Chapter 729: A Swelling Heart
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 729: A Swelling Heart
One might find a gold coin on the ground and still crave more. Even after stumbling upon such bizarre luck, they might feel that the fortune which found them was simply not enough.
But Encrid was not like that.
‘It’s clear.’
The air felt different, as did the sunlight.
Encrid felt a deep sense of satisfaction at the changes brought about by the magic of Twilight. The season of warmth had finally arrived. It was time for Zaun, which had been clawed and battered by the storm, to stand firm on its own two feet once more.
“I will carry on Milestia's legacy. That doesn't mean I'll neglect my swordsmanship, though.”
Magrun had taken charge of everything Milestia left behind. Having suffered through his own severe illness, he was already a man deeply knowledgeable in the way of medicines.
Although his passion for the sword remained unchanged, someone had to shoulder the duty. If one viewed that burden as a heavy boulder, it would remain nothing but a weight. But if one accepted it as a joy rather than a chore, they could find fulfillment in the process. Magrun was clearly the latter.
“It’s fun. Zaun’s herbalism will develop even further now.”
“It’s healing magic. Simply handling herbs isn't all there is to it,” Anne reminded him.
Anne had gifted Magrun a handwritten notebook. Encrid had heard it contained treatments and countermeasures for various illnesses. Looking at the general contents and the level of knowledge within, it was highly likely that people would kill each other over it if it ever spread across the continent. In other words, it was a peerless treasure.
This was a world where people fought, clashed, and died over a single artifact. Even nations would occasionally dispatch entire orders of knights just to explore a set of ruins. Furthermore, treasure hunters knew all too well that artifacts were not the only riches to be found.
“...If you gave me this because you have feelings for me...” Magrun muttered upon receiving it, making a foolish assumption.
“Don't you have a mirror? Is there no clean water in Zaun? You’d know the answer just by looking at your reflection in a stream,” Anne shot back.
He was rejected instantly.
With her delicate features, Anne looked like a gentle lady, but she was a gritty woman who had crossed the continent with nothing but a few potions to her name. Besides, hadn't she already promised her future to Ragna?
In any case, when it was time to stretch one's wings, one had to do so. Just as Zaun was doing now.
By the time Encrid had finished his preparations to return, feeling refreshed and light...
Schmidt, who had repeatedly claimed that there were many rare sights in the Empire, finally brought one of those rarities to him—even though Encrid had never expressed doubt, nor asked for proof.
“Schmidt, is this the fellow? The one you wanted to bring along?”
The man had hair shaved incredibly short on the sides and back, as if cut with a razor, with only the top and front left at a moderate length. He had a massive build, and an angular club dangled from his waist. It was a blunt weapon with an impressively neat, square head.
He wore specially modified armor: a breastplate, pauldrons, vambraces wrapping his forearms, and thin iron plates encasing his thighs like cylinders. Since the joints were not connected, it looked as if he had taken a suit of plate armor, split it into pieces, and worn them separately. Yet, the armor curved so smoothly that it was a wonder how it had been forged.
During the height of the battle, that man named Panito had also worn special armor, but this was even more impressive. What left a deeper impression was how the armor fit him as naturally as if it were a second skin.
‘Why does it look like that?’
Was it because of his refreshed and peaceful state of mind? Oddly enough, Encrid was more curious about the armor than the man's words or identity.
“Are you Encrid of the Border Guard?” the man asked.
Encrid hadn't finished observing his opponent, but that didn't mean he couldn't speak. The man didn't project any particular bloodlust or hostility, but to Encrid's eyes, he was fully prepared to strike at any moment. Even without moving his hands or feet, and without projecting his momentum or raising his Will, it was obvious.
This man could fight at any second. He wore that determination like a suit of armor. That, too, was fascinating.
Still, Encrid's response wasn't particularly polite. “Who are you?”
He didn't tilt his head, but it was the kind of response a mercenary would give when looking for a fight. It would have been perfect for a tavern in some dark corner of a city, after a few drinks, with the smell of vomit, alcohol, and tobacco wafting through the air.
But to Encrid, this was a natural reaction. If you want to ask someone's name, you should state your own first. That was what people called manners.
