Chapter 689: A Dual-Wielding Welcome
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 689: A Dual-Wielding Welcome
"What about Odin? Didn't he arrive before us?" Magrun asked.
It was the exact same question weighing on Encrid’s mind.
Odin was the nickname of Odinkar, Magrun’s dearest friend. As the silence stretched, Magrun’s complexion darkened further.
"He went with you, so why are you asking me?"
Encrid studied the Clan Head’s face, searching for any hint of a tell. Was he lying? Was he hiding something?
It’s impossible.
Encrid didn't think the man was like an elf, incapable of deceit. It was simply that whatever the Head of House Zaun said didn't necessarily have to be the truth.
But could it be called a lie?
No.
He couldn't read him. That was the honest answer. Because he couldn't decipher the man, Encrid instinctively tried to peel back the layers of the Clan Head’s words to find something hidden beneath.
To read absolutely nothing? This was a first for him.
Why?
He quickly re-evaluated what his sixth sense and intuition had perceived through his mental calculations. The process was instantaneous, a skill he had honed through countless life-and-death struggles.
I feel nothing.
There was no worry, no doubt, and no emotion in the Clan Head’s voice.
"I sent you to bring Ragna back, and you've returned after gallivanting around," the Clan Head remarked.
"Yes, it was quite a show. So Odinkar hasn't returned? Is everything quiet within the family?"
"Every day is the same. What could possibly be different?"
Encrid felt as though he were listening to an orchestra where every instrument was playing a different note. It was a jarring discord.
Nothing is wrong in the family.
Yet, outside their gates, sorcery had blocked their path, mages had ambushed them, and they had even encountered unique monster variants. Grida had mentioned that even the Scalers were creatures never before seen in these parts.
"And there's no trouble with the people traveling to and from the villages?"
House Zaun interacted with three specific settlements—the Hunter Village, the Retirees' Village, and the Broker's Village. Their residents were constantly moving back and forth to the estate. If there was a problem, something should have happened to them as well.
"Seeing how you keep bringing up trouble, something must have happened on your way here. And seeing Magrun's face stiffen at the news of Odin's absence, it must be something serious. As for recent events, only a few village elders have come up. Hescal was in charge of their escort."
The Clan Head didn't even seem to notice Ragna, Encrid, or Anne. Overwhelmed by a strange, heavy sense of intimidation, Anne couldn't even bring herself to speak, while Encrid remained focused on his observations.
Though it's still hard to read anything from his tone...
It was clear that the Clan Head’s perception was extraordinary. With just a glance at a change in complexion and a few questions, he had grasped the situation and adjusted his answers accordingly.
And then, there was the other man who acted entirely as he pleased, completely disregarding the atmosphere.
"I came to take Sunrise," Ragna announced, declaring the return of the prodigal son.
The Clan Head replied, showing neither surprise nor agitation. "I assume you know how to take it?"
"Yes. That's why I came before you die, Father. I figured it would only have meaning that way."
To anyone listening without context, it sounded like a total abandonment of human decency—a peak display of filial impiety. Yet, perhaps this was normal for House Zaun, as the Clan Head replied nonchalantly.
"Indeed. That is correct. Welcome back."
Is 'welcome back' really the right response to that?
Even if the thought crossed Encrid's mind, it wasn't his place to interfere. This was a matter of family and clan.
"You crazy bastard, was that your goal? The thing you said you came to get?" Grida was the only one who gave a normal reaction.
Magrun also seemed shocked, muttering, "Then where did Odin go?" before staring at Ragna.
It was clearly a staggering statement. Encrid kept his mouth shut, knowing nothing of the context, and remained preoccupied with the Clan Head.
The man stood before the gate in the fence, not lifting a single finger. Then, in a flash, he placed his hand on his waist. Encrid almost missed the brief movement.
His attention had been momentarily diverted, but the Clan Head moved his Will, tensing his muscles as if to move his left hand. Encrid caught the intent with his innate senses. It was a cognitive ability born from his sixth sense.
