Chapter 746: The Ferryman Was Right
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 746: The Ferryman Was Right
I will become a knight.
I will protect those standing behind me.
I will erase the Demon Realm.
Tracing these vows back to their source revealed Encrid’s deepest yearning.
A life of peace.
A daily existence layered with tranquility and painted with laughter.
A life where a fruit seller greets you with a genuine smile, and someone roasts potatoes over a hearth fire to share with a hungry child. A world where a deft-handed waitress clicks her tongue and gives those children playful raps on the head, yet still looks after them with a hidden warmth. Where those who depart on long journeys return safely to hand out gifts.
Though they might cry at times, they welcome each coming day with a smile.
Yes, this was the "today" Encrid desired most. The ultimate dream he had chased throughout his entire life.
Could it be said that he was experiencing that dream right now?
In part, yes.
Then wasn't it enough to simply protect his own fence? To let these days repeat forever?
Yes.
Was there any reason to expand this fence further?
No.
Encrid listened to the answers welling up from deep within. They weren't wrong.
"Yes, this is exactly what you wanted."
The Ferryman's words were laden with Will, resonant with absolute conviction and certainty. To this, the Ferryman even granted a reprieve.
"For the time being, 'now' will continue. You may make your choice whenever you wish."
He was telling him to do nothing for now—to simply enjoy the moment.
Waking from his sleep, Encrid spent his day as usual. The Ferryman was right. The "today" he truly desired was continuing. Training was enjoyable, and the thrill of growth remained as potent as ever.
"Your training continues. Is it not enjoyable?" the Ferryman asked, appearing in the dead of night.
It was true. In this repeating today, not everything reset. Even after death, the skills Encrid had trained and mastered remained etched into his body.
Was that also a gift from the Ferryman? Was he supposed to be satisfied with this?
His goal was not to wander rugged mountain paths forever, but to spend a comfortable day in a peaceful home.
*
"Is everyone busy?" Encrid asked Audin the next day as he walked past.
"Lately, everyone has been quite diligent, including Ragna."
Rem was currently engrossed in training his squad members, while Ragna was busy swinging his sword, ten swordsmen under his command standing by his side.
Pel, who had been lingering nearby, chimed in. "Why? Should I gather everyone?"
Pel served as Encrid's adjutant, while Ropode was Ragna's. Even though they had become knights, their roles remained unchanged. In truth, Ragna's squad would be difficult to control without Ropode, whereas Pel simply stuck close because he wanted to be near Encrid.
"It would be good to see them this evening."
It was no exaggeration to call Encrid the leader of the Order of Madness and the master of the Border Guard territory. A few ignorant nobles even cast suspicious glances, wondering if he was building a new kingdom in the Border Guard.
Though Encrid couldn't care less about such rumors, he rarely forced his members to gather like this. This was the first time he had quietly summoned them, rather than issuing orders swept up in the heat of the battlefield.
That was simply how he had always been, from his days as a squad leader until now.
Goosebumps broke out all over Pel as he listened.
Why?
Encrid’s tone was calm and his demeanor was normal. There was no logical reason for this reaction.
Pel's gaze fell upon Audin. Audin stood there with a serene smile, offering a prayer.
"Lord Father, do You require my hands? Are You speaking through this man?"
What on earth is he talking about now?
Pel decided to ignore him and gather the members. First, Rem—no, Rem would be last.
"Understood."
Ignoring the chill his instincts detected, Pel set off. For the past few days, Ragna had been gripping Sunrise, swinging his sword from dawn till dusk. He wasn't practicing grand techniques or enjoying a spar. Like a textbook demonstration of Northern-style Heavy Swordsmanship, he assumed his stances and repeated the basics: downward slashes, thrusts, diagonal cuts, single-handed thrusts, wrapping over, and winding in.
It was the same training Pel himself repeated every day.
'Only with a solid foundation can you climb higher.'
Such was Encrid's teaching. Without even realizing it, Pel had learned a great deal just by watching him. In truth, the same went for everyone else.
'The stages of a knight...'
