Chapter 660: The Ragged Saint
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 660: The Ragged Saint
“The world calls me the Ragged Saint. Forgive my late greeting; I was busy playing with this child for a while.”
He called it playing, but in truth, he had been teaching Seiki how to control her divine power. Seiki possessed an innate divine energy that had manifested spontaneously, without any formal training.
If she didn’t learn to manage it immediately, that power might have turned inward and harmed her. Worried for her safety, Audin had sought out his adoptive father, the Ragged Saint.
That was the reason for his late arrival. To him, saving the child standing before him was a far more urgent matter.
Beside the man who called himself a saint, Seiki raised her hand in a small greeting.
“You look like even more of a monster now,” she remarked.
Ever since their first meeting, Seiki had proven to be a child of extraordinary talent. The foundation of that talent lay in her keen eyes, and this time was no different—she instantly recognized the change in Encrid.
Even if she hadn’t noticed it herself, it would have been impossible to miss given the rumors swirling around him.
“I heard the Charming Squad Leader awakened after breaking the hearts of hundreds of women?”
“No, I heard it’s because he gathered and drank the blood of elves.”
“Can someone really become like that just by training like a madman?”
Although these ridiculous rumors spread like wildfire, Seiki was innocent but far from stupid. She knew how to filter the truth from the nonsense.
“Suggesting you become a paladin was merely a joke,” Audin’s adoptive father, the Saint, spoke again.
A simple smile played on his face, matching his plain tone. He lightly patted Audin’s thick arm, a gesture that spoke volumes of their closeness.
Audin merely curled his lips into his usual gentle smile.
To Encrid, Seiki’s abilities seemed more refined than before, but what truly caught his eye was the Saint’s appearance. His name was the Ragged Saint, but his attire was anything but ragged.
Clink.
As the man extended his hand for a handshake, Encrid saw a thick gold bracelet on his wrist and rings adorned with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires filling all five of his fingers. A large pendant hanging from his necklace was set with four distinct gems, and the disc holding them in place appeared to be forged from truesilver.
His clothes were made of a soft, silky material—a fabric most nobles wouldn’t even dare to wear daily.
A poor noble wouldn’t even be able to afford a sleeve of that outfit.
Andrew, despite his noble status, still wore only coarse, practical clothes. That had been the case even when Encrid last saw him. He had mentioned buying a single tailcoat just to have something for the rare occasions that demanded it.
“If I cut back on my clothes and food, another piece of meat can go into the bowls of my people. I cannot afford to be extravagant.”
Those were the words Andrew always kept on his lips. For someone trying to rebuild the Gardner family, it was the correct mindset. It was just that living with such discipline was the hard part. Of course, Andrew had learned self-discipline by watching Encrid, so he was pursuing his goal without much wavering.
The Ragged Saint blinked his cloudy eyes as he spoke. His focus was hazy, making it obvious to anyone that his vision was severely impaired.
“One must believe in God. Even if you don’t become a paladin, faith is truly important.”
The weather was beautiful—a clear, bright spring day. In the height of the season, the winter cold had fully receded. Fresh blades of grass peeked out from between the trees that had been broken and shattered during Encrid's sparring with Rem.
Through the peaceful air, Encrid felt the gazes of Rem and Ragna. They looked over to see what the commotion was, but once they identified the Ragged Saint, they lost interest.
Sachsen had left at dawn, claiming he had business to attend to, and Esther remained in her panther form today as well.
Encrid had also planned to head down to the city in the morning, but the man calling himself a saint had blocked his path just as he was finishing his dawn training.
“This child, and you as well... do you not believe in God?” the old man asked.
“Not particularly,” Encrid blurted out. His tone wasn’t disrespectful; he was simply stating his stance.
The other man’s words and attitude weren’t offensive, but they weren’t particularly pleasant to hear either. His voice was raspy, and his face was covered in age spots. However, looking at his attire...
If he walked into a temple looking like that, he’d look like a corrupt bishop sucking the lifeblood out of the faithful.
As Encrid was thinking this, the Saint spoke.
“Audin.”
“Yes.”
“If I told you to kill this friend of yours right now, what would you do?”
The Ragged Saint spoke with the same smiling face. Encrid did not intervene. It wasn’t a question of whether Audin would obey his adoptive father or not.
Krais.
The Saint’s temperament felt just like his. He was like Krais, Abnayor, or Ermen. People like them layered various meanings behind a single word, tangling multiple intentions together. He was so adept at hiding his true feelings that Encrid found it difficult to pinpoint a single genuine thought.