"Good instincts," the Clan Head said, drawing his sword.
There was no awkwardness in the motion. It was as natural as hair fluttering in a breeze—a strike so fluid it made one want to simply stand and watch. Not even the sound of the blade leaving the scabbard could be heard as it instantly closed in on Encrid's forehead.
Though anyone else might have flinched, Encrid stood his ground. He reacted only when he felt the sword cross a specific line he had drawn in his mind.
Chiring!
Samcheol was drawn, soaring upward with a speed worthy of the name Flash. Simultaneously, Encrid calculated dozens of paths the Clan Head's sword could take. He read and grasped the movements; there were hundreds of attacks that could branch from that single draw.
If I try to calculate everything, I'll exhaust myself first.
He transitioned to the Wave-Blocking Sword style instantaneously. Samcheol extended like a flash of light, slicing through the empty air.
Chak.
Before anyone realized what had happened, the Clan Head had already sheathed his sword. Encrid spun his blade with a flick of his wrist and returned it to its scabbard.
Tiring.
Aside from the sound, there seemed to be little difference in their movements, but...
I lost.
Encrid knew it was his defeat. The Clan Head had neither fully extended nor swung his sword, yet Encrid had been forced to swing his.
And that was exactly what the opponent intended.
Would a real fight be different?
His fighting spirit surged. While some might be intimidated when facing a superior opponent, Encrid had crawled and scraped his way to this level by facing those far stronger than him. Even after becoming a knight, he had never been intoxicated by a sense of omnipotence. He simply enjoyed the climb, moved forward, and dreamed.
There was no room for intimidation in his heart.
"A round?"
Ragna wasn't the only one who disregarded the situation. Grida and Magrun, who knew exactly what "a round" implied, briefly wished they could just kick these crazy bastards back out of the estate.
The Clan Head, however, twisted the corner of his mouth into something resembling a faint smile. If it only "resembled" a smile, it was because it was entirely devoid of emotion.
"You've brought an interesting friend, Ragna."
"He is the commander of the knight order I belong to."
"The knight order you belong to? You are not the commander, and he is your superior?"
Normally, those words should have carried surprise, but they were spoken with the same restrained tone.
More precisely, it feels like his emotions have been hollowed out. By the way, can't we just have a quick round?
Encrid was a man who could harbor cheeky thoughts and perform high-level analysis at the exact same time.
"Welcome. I won't refuse a spar, but looking at your state, it doesn't seem like you're at your best. Shouldn't you recover first?"
"This is my best," Encrid said firmly.
"You crazy bastard, do it later. Right now, we need to find out where Odin went," Magrun interjected.
Encrid had no choice but to agree. Still, he didn't think anything bad had happened to Odinkar Zaun. It was simple logic. Was it possible to capture a knight of that caliber without causing any commotion? Secondly, Odinkar had traveled the same path they had. If there had been a battle to kill or subdue him...
Could it really leave absolutely no trace?
That was impossible. There was no spell or sorcery that could glue a broken tree back together to make it perfectly whole.
"Spells merely seek change, but that doesn't mean they can do everything. Audin is much better at performing miracles than I am."
These were things Esther had taught him during their spars.
Then how did Odinkar disappear? There was only one way.
He disappeared voluntarily.
Encrid reached a logical conclusion with the bare minimum of information. The others were simply overwhelmed by the impossibility of the situation—the consecutive ambushes followed by the sudden, eerie peace of House Zaun. If they looked at the situation objectively, anyone could have deduced it.
"Come inside and explain the situation. It would be good if our guest joined us as well," the Clan Head said, turning toward the interior.
His footsteps were incredibly, uncannily silent, despite his build being larger than Encrid's.
Sachsen would be shocked if he saw this.
That was how quiet his movements were. Even the sword hanging from his belt didn't make a single clink. It was as if his boots were lined with something that dampened all sound. When facing him, his presence felt like a mountain; but looking at him now, he felt like an imperceptible breeze.
