," Luagarne remarked.
"Yeah," Encrid replied, resuming his pace.
They hadn't brought horses. While Odd-Eye would have managed, the route required them to cross mountains and rivers along the way. They hadn't chosen the well-paved main road, simply because this was the fastest path to their destination.
Besides, everyone in the group was more than capable of defending themselves without sticking to the beaten path. Furthermore, because they had drastically thinned out the monster populations in the surrounding area recently, the journey itself was relatively safe. Not that any monster would have posed a real threat to them even if the danger level were high.
The sky was clear, and as the sun passed directly overhead, an uncharacteristic winter warmth settled over them.
It had been about half a day since they left the Border Guard. Having set out at dawn and walked straight through the sunrise, they could easily keep going for several more hours. Once the sun set, they would naturally prepare to camp.
"If you fall behind, I’m leaving you," Luagarne joked to Pel, a rare bit of levity from her.
"Do I look like someone who spent his life stuffing his face with rations handed out by some knightly order, doing only what he was told? For a shepherd, walking is far more important than swordsmanship."
True to his title as the Shepherd of the Wilderness, Pel was highly confident in his endurance. There had been a time when he spent every waking hour herding sheep—and those sheep were far from gentle, ordinary creatures.
Pel aside, Luagarne was also highly experienced when it came to traveling on foot.
"Indeed."
Luagarne was a Frok, and the Frok were naturally a species far better suited for travel than humans. Since all their travel rations could be replaced with dried insects, their baggage was minimal, and their bodies were sturdy enough to ignore most minor injuries.
Though they had the disadvantage of needing to drink a lot of water, unless they were traveling through a desert, walking along waterways was common sense—ranking at least third among the most crucial survival tips for any wanderer on the continent.
The first, of course, was never to travel alone.
The second was to never stray from well-maintained roads.
Encrid’s group was currently ignoring two of those rules with breezy nonchalance. But they could afford to; it posed no real challenge to them.
Watching the setting sun, Encrid subtly adjusted their direction. He was walking southeast, cutting diagonally away from the sunset. The path to the elven city led downward, with the Pen-Hanil Mountains at their backs.
With the Border Guard at the center, everything lay to the north—from the former Count Molsen’s territory, which had now become Border Guard land, to the city whose walls they had almost named "Encrid" before settling on "Wail of the Gnoll."
Likewise, the Pen-Hanil Mountains were also to the north. Geographically, because the mountain range loomed overhead like a barrier, some geographers referred to the Pen-Hanil Mountains as the "Ceiling Mountains" or the "Roof Mountains."
Was it because of that mountain barrier that the temperature here was lower than in other central regions? Apparently, it was due to the winds blowing over the peaks, but only Krais would know the details of such things; the rest of them couldn't care less. Most people just lived their lives accepting that if it was cold, it was cold, and if it was warm, it was warm.
Encrid, currently walking, shared a similar mindset. He was going because he knew the way and was told it was there; he didn't particularly care about the geographical layout or why an elven village was located in that specific spot. In any case, he simply had to head south, so that was what he did.
Nothing happened on the first day.
Encrid spent his spare time training, while Luagarne and Pel sparred. Watching them, Encrid let out a soft murmur of admiration.
"You've improved."
The comment wasn't directed at Pel. Luagarne’s skills had improved beyond recognition.
"I have literally endured the pain of having my flesh carved away," Luagarne replied with a thin smile.
It certainly seemed so. In their spar just moments ago, Pel had delivered a vertical downward strike—a blow he had prepared by briefly hiding his sword behind his back before unleashing it. Luagarne had met it by offering her left arm as bait while thrusting her Loop Sword at an angle.
Of course, neither of them actually ended up slicing the other’s arm or piercing their throat. Once you reached that level, you had to stop at merely testing each other’s skills; if they fought in earnest, one of them would surely get hurt.
"I'm stronger in real combat," Pel grumbled.
Encrid nodded. That was true. Pel’s sword was specialized for the chaos of a real fight, making him disadvantaged in a formal battle of wits.