Infusing Will into techniques—that was the basic level.
Next, infusing individuality into those techniques was the intermediate level.
The advanced level was being unconstrained by techniques entirely.
'And did he say there was a supreme level as well?'
What was that? Achieving variability? To be free to become a circle at one moment and an awl at the next.
Pel had experienced a sense of omnipotence before. It was a feeling that filled his entire body, making him believe he could accomplish anything. It felt as though he could reach out and touch the sun, or slice through distant mountain ridges with a single stroke.
If one became intoxicated by that sensation, they would pour out all their Will and experience complete exhaustion. Pel had felt that exhaustion too. However, to him, the mountain was not Pen-Hanil, and the sun was not in the sky.
'The Captain.'
To Pel, the sun, the mountain, and Encrid were synonymous.
That was why he had gone to Encrid and gotten thoroughly thrashed. Someone else might have crumbled at that moment, succumbing to frustration. They might have shuddered at the talk of judging a knight's level based on "basic" and "intermediate" stages. They had finally become knights, yet they were told they had to climb even higher?
Some of the so-called "flower knights" in the Empire might have felt that way. Pel, of course, was not one of them. In fact, the entire Order of Madness was cut from the same cloth.
'I can go even higher.'
He was only glad that there was a level above his current one. If this were the end, he would have been disappointed.
Now he understood why he was lost in idle thought. The momentum of Ragna swinging his sword was like a wall that refused to allow anyone near.
'Why is he so terrifyingly intense?'
It was the feeling of finding traces of a massive Lycanthrope colony targeting sheep. It brought back memories of the days when, though no battle had broken out yet, everyone ground their spearheads on whetstones because they knew a grueling fight lay ahead.
'Ah.'
Only then did Pel realize. They were all preparing for something.
Whoosh!
A hot wind blew along the path of Ragna's blade. If one could sharpen a hot wind, could it take on physical form? It made no sense, but if it was Ragna, he might actually be capable of such a feat.
"What are you here for?" Ropode, who had been training nearby, approached and asked.
"I have a message to deliver."
Pel knew that Ragna was harboring a fierce aura. He wasn't idly killing time; he was honing his blade. There was only one reason for it. There was only one person who set the tone within the Border Guard and the Order of Madness.
"We're gathering this evening."
"Alright."
Ropode was quick-witted. He didn't ask who was calling. The only one who could summon Ragna was the Captain.
*
Next, Pel went to find Sachsen, heading toward a shop that sold tea and desserts. A blonde beauty welcomed him.
'Every time I enter this shop, I get strangely tense.'
The feeling that had been vague before was now slightly clearer.
'Two on the roof. One under the counter.'
People were hiding everywhere.
"There are more than you can sense, so don't do anything foolish," Sachsen said, appearing out of nowhere. Pel hadn't even sensed his presence, yet he was already behind him.
Whipping his head around, Pel saw Sachsen with his eyes narrowed. The moment he met those indifferent eyes, he felt gazes locking onto him from all directions.
'If I fight here, I'll be taken down instantly.'
Of course, there was no reason to fight. It was just that he felt as though he had stepped into a net woven by a master.
"I went a bit overboard with my work recently, so I'm having trouble containing myself. Why are you here?"
As Sachsen spoke, Pel's anxiety dissipated. What was that just now? It was similar to Intimidation, but different. It was coating one's five senses with Will and spreading it across an area—a technique of sensing by projecting Will beyond merely seeing, hearing, and feeling.
That was the true nature of the déjà vu Pel had felt. Previously, Sachsen had used the technique of seeing, hearing, and feeling with his Will to locate and kill enemies during the war against Azpen. Now, he had progressed even further.
"We're gathering this evening."
Sachsen nodded. The strange sensation radiating from him vanished without a trace. He was back to normal. The blonde beauty spoke to the departing Pel.
"Goodbye, cute little Shepherd."
Pel gave a half-hearted nod and stepped out, stopping before he had even taken two steps.
'I've never seen that woman before.'
