Chapter 329 - Jiraa

Shiiit, a hero has emerged from Border Guard who defeated Aspen and the Cultists!

He might become a knight!

People were discussing his qualifications for knighthood. That alone made Encrid the hottest name in northern Naurilia.

“I ought to meet him.”

Naturally, every noble in the vicinity took an interest. A peerless hero born on the frontier. The story alone had appeal, and the public adored him. Wouldn't taking him in be a fine way to flaunt one's prestige?

But was prestige the only benefit? Then was it because they believed he would become a knight? Few believed that possessing the potential for knighthood meant he would actually attain it. Only a very, very small handful acknowledged Encrid.

In reality, all the others had to say was this.

“A knight? Ridiculous.”

Still, it hardly mattered if he wasn't a knight. Even if Encrid never became one, there were plenty of uses for him. Far too many.

For one thing, his fighting prowess alone was impossible to dismiss. Unlike the riffraff who had failed to become knights but claimed to be at the proto knight level, he had properly proven himself.

Hadn't he saved Pioneer Village from disaster, to the point that they were naming a wall after him? And weren't they saying he could rival even those mercenaries known as platinum mercenaries? Even without becoming a knight, he was more than skilled enough to serve as a bodyguard.

Nor were the rumors confined to his skills.

“They say he's rather handsome?”

His face had devastating power of its own. How could his skill be the only thing people talked about? Naturally, a few flighty noblewomen found their hearts aflutter. Apparently, one look was enough to fall for him, earning him the nickname irresistible Captain.

“I must see him for myself.”

How could they not be curious?

Besides, Encrid wasn't even a city lord. His position was merely that of a company commander. He could easily be drawn into a noble's fold. At least, that was how it looked from the outside.

For all these reasons, talk spread quickly. Unusually enough, this man Encrid also offered political advantages.

'If I take him in...'

Might they slip a fork into Border Guard, which was swallowing up Green Pearl and growing into a trading city? It was entirely possible.

For one reason or another, Encrid's name was on everyone's lips. It spread far and wide, reaching the capital in no time. His name first came up in a salon, and eventually reached even the Queen's ears.

Outdoors at a royal villa, beneath the stars, she asked,

“What do you think, Lua?”

At the Queen's question, the Frog Luagarne puffed out her cheeks.

CROOOAK.

It was an expression of utter joy and delight. What had made the Frog's cheeks swell like that?

“Have you fallen for him too?”

The Queen knew she had already met Encrid, come to know him, and spent time with him. Luagarne answered her question.

“I fell for him the moment I saw him.”

Though she served the kingdom, a Frog was not human. No one forced human etiquette upon her. That was why Luagarne spoke so freely to the Queen. Besides, this was a private gathering.

They were talking over expensive wine crafted with a Fairy's touch. A few attendants stood nearby, each quietly attending to their duties.

“Because he's handsome?”

The Queen raised her glass to her lips and took a sip as she asked.

Luagarne gave an answer rare for a Frog who appreciated human beauty and coveted handsome faces.

“It's what he holds in his heart that I covet, more than his face.”

“I see.”

The Queen nodded.

“Does he have the potential to be a knight?”

“No.”

Even at that incisive answer, the Queen's expression did not change. Luagarne made no effort to read her thoughts. This was a woman who ruled a nation. Why would she reveal her mind so easily? Besides, reading another's intentions and applying them to politics was hardly Luagarne's specialty.

Above all, she was currently engulfed in pure joy.

'Will you truly keep moving forward?'

He lacked the potential for knighthood. She had seen that herself. Yet he kept moving forward. Changing. Improving. Disregarding the views and opinions of others.

'Do you believe you can become a knight?'

Reason said he could not. Yet, before she knew it, Luagarne had found herself rooting for him.

The news that a Cultist bishop had been beaten to death had played a part in that, too. The mere mention of Cultists could make her puff her cheeks three times larger than they were now in displeasure. For a human, it would have been something like grinding their teeth.

“I see.”

Her conversation with the Queen was brief.

The news made the rounds and reached Marcus as well.

“Well, this really is something.”

He was wholeheartedly rooting for Encrid, to the point that he felt nothing but sorry he couldn't help. In fact, when he heard that Black Blade and the Cultists were marching on Border Guard, he had wanted to snatch Encrid and a few other talented people out of there.

But they had won. Their losses weren't even great. Graham's handwritten letter consisted entirely of complaints about wanting to quit being lord and talk of Encrid.

'So without Enkie, everything would have been destroyed.'

Marcus sat stroking his chin. Judging by the political situation, Encrid looked set to become the eye of the storm. Why wouldn't he? He didn't speak for the city, but people were calling him a hero.