‘Though he seems remarkably well-trained for someone who claims that.’
Even if he didn't enjoy the technical battle of wits, Pel's way of handling it was as natural as if it were engraved in his bones. One didn't even need to ask to know whose doing that was. It was undoubtedly the result of hanging around Ropode every single day. When it came to a battle of wits, Luagarne was second only to Ropode. Thus, it was only natural that defeating her in a spar was difficult.
Encrid set a small goal for himself as they made their way to the elven village.
‘Let's help Pel patch up his weaknesses.’
It was a gesture of goodwill. Though Pel might not see it that way.
*
They had eaten breakfast at the Border Guard, and for lunch, they made do with travel rations while walking.
"Did you buy this knowing a new seasoning had come out?" Pel marveled as he chewed on the seasoned jerky.
"I didn't know either. Krais packed it for us."
"Ah."
Pel nodded. Krais was meticulously thoughtful, packing almost everything they might need for the journey. Receiving things like this always made one feel a sudden wave of gratitude toward him. Pel seemed to feel the same.
Both Encrid and Pel were too busy training to know about the newly developed sauce from the seasoned jerky shop—a shop that had not only taken the Border Guard market by storm but had even expanded into Martai. They had only heard rumors of it.
For dinner, they cooked a proper meal. They brought out a pot, fetched water from a nearby stream, and boiled dried vegetables like carrots and pumpkins, along with some edible plants found along the road and chunks of lucky fish.
Once the broth had simmered and the flavors had melded, Encrid used a knife to slice up some intentionally hardened bread with a crisp scritch-scratch sound and tossed it in.
"What is this?"
"Back when I was a mercenary and had absolutely nothing to eat, I used to boil water and throw in half-baked bread to make a soup. I just modified it to make it a bit more palatable."
It had been a while since Encrid cooked in the field, and while his skills weren't outstanding, they were far from the worst.
"This is practically dough, not bread."
Pel, voicing his doubts, took a bite of the broth and the solid chunks. He held his breath for a moment, then exhaled sharply like a martial artist releasing energy.
"Ahhh."
"Tomorrow I'll throw in some beef and make it taste even better, so just eat."
"Didn't you say you weren't good at cooking?" Pel sounded impressed.
"I said I only know how to make a few things," Encrid replied nonchalantly.
"Is it tastier than bugs?" Luagarne chimed in from the side.
"Is that even a question?" Pel said, looking utterly dumbfounded.
"Want a handful of these too?" Luagarne offered, pulling out some dried grubs, but Pel declined with an indifferent expression.
"No, thank you. I know they're a delicacy when there's nothing else, but right now..."
He then went back to scooping up the broth, picking out the soggy, torn chunks of what could only be described as either half-baked bread or flour dough.
"It really hits the spot."
Pel repeatedly gave a thumbs-up, muttering to himself about whether this, too, was a talent.
"Sure."
After finishing dinner, the group set up camp. They didn't particularly need a cave; wrapping themselves in their wide cloaks under a large tree was more than enough.
Their meals on the second day were much the same. Travel rations for breakfast and lunch. While the seasoned jerky tasted great, it would only last three days at most, after which they would have to survive on salted jerky. Of course, even the salted jerky wasn't bad since it had been prepared with care in the city, but it would still pale in comparison to the heavily seasoned variety.
Still, none of them were the type to complain about food.
On the second day, they passed near the area where they had previously fought off a swarm of harpies. The atmosphere of the place, which had once been thick with a fishy stench and a chilling dread, had completely transformed.
"Have you arrived, sir?"
They hadn't encountered anyone on the first day because they had cut across the wilderness, but this time, there was an outpost. In front of the outpost, a soldier clad in a thick gambeson recognized Encrid and saluted.
Drawing a mental map, Encrid realized that three outposts formed a circular perimeter around this area. The center of it would likely be just over that small hill.
‘The water supply here is too awkward for a city to be built, so perhaps opening a temporary market would be better?’