How did she know he was the Shepherd? He hadn't revealed his identity. He knew she was Sachsen's lover—did that mean Sachsen, who usually acted so taciturn, chattered endlessly about every little detail in bed? The image was highly unfitting.
Of course, that wasn't the case. The Dagger of Geor was both an assassin guild and an information network. It made no sense for them to be ignorant of an excellent swordsman within their sphere of activity. Above all, even without the Dagger of Geor, the Order of Madness was already famous. They had been involved in more than a few major incidents—ending the civil war and becoming Demon Slayers were no small feats.
Within Naurilia, there were those who believed that if the Order of Madness joined the fray, it would decide the outcome of the sluggish Southern Front. Of course, that was merely the opinion of those who fought wars from behind a desk.
*
Rem was tracking and killing monsters deep within the mountains. When Pel found him, he was facing five trolls.
The five trolls stood in a coordinated circle. A siege formation. Monsters often behaved far more cunningly than expected, and trolls were especially notorious for it. They knew how to fight by utilizing their regenerative powers. Though they couldn't employ tactics as well as Frok, they knew how to surround a human.
Every single one of the five trolls held a sturdy wooden club. Pel wondered where they had even obtained them, but that wasn't important.
Rem smirked amidst the circle. His smile was visible through the gap under one troll's flank.
Then, his axe moved. The blade, which never once clashed with the trolls' clubs, was like a salmon swimming upstream. After a few flashes of steel, the heads of the five trolls flew into the air. Since no monster could survive decapitation, they were dead before they hit the ground.
Stepping out from between the corpses dripping black blood, Rem spoke.
"Just because you're surrounded, does that mean there's nowhere to escape? No, an opening always exists. The moment you give up is when you die, you fools."
His method of training his squad members was already legendary. Men who were rough enough to defy description answered in unison.
"Ha!"
Did he make them replace their answers with battle cries?
"Right, sorry for feeding you such mediocre monster blood," Rem said to his axe, then gestured to Pel with his eyes.
"We're gathering this evening."
Once again, Pel omitted who had called them, but everyone understood perfectly.
"He should have called us sooner."
Rem bared his teeth in a grin. Facing that smile made Pel's stomach churn. His aura shifted, and Rem's Intimidation pressed down on the surrounding area.
"We're all going to die, Captain!" one of the squad members cried out.
Rem, maintaining his smile, replied, "Endure it. No one dies from just this."
If even Pel found it uncomfortable, how could those who weren't even knights endure it? Still, it was none of his business. It wasn't his place to interfere with another squad's training. Besides, Encrid's own personal guard was likely undergoing their own harsh training anyway.
*
"Well then."
Pel bid farewell and headed back. Since it was summer, the days were long. A bonfire was lit alongside the late sunset.
Crackle, crackle.
Meat was roasted over the flames, and fruits and jerky were laid out. Krais had brought them. Abnayor was there beside him as well. The elf and the witch were also present. They had come on their own, even though Pel hadn't delivered the message to them.
In his usual tone, Encrid spoke to everyone gathered.
"We are going to hunt the Balrog."
The content of his words was anything but ordinary. Yet, not a single person tried to stop him. No one was even flustered.
Frok was the first to nod. "I've waited a long time."
Pel felt the same. Power was now in his hands. It would be a lie to say he didn't want to wield it. He wanted to test his limits and step forward. If Pel felt this way, the others surely felt the same.
"I've been waiting," Rem replied with a laugh.
Ragna stood up, quietly gathering his sword.
"Where are you going, brother?" Audin asked.
Ragna looked at Encrid and asked calmly, "The Balrog—aren't we going now?"
How did he plan to find it in the dead of night, without even knowing where it was?
"I will guide the way," Ragna said with absolute confidence.
"Do you even know where it is?" Rem asked.
"If we keep walking, it will appear."
At Ragna's definitive answer, Encrid intervened.
"Not right now."
His statement about hunting the Balrog was sincere, but not for this very moment. He had merely shown his resolve.
The resolve not to linger in a comfortable "today."