'Get hold of Enkie...'

And one could exert influence over Border Guard. Anyone who didn't covet that opportunity was a fucking idiot. How could he stop them? The more measures he had ready, the better. First...

'Stop that bastard Molsen.'

Who was the most dangerous of the neighboring nobles? Surely it wasn't merely narrow-mindedness on Marcus's part that brought Count Molsen to mind first. He was a dangerous man who styled himself the King of the Frontier. Thanks to him, rumors of an eventual civil war were circulating.

'That bastard Molsen isn't the only problem.'

Marcus decided to enlist his family's power. The girl reputed to be the greatest beauty in the family was currently closest to the area. It would be nice if she and Encrid fell for each other, but he held no expectations of that. In any case, keeping Molsen in check would be a start.

“I wish I'd put aside some gold.”

The words slipped out as he talked to himself.

If Border Guard had the strength to fend for itself, it could easily overcome a host of problems. The political mind he concealed behind the nickname Warmonger worked furiously. How could he keep those noble bastards from coveting Border Guard? More precisely, how could he keep them from touching Encrid?

'Distinguished service.'

Encrid had already rendered plenty, but his previous achievements and those he earned from now on would carry different weight. Each new achievement would become a wall protecting him.

To make that happen, Marcus would need to pull strings at the center of power. He could use the soldier-for-hire system.

'Submit commissions directly, and have the royal court recognize the value of his service.'

That would also serve as a warning: the royal court had marked him out, so lesser players shouldn't even think of staking a claim. It would be even better if Border Guard grew in its own right in the meantime.

'Lord of a territory would suit him better than lord of a city.'

With the final picture drawn, Marcus rose.

“I wish to see the head of the house.”

He would provide all the support he could from behind the scenes. Enkie, go as wild as you please.

Marcus set off in high spirits. This was the most entertaining thing he had done lately, and his steps were naturally light.

* * *

The proto knight Aesia also heard the news and was surprised.

'He was certainly an intriguing fellow.'

The potential for knighthood? Had he been that good? His ability to overcome her intimidation and step forward had been impressive, but claiming he could become a knight on that basis was going too far. Still, she felt an odd sense of anticipation.

'Will I see him here someday?'

Would he stand beside her in the knight order as a proto knight? That didn't seem a bad prospect. She had only met him a few times, but he had left a good impression.

* * *

Unlike Luagarne and Marcus, the leader of Black Blade felt as though his stomach were being torn apart.

'Encrid.'

How could he be at ease when a man who absolutely had to die was running rampant like this? He set his remaining members in motion. One of the nobles whose business had previously been destroyed acted as his hands and feet.

He wrote a letter. It went to Count Molsen and several others. Nor did he stop there. Encrid would surely be summoned to the capital someday, so he would do everything in his power before that happened.

* * *

Blond hair, clear skin, and a mustache. This time, soft fur draped his well-trained body.

“It's been a while.”

It was Count Molsen. He greeted Encrid with an easy smile, as though he had come to see an old friend. Encrid wondered whether this was the most shameless man on the continent.

'Oh, there's Rem.'

Then the second most shameless.

No, when it came to shamelessness, there was Ragna too, while Jaxon and Audin were no slouches. And when Krona was at stake, Krais could contend for first place on the continent.

Encrid left himself entirely out of the reckoning and considered that perfectly natural. Had his subordinates heard his thoughts, they might well have swung their blades at him.

In any event, the man was shameless. Previously, he had secretly sent the Elite-Slaying Blade—a fellow who died after a few exchanges—to play his little games. And in this battle, he hadn't even sent reinforcements. He had turned a blind eye.

Yet after greeting Encrid as though they were old friends, his next words were a spectacle.

“You ought to thank me. I've spared you most of the nuisances you would have faced.”

The Count smiled as he spoke. Who tended that mustache? Keeping it so neatly shaped every time must take considerable skill.

Thinking that his own hair had grown rather long and his beard needed trimming too, Encrid replied,

“Should I thank you?”

“Has swinging a sword all day made your brain go stiff?”

The Count spoke while all but ignoring the person from the marquisate House Vaisar beside him. There was some reason for it. It wasn't as though the marquis had come in person. The visitor was merely a member of a branch family.

That did not make such disregard normal. It simply showed how arrogant Count Molsen was.

“Even if Your Excellency hadn't come, I believe I would have been fine, since a member of the marquis's house is here.”

Encrid knew that the spread of his name had stirred interest in the surrounding area. He had heard plenty while resting in the barracks. Krais had brought him news without pause, naturally slipping his own opinions in along the way.

“It's difficult even to say hello. I've waited two days, yet the Count still beats me to it.”