He seems even trickier than Krais.
He seemed like someone who hid even more than Ermen. Regardless, Audin replied without losing his smile.
“Have you finally gone senile?”
At those words, the Saint burst into a hearty laugh.
“Not yet.”
“If you are unwell, there is a healer who uses divine power right next to us, and an alchemist who makes potions,” Encrid added dryly.
The Saint laughed once more and shook his head.
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“This grandpa is better at using divine power than me,” Seiki chimed in from the side.
Audin brushed off the Saint’s words as nothing serious. “He has always enjoyed talking nonsense. Just think of it as a divine-style joke, brother.”
First elven-style jokes, and now divine-style jokes?
Encrid let it slide, but the man known as the Ragged Saint approached him.
“You’re heading to the blacksmith’s, right? May I accompany you? Seiki, you must practice what I taught you every morning and evening.”
“Prayer? It’s boring,” Seiki replied, pouting.
“You must learn to endure that boredom and cultivate patience. Only then will you be able to use your power properly.” The Ragged Saint raised his hand and patted Seiki’s shoulder.
If the Saint had looked like a blood-sucking bishop earlier, he now looked like a wise sage. The precious metals draped over his body almost seemed to cast a halo of light around him.
“Well then, I’ll be off, Audin.”
“I don’t believe I’ve given my permission yet,” Encrid spoke up, refusing to be swept along by the old man's pace.
At that, a torrent of words immediately spilled from the old man’s mouth.
“If you don’t give permission, I’ll just follow you secretly from afar. Will you really treat a blind old man so harshly? Have I misjudged you? Or is a young man simply itching to tease this old fellow?”
Now, instead of a sage, he seemed like a stubborn old man throwing a tantrum.
“You certainly have a way with words,” Encrid replied.
“How else do you think a poor wanderer has managed to survive all this time?”
“The talent of wielding divine power?”
“Ah, you got me there. I did make quite good use of that, too,” he said, his face not looking defeated in the slightest.
“I heard you only pretend to be blind?”
“Audin, you’ve been talking too much, haven’t you?” The Ragged Saint scolded his son.
“Was that supposed to be a secret?”
“Well, not really.”
It was turning into a comedy routine, and the conversation was dragging on. Since Encrid had no particular reason to reject him and felt a desire to observe this ‘Saint’ up close, he made a decision.
“Let’s go together.”
“Please do not treat him too harshly. If you have any worries, he will be of help, brother,” Audin said, bowing his head in gratitude.
Rem, who had been watching from a distance, called out loudly.
“Are you going to order a shield from that Eitri fellow? If so, make sure to get a sturdy one!”
“Yeah, will do,” Encrid replied casually and turned to leave.
“By the way, if you see anyone trying to assassinate me, please take care of them for me,” the Ragged Saint said, falling into step beside him.
“What on earth did you do to have assassins after you?”
“Well, my whereabouts were recently exposed. Officially, I’m a dead man in the Legion, but now that it’s known I’m alive and well... there’s no shortage of bastards who want me dead.”
“You must have accumulated a lot of grudges.”
“Not that many. At most, not even ten.”
“Is that considered a small number?”
“It is.”
Since everyone had different perspectives, Encrid didn’t press the matter further.
Audin watched the two depart. He knew what kind of person his adoptive father was. He was not someone who would harm others. Therefore, sending the two of them off together wouldn’t cause any trouble. At worst, the old man would just play a few mischievous pranks.
Audin recalled the first time his adoptive father had come to the Border Guard and seen him.
“You’ve broken your restrictions and drawn out your divine power again. Let’s see... it looks like you’ve found a nest to stay in as well. So, is your mind a bit more at ease now?”
“It’s getting better.”
“Are the illusions still there?”
“They occasionally come by to keep me company.”
He had already confessed everything regarding the illusion of Fildin—the boy who had been dragged away to become a saint and died—so his father already knew.
At Audin’s words, his father had simply smiled and patted his shoulder. The question he had posed to the captain earlier was of the same nature as what he had said to Audin. There was no way Audin would listen to a command to kill Encrid. His father had likely wanted to show the captain that.
That his allegiance now belonged to the Mad Knights.
He knows even without me saying it. He must.
There was no need to emphasize that to Encrid.
*
“I know Audin belongs to the Mad Knights,” Encrid said, returning the salute of a sentry as they left the barracks.
“Just an old man’s anxiety.”
He meant he understood the true meaning behind the words spoken to Audin earlier. And the Ragged Saint knew that he understood.