“...It's been a while since I've seen this kind of reaction. It's rare when you only operate within the Empire.”
As he spoke, the man raised his left hand, flattening it out and bringing it to a stop parallel to the ground as if supporting his chest. It was a gesture telling Encrid to look at his emblem.
It was an emblem shaped like a large circle with a smaller circle inside. The symbol of the Empire. It was also the mark of the Imperial Knights.
Within the Empire, the emblem of the knights served as a pass and proof of identity—a symbol of power that commanded respect from everyone.
Except, this was not the Empire.
“So, who are you?” Encrid asked again.
At those words, the corners of the man's mouth curled upward. The smile tracing along his twisted lips was like that of a tiger. He was smiling, yet bloodlust flared. Seeing that bloodlust take shape, Encrid realized this man had to be a powerhouse on par with the Clan Head.
The pressure he exuded was like a spiked club—fierce and rough. That was his temperament. He was like a jagged weapon thrust forward without even wiping off the blood and flesh clinging to it.
Encrid’s eyes filled with anticipation.
Should we have a go?
There were many fascinating things about him—the way his armor looked like skin, and the way he manipulated his Will, which was always 'prepared.' Above all, Encrid couldn't predict what kind of attack would come.
“I am Valfir Balmung,” the man introduced himself.
Encrid replied with a slight movement of his lips. “Encrid of the Border Guard.”
Only a peaceful wind blew over the basin where the storm had ended. Amidst that breeze, two beasts stared each other down. It felt as though they would swing at each other at any moment. Samcheol let out a low cry.
Zing.
As the sword cried, the man's hand reached for his waist in the blink of an eye. Gripping the handle of his club, the man bared his fangs. They were exceptionally sharp fangs.
“Sir Valfir.”
Schmidt said something from the side, but now was not the time for him to intervene. Even so, a fight didn't break out immediately. There were many who stepped in to stop it—and they did so in an incredibly biased manner.
“That's far enough, Balmung. If you go any further, you won't be leaving in one piece.”
“If it were a spar, that would be one thing, but showing bloodlust changes the story.”
“You'd better stop. If you don't, I will swing my sword without warning you to look back.”
Those three were the first. In order, it was the Clan Head, Rynox, and Alexandra.
Even so, Balmung did not back down. Instead, he flared his momentum even more. Did he feel more threatening than the Medusa Encrid had sliced to death not long ago? It was a different form of danger, but he was undoubtedly just as perilous an opponent.
The reason for the sudden hostility? Encrid didn't know. It had just turned out this way.
“Even if you are a knight of the Empire, you cannot point your sword at our hero within Zaun.”
Odinkar stepped forward, his eyes fierce with absolute determination.
“If you want to swing your sword, go play with demonic beasts,” Magrun added, his expression hardened. His face, usually blank, was now twisted with contempt.
“Hey, who do you think you are?”
Along with them, the Most Beautiful Giantess stepped forward fearlessly. Riley and Katu, who had volunteered to be slaves, and even the children who had practiced swordsmanship under Encrid appeared. In an instant, the entirety of Zaun had swarmed over to pressure the Imperial knight.
“Who is that bastard?”
“Why is he acting like that to our Enki?”
“Is that a threat? He's just dripping with bloodlust.”
“Just because he's a knight doesn't mean a blade won't pierce him, right?”
They really had no fear.
But it didn't feel bad. They were reacting to the very situation of someone showing bloodlust toward their hero. Anyone would react if their precious things were touched. To them, Encrid had become someone precious.
Of course, Encrid could fight well enough on his own, but their determination not to stand by and watch some random guy challenge him was far greater. It was a feeling that made his heart swell.
The man who had introduced himself as Valfir Balmung stared intently at Encrid before letting his momentum fade.
“Sir Valfir,” Schmidt muttered from the side, breaking into a cold sweat as he held him back.
“I am Valfir Balmung, a knight of the Empire,” he spoke once more, even offering a smile as he extended his hand.
As Encrid reflexively reached out, the Clan Head, Alexandra, and Rynox took another step closer.
“I came to help Zaun, and I bear no ill will toward this fellow. Alright?” Valfir Balmung said to the three. From the looks of it, they seemed to know each other. “And none of you three seem to be in any condition to fight, so don't overdo it.”