Spotting an opening, the woman from the marquis's house interjected.

“Do you have a complaint?”

At the Count's words, the woman from House Vaisar shook her head.

“Of course not.”

Their exchange was rife with attempts to keep each other in check. The atmosphere between them was stiff.

“So. I hear you wanted to see me.”

Encrid had no interest in whether they quarreled, so he got to the point.

The Count and the Vaisar woman stopped looking at each other and turned their eyes on Encrid.

The woman from the marquisate House Vaisar was named Kin Vaisar. She had come with two objectives. First, to prevent the Count from pressuring this man Encrid. Second, to draw him into the family's fold if possible.

The first was a request from Marcus Vaisar, the returned prodigal son. The second was a decision reached at a family council.

But judging by Marcus's attitude, shouldn't this Encrid fellow be favorably disposed toward them? At present, he seemed decidedly brusque. Not impolite, exactly, but not particularly concerned with courtesy either?

“So swinging a sword isn't all you know how to do.”

The Count spoke again.

Encrid wanted to shrug, but refrained. There was no reason to express his feelings to this man. Could a mere shrug put even a scratch in that shameless fellow's composure? Surely not. It was both an instinct and a certainty.

“The neighboring nobles want me. Aren't you dreaming that getting hold of me will let you claim Border Guard, which is growing so rapidly that it's certain to become the largest city in this area?”

'He's clever?'

Kin kept the thought to herself.

He understood the surrounding situation precisely. Hadn't they said he'd been so absorbed in some revelation that he hadn't emerged for two days?

Naturally, Krais had explained all this beforehand. Even without time to assess the situation himself, it was easy enough to understand once he heard it. Encrid continued.

“I'm not interested.”

“Not interested?”

“No.”

“Are you loyal to the royal court?”

“Does it look that way to you?”

“I would rather you weren't.”

They were in a small drawing room. Count Molsen's eyes seemed to gleam. He had been sitting on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other. Now he lowered it, settled his feet, and straightened his back.

To Kin, the Count's bearing seemed to change. Encrid, meanwhile, looked at him and thought of Krang. It was just like that time. His bearing was changing.

The Count placed his hands on his thighs, sitting straight and upright.

“There are threats to this nation, and though we must destroy them, we fail to do so. Whose fault, then, is that?”

His voice was not loud. Yet it carried a weight that seemed to penetrate the skin. In an instant, the atmosphere changed.

“Those who die to monsters, those who die to demonic beasts, and all those left behind.”

The Count continued.

“Are you saying you feel nothing when you look at them?”

For an instant, images of people dying and people living seemed to overlap behind the Count. Among them were a child who dreamed of gathering medicinal herbs and a woman who made seasoned jerky. There was a mother who had sent her child to the army, and a soldier who had taken up a spear to protect his family.

The soldier collapsed, blood flowing from his eyes, nose, and ears.

“So I would ask you this. What must I give you to bring you into my fold?”

The Count's words were persuasive. Even as she watched, Kin could not speak.

Whatever you want, I will give you. And if you wish to walk a just and righteous path, this is the right one. The Count said as much with his entire being.

Nor was he entirely wrong. Kin knew that Molsen's territory was wealthier than any around it. This man stood by his words. Simply by listening and speaking, he moved those around him.

“If you wish to save people, can you truly say the path you walk now is the right one?”

The Count's voice filled the drawing room. Filled it completely. It felt as though anyone who wished to remain inside had to agree with him.

Kin broke into a sweat from the tension. A cold sweat. In place of his usual ease, the Count displayed his commanding spirit.

It felt as though she had to give him the answer he wanted. You are right. I will follow your words. It felt as though she must.

And Encrid said,

“Bullshi—ah, my apologies. My mind wandered for a moment.”

Bullshit? Kin thought that was what she'd heard. He hadn't finished the word, but it had sounded that way.

Encrid found the man's behavior repugnant. It put him in a foul mood. These were the words of someone concealing his true intentions. Despicable was a word made for men like this.

Rem, unlike an ordinary person such as himself, might have swung his axe and made a scene. But Encrid was not that sort of man, so he responded in polite language.

If that caused even a small ripple in the man's heart, he would feel a little better. There were moments when one had to indulge one's feelings to some degree. Only then could the heart be calmed. Only then could one be certain of the path one walked.

Chivalry wasn't mere wordplay. It meant protecting what ought to be protected. That included Encrid's own heart. Sometimes, he had to protect that as well. This was one of those moments.

Still, he couldn't simply start a fight, so expressing his feelings in polite language was the best he could do.

The instant Encrid spoke, the illusion that seemed woven from the Count's charisma shattered. Count Molsen's smile deepened. Kin stopped breathing for a moment.