"Is the Clan Head strong?" Encrid whispered as they walked.
Grida scratched her head in frustration. "One guy says he came to take Sunrise, and the other immediately asks for a round? Are you all crazy? And what? 'Is the Clan Head strong?' Of course he's strong, you punk. Even if there were three of me, we'd lose."
Encrid nodded slightly. If there were three Gridas, he too would have to fight in earnest—meaning he would have to fight with the intent to kill to win. While spars easily decided victory or defeat, that was only because Grida didn't obsess over the outcome.
Magrun was the type who hated losing, but if asked to bet a gold coin on a fight between Magrun and Grida...
I'd bet on Grida.
Having experienced them both firsthand, there was a clear difference. This was likely why Magrun had survived after challenging Rem. If he had been a real threat, Rem's axe would have split his skull in two.
"A foreigner?"
"It's been a while."
"Have you seen Hescal? He promised to look at my swordsmanship today, but he went off to work again! No fair!"
Encrid turned his head occasionally, observing the faces of those speaking. There weren't many people in this clan village, which was nestled in a natural basin. There were about twenty people standing along the path.
Among them, one woman caught his eye. She wore armor made of thick iron plates covering her forearms, thighs, abdomen, and chest.
She's bigger than Teresa.
When their eyes met, the woman tilted her head and grinned. Humans and giants were similar in appearance except for their size, but a closer look revealed subtle differences. Giants had larger facial features and exuded a raw pressure that humans simply couldn't replicate. It was the kind of pressure that suggested a giant could crush a human like an ant with sheer physical strength.
"Whoa," the woman said, her mouth agape.
Sensing her gaze, Grida raised a hand in greeting and said to Encrid, "That's Anahera. Within her race, she's the greatest beauty in our clan."
Though Encrid detested judging people by their looks, common sense dictated that prominent cheekbones and protruding fangs were hardly the standard criteria for beauty. Above all, the thickness of her neck was likely wider than most men's thighs. Her flat, pressed ears made her appearance stand out even more.
"She's a giant," Encrid noted, recalling Grida's words.
"You're too quick-witted. It's no fun teasing you."
Having met the Clan Head, Grida seemed to have let go of some of her worries. It was the mindset of: Well, whatever happens, the Clan Head will handle it.
Although it was called a clan village, almost every house had a spacious open yard, and a spire rising like a castle could be seen in the center. It wasn't an actual castle, but a massive mansion.
The Clan Head led the group toward the central estate. As he listened to Grida and Magrun explain the situation, he spoke without hesitation.
"I believe he disappeared of his own volition."
While it might seem obvious to an outsider, it is always difficult to view things objectively when it concerns your own people. Yet, the Clan Head did so effortlessly.
"But why would Odinkar do that?" Magrun asked, matching his stride.
"That, I do not know," the Clan Head replied simply. "Our guest seems to have already realized it. Why aren't you speaking up?"
"I was planning to speak once we got inside. Or, well, if someone asked."
The Clan Head glanced at Encrid briefly, but Encrid still found it impossible to read those eyes.
He has the perfect personality for hiding things, Encrid thought.
"Who has arrived?"
As they reached the front of the mansion, a blonde woman approached. Although she wore an apron, Encrid's sharp eyes immediately noticed the two short swords concealed beneath her skirt. He could tell her skills were extraordinary just from her stride and the well-trained muscles of her forearms.
"A guest, and here is our son."
"He's my son too, so of course I recognize him. You actually managed to return? I thought you'd be lost and wandering for the rest of your life."
The mother spoke with a smirk, offering a "welcoming" greeting to the son she hadn't seen in years.
"Finding my way is my specialty," Ragna replied.
"As if."
The mother raised her hands as if to embrace her son.
Ching!
A sword appeared in each hand. With two blades drawn, it was a literal "welcome with open arms"—or rather, a welcome with dual swords.