As the Saint walked, tapping his staff, Encrid was reminded of two people he had met in his life.
One was the blind old man who had called himself an Apostle. Though their appearances were different, their slyness—or rather, their way of hiding their true thoughts—was quite similar.
But they are different.
The aura they exuded was far too different. The old man who had left a letter claiming to be an Apostle possessed a chilling, murderous intent, but this old man had none of that. If his current intuition was failing to detect a hidden murderous aura, then this old man would have to be a predator even more skilled than Sachsen—but that wasn’t the case. His intuition was certain.
And there was one more.
Why is that?
The old man’s current figure reminded him of Anu, the King of the East. They were completely different people living completely different lives, yet...
“Go about your business,” the Saint said. Even without being told, Encrid had intended to do so.
The two walked at a leisurely pace through the market, heading toward Eitri’s blacksmith shop.
Clang! Whoosh, whoosh!
Along with the sound of a hammer striking iron, the heat radiating from the bellows warmed their faces.
“I’m here.”
Eitri was standing to one side. His assistant was the one doing the actual work.
“I assume you have a story to tell me?” Eitri said. He had spent several days waiting for Encrid without even picking up his hammer.
“Thank you for the luck. It saved my life.”
Luck had altered the trajectory of the sword the demon threw at the very end. Because of that, Sinar did not die.
What would he have done if Sinar had died there? Would he have had to commit suicide to regress?
Encrid would not have done that. Even if his heart tore to pieces and he wept tears of blood, he would have kept walking toward tomorrow. That was the path Encrid had chosen. He would not repeat today. He was determined to reach tomorrow, no matter what.
So, Sinar could have died. Though he believed there was a high probability she wouldn’t. What the demon had tried to do by showing her its life was temptation. It was likely trying to stain her with demonic charm and turn her into a completely different person.
If Sinar had fallen for it and lost her mind, he would have beaten her unconscious, tried every possible method, and done whatever it took to bring her back. Even if there was no repeating of today, he would not give up. To be precise, this was the path Encrid walked.
Therefore, he was nothing but grateful. The sword of luck had prevented all those potential tragedies.
“It was a stroke of luck. Truly.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I also received the items you sent.”
Encrid had sent all the weapons and armor obtained from the cultists to Eitri. Encrid had only just arrived because he had been refining his swordsmanship, but Eitri also needed time to research and experiment with the metals. It was a necessary period of time for both of them.
“Well then,” Eitri said, bringing over a table and two teacups.
After taking a sip of tea, Encrid looked outside the blacksmith shop for a moment. There was no door, and through the open entrance, he could see the Ragged Saint loitering about.
On a tree standing solitary across the street, flower buds were beginning to show. A spring breeze blew, but the heat of the forge pushed the wind away.
Looking outside, Encrid briefly shared what he knew. It seemed like a long story, but when spoken aloud, it wasn’t all that long. After listening to the entire tale, Eitri fell into deep thought before speaking.
“Come back in a month.”
“Understood.”
There was nothing more to say. Eitri wasn’t even surprised by the story of breaking the truesilver. Meanwhile, Eitri’s assistant swung his hammer without resting even once. Encrid liked watching that. It felt as though the assistant was also walking his own path.
“Where is Frok?”
“He’s out. He went to gather materials.”
“I see.”
He could see him next time. As Encrid stepped outside, the Ragged Saint spoke.
“Aren’t you hungry? I heard they sell amazing seasoned jerky here.”
“Yes, they do.”
“Buy me some.”
“Sure.”
The two immediately headed toward the street lined with restaurants selling seasoned jerky. Krais had restructured the city’s layout, creating a street dedicated solely to restaurants and inns, while this side was the district for blacksmiths and artisans.
Local carriages also ran, centered around the four inns in the middle of the city. Anyone could ride the carriages for just a few krona, and sturdy donkeys carried the passengers instead of horses. The carriages had no roofs and were large enough to fit up to ten people.
There was no need for the two of them to take a carriage. The Ragged Saint walked perfectly fine, and Encrid, of course, had no trouble at all.
“You must be looking forward to the artisan’s work, aren’t you?” the Ragged Saint asked as they walked, referring to his meeting with Eitri.
“Yes, very much.”
Ending their brief conversation, they walked briskly and arrived in front of a shop grilling jerky. Next to it, a shop selling marmalade was also visible.
“Just the smell alone makes my mouth water.”
The two ate well and had drinks right next door. As they continued to wander around the city, a few people recognized Encrid.
And the Saint watched it all.