He had heard that the Trade City had recently been trying to actively utilize overland trade routes in addition to waterways. To make use of that, having a makeshift market around there would be ideal.
In the past, such an idea would have been an impossible dream. Unless one planned to throw a nightly wine party for monsters using their own blood, who in their right mind would set up an open-air market in a place without walls? After all, tents and makeshift wooden fences could only keep out wild beasts at best.
But naturally, things were different now.
The Border Guard standing army had hunted down and slaughtered every single monster in the vicinity. On top of that, they had established outposts and conducted regular patrols. These factors made monsters and demonic beasts a rare sight. Under such circumstances, bandits naturally had no chance to emerge.
Besides, turning to banditry in the Border Guard territory was an act of sheer stupidity. Why resort to banditry when you can make a decent living just by carrying bricks to build the city walls?
Of course, because the world was full of all kinds of lunatics, there would always be those who tried to form bandit groups or brotherhoods. But at the very least, they couldn't operate out in the open.
Still, it was impossible for monsters to disappear entirely. When heavy snow fell in the winter, creatures like the Ice Demon would appear, and occasionally, yetis—giants made of snow—would descend from the Pen-Hanil Mountains.
Even so, for now, it was peaceful. A small peace forged by pouring in swords, strength, politics, and Krona.
Could this be called a forced peace?
Surely not. Right behind the soldier, four peddlers could be seen walking together in a group. They didn't even look wary of Encrid’s group, despite them consisting of a Frok and three armed individuals. In the past, meeting armed people on the road would have sent anyone running for their lives.
‘In the first place, they wouldn't have traveled in a group of just four.’
They were talking incessantly as they walked, and catching snippets of their conversation, it was all about what they had seen, how terrifying it was, and how they had barely escaped with their lives. They seemed to be boasting, mixing bravado into their tales of adventure.
"I will prepare accommodations for you to stay at the outpost tonight, sir," the soldier offered, but Encrid shook his head.
"We are in a hurry, so we will keep moving. Is everything quiet?"
"All quiet on duty, sir. However, there have been many rumors lately about someone spotting a giant. Just in case."
"A giant?"
"A few passing peddlers claimed to have seen a giant snoring under a tree, and another said a giant stared blankly at his face and muttered, 'Your eyes are different colors.'"
The soldier wasn't an outpost commander for nothing. His report was detailed.
"I will keep that in mind."
When Encrid patted him on the shoulder, the soldier replied with a proud look on his face.
"Thank you, sir!"
To the Border Guard standing army, Encrid was more than just a superior officer responsible for the territory; he was a hero. Furthermore, he was a man who had risen to become a knight from the very bottom.
When someone’s status skyrocketed overnight and people began to revere them, it was only human for others to feel jealousy. But jealousy required a certain proximity. Now, he had long surpassed the point of being envied, and the scale of his achievements was on an entirely different level.
Perhaps for that reason, or perhaps because they knew his character, Encrid was respected by almost all the soldiers. This was true for those who had known him before as well as the newcomers who had recently joined the standing army.
"Well then."
"I wish you good fortune in battle, sir."
Somehow, it had turned into an inspection of the outposts leading south. It wasn't a bad sight to behold. After all, this was the result of every sword strike he had made up until now.
"Though it is a shepherd's tradition to defend oneself, that method doesn't seem too bad either," Pel said as they passed the outpost and crossed two more hills in the dry fields. He had a pensive look on his face, clearly reflecting on what he had just witnessed.
"Indeed. Let's spar," Encrid replied upon hearing that.
"Now?"
"Now."
The sun was just beginning to set. Since it was winter, the days were short. Pel nodded and cautiously raised his sword.
Encrid was in the process of refining his swordsmanship into several distinct styles. He drew upon one of them now.
‘The Iron Wall was meant for blocking.’
A full-power strike was about pouring everything into a single blow. Weaving together his recent realizations, Encrid pulled out a technique from the Valen-style Mercenary Sword.
Valen-style Mercenary Sword.
‘Intimidating without a blade.’