As Balmung finished speaking, Odinkar chimed in. “I am perfectly fine.”
He, too, had stood by Encrid's side before anyone realized. At the sight of the entirety of Zaun stepping forward, the man let out a dry chuckle.
“Schmidt, when you said this fellow saved Zaun, I thought it was half-nonsense, but it's true.”
Schmidt shook his head. “I already told you so.”
“Anyway, I have no ill will.”
With that, he finally extended his hand. When Encrid shook it, Balmung channeled his Will to squeeze hard, but Encrid's body had been trained by none other than Audin. In terms of grip strength alone, he was second only to Audin even within the Order of Madness.
Crack, crack, crack.
A bizarre sound echoed from their clasped hands, but neither of their bones broke.
“You're strong,” Valfir Balmung said, his brow furrowing slightly from the pain.
“It's my first time seeing an Imperial knight,” Encrid replied nonchalantly, letting go.
As they continued talking, it turned out that one of the reasons Valfir Balmung had come was indeed to help Zaun.
“Aren't you a bit too early?” Odinkar remarked sarcastically.
Balmung explained that when he received Schmidt's message, he was already pursuing the leader of a bandit group. But because the bastard fled, his route got tangled up, leading to the delay.
Encrid wondered why a knight was chasing a mere bandit leader, but it turned out the target was also at the level of a knight. Was even the scale of crime in the Empire on a different level?
“He was originally a soldier in the Empire, so I know him. It's great that he awakened his talent, but he keeps causing trouble. He has a hobby of killing people.”
There were all kinds of people in the world, but this sounded like the kind of bastard who would make you curse the moment you met him.
Balmung had intended to finish off the runaway before coming, but the bastard had suddenly changed direction near here. Since he could detour to pursue him, he had stopped by here first, and now he had to resume the chase.
If that was the case, he could just leave.
“Why don't you come with me?” he suddenly asked Encrid.
“I have someone I'm waiting for, so I can't leave right away. But shouldn't you be in a hurry?”
When Encrid asked back, Balmung laughed and shook his head. “Well, a day or two won't hurt.”
Seeing him speak like this, it didn't seem like a very urgent pursuit. It made Encrid wonder why he had been so late to help Zaun, but that wasn't his place to question.
‘Looking back at the situation...’
Had he planned to make a grand entrance once Zaun's strength was depleted? But that plan had gone awry because of Encrid. And there was something else he had realized.
‘Zaun is in a tacit alliance with the Empire.’
Otherwise, such interactions could not exist. This was the reason why the Clan Head and the others were acquainted with Balmung. Then, who was the person who created this setup?
‘It's Hescal.’
It was the third contingency prepared for the survival of Zaun. If everything fell apart, it was designed to let them take shelter under the Empire's roof. Therefore, they shouldn't be on bad terms.
Yet, for Encrid's sake, everyone in Zaun had been ready to clash with him, regardless of his status.
As the Clan Head looked at him, Encrid spoke first. “I have no intention of leaving until Ragna arrives. He's a friend I might never see again if I leave him behind.”
If he told Ragna to find his own way, they might not meet again until the next life.
But Balmung, after saying he would wait, threw out a very interesting bait. “Don't you want to see Imperial swordsmanship? I'm not originally from the Empire, but the guy who ran away is a master of it.”
For a fish named Encrid, this bait was incredibly hard to refuse.
‘Should I leave Anne behind?’
If so, she would be more than enough as a guide. Ragna had said he would need at least another week. Did he say he needed that much time to finalize Sunrise?
Balmung seemed to have a habit of speaking provocatively, poking at people's nerves every time he opened his mouth. But Encrid found that rather amusing. He was a man of a truly rare personality, and an Imperial knight to boot. It would be a lie to say he wasn't interested.
Moreover, he didn't think this fellow intended to harm him.
“What do you say? And the rest of you, do not worry. I swear on the honor of the Imperial Knights that I will not harm this friend.”
These were words Balmung readily threw out to quiet the crowd's discontent. While Balmung couldn't be called an orator, he was a man who knew how to skillfully manage the room.