Chapter 344 - Taking Sides

"You drink this stuff and call it tea?"

Marcus lifted the cup before him. It tasted foul. Even a grassy smell would have been an improvement. "Then why didn't you come to the lord's office?"

Graham, the lord, answered Marcus's complaint. "This was closer on my way in, and I heard fighting, so I stopped here first. Did that hurt your feelings?"

"Not in the slightest." Marcus had visited Encrid first? What of it? Graham was untroubled. These days, he was thoroughly absorbed in the pleasure of swinging a sword. Was he supposed to demand that people pay their respects to him first because he was lord? It wasn't as though he were a noble. He couldn't care less. He would much rather cross swords with Encrid himself, if there was time. Encrid looked as though he had just finished a bout. Could he ask for another? Encrid would accept a spar anytime, but probably not right now, with Marcus sitting here. Only the lord, Marcus, Encrid, and Krais sat in the dining hall. The company members seemed to have no intention of joining a headache-inducing discussion. "Looks like he's got nothing to do and came to play. Humor him a bit, then come back."

That was all Rem had said before turning away. While Marcus was busy complaining about the tea, Encrid took note of the two guards standing behind him. The one on the left, in particular, caught his attention: a tall, long-armed man with a whip wrapped around his waist. A pointed weight hung from its tip. Getting hit with that would do more than hurt. How would he react if someone rushed in to close the distance? Encrid was curious. A whip was a long-reach weapon; distance would favor its wielder. It demanded that its user maintain a range where he could strike without being struck. In skilled hands, it would be all the more dangerous. That made Encrid want to face him. After all, he wielded an unusual weapon. "I hear you wouldn't even give our Kin a glance?"

Marcus addressed Encrid without warning, and Encrid had no idea what he meant. He didn't even know who Kin was. "The beauty who visited you on behalf of our house. Don't you remember?"

"Ah."

It hadn't been long enough for him to forget. He simply hadn't given her much thought. "Kin was hopping mad that you hadn't even asked her name."

Marcus took a sip of tea, then set down the cup. Apparently unwilling to drink any more, he pushed it aside altogether. Encrid acknowledged the truth of that. He hadn't asked her name. She had waited two days, and he had told her to leave as soon as she arrived. "Was she?"

"You're not interested at all."

"Should I be?"

"No need." Marcus kept chuckling. Had he come to visit because he had time on his hands? Surely not. Sitting nearby, Krais discreetly studied his expression, working out his intentions. His sharp mind raced, turning up questions and answers in succession. Why come all the way here at this particular moment? To tell them to stop expanding the city? Probably not.

'No, he must have used that as an excuse to get away.' He would have volunteered to talk some sense into them as their former lord. A valid reason, and a justification for a trip away. More importantly, why had Marcus been summoned from Border Guard in the first place? With his troops increasing, they had accused him of plotting treason and told him to come to the capital if he had a guilty conscience. So he had gone. Yet even without Marcus, the city had grown larger. Its troops had increased. It was swelling in size. One could reasonably call it the rise of a threatening military faction. "See? It's not my fault! So let me go talk them into behaving!"

He would have phrased it more elegantly, but the substance would have been much the same. If he pressed the point a little, getting away wouldn't have been difficult. Then had he truly come to deliver a warning? It didn't seem that way. That was Krais's intuition. What was his real reason for coming here now? There had to be a reason he had left the capital. What did he want? What was he hoping for? What did Border Guard have? Krais's gaze naturally drifted sideways. He saw Encrid's profile: the black-haired, blue-eyed, exceedingly dangerous Lunatic Company Commander. From the royal palace's perspective, he was a blade that had appeared out of nowhere. 'Ah.'

Only then did Krais grasp part of the situation.

'The Captain is here.' Encrid's very existence was like a meteor fallen from the sky. A red-hot meteorite drew eyes simply by existing. The number watching him could only have increased, not diminished. Some of those eyes were friendly, others hostile. Marcus was on the friendly side, but there was nothing more fucking stupid than trusting someone in politics. Krais knew that from the books he had read as a child, from experience, and from instinct. Likewise, Marcus would not readily trust Encrid. 'So he's here to make sure.'

What did that mean? While Encrid, Marcus, and the lord exchanged a few trivial remarks, Krais kept thinking. He formed hypotheses and repeatedly tested them against what had happened. What he already knew, and what he had deduced and confirmed. What he hadn't known but could readily understand now. What he knew nothing about and had to leave shrouded in darkness. These things fell into order in his mind, stacking neatly into a conclusion. Only after reviewing what he knew did Krais open his mouth. The Captain needed to know this to respond. Left alone, he would be dragged along. Though, being who he was, perhaps the Captain wouldn't be. Still, Krais couldn't ignore a danger he could see. Why did the sight of the Captain's back, shielding him, come to mind at this moment? He couldn't say. In any case, some matters had to be challenged. Fail to do so at the right moment, and you put yourself at a disadvantage. Krais knew that. So he opened his mouth and set his tongue to work. "Have you come to make sure?"

Graham was the first to turn at the abrupt question. Apart from training, the lord had been sleeping soundly and resting well. He had pushed all his work onto his adjutant. In truth, Krais had handled everything lately, with the adjutant merely assisting. With the lord's tacit consent, he had even recruited several people to work under him, all to handle administrative matters. The Roquefried trading company had also been a great help. When it came to working with numbers, at least, no one could outdo them. All that rest had left the lord's eyes clear. He fixed them on Krais.

"What are you trying to say?"

Marcus hadn't made Graham lord for nothing. Graham knew exactly when to step in. Marcus merely watched in silence. "Why leave a man who styles himself king alone? Why neglect the defense of the realm?"

Krais raised his voice a little. The lord's brow furrowed. Those words crossed a line. Depending on how they were taken, they could amount to talk of treason. That would be a problem. They were already facing complaints and pressure over their expanded forces. Much of their ability to hold out so far had been thanks to Marcus. He had fended off enough of it at the center. So what was this? Krais laid his hands on the table, laced his fingers together, and leaned forward slightly.

"Even if we raised an army here, the central authorities wouldn't send troops. No, they couldn't." Marcus looked at him. Before the lord could speak, Marcus asked,

"Why do you think that?"

"Didn't I just say?"

"Leaving a self-proclaimed king alone? Neglecting the realm's defenses?" They left places alone even when monsters and demonic beasts ran rampant and people called them lesser Demonic Realms. If the Lunatic Company's members, who weren't even knights, could solve the problem, a knight order could too. Krais had seen the proto knight Aesia and the Frog Luagarne before. If the authorities could send those two, couldn't they deal with lesser Demonic Realms? Yet they hadn't. No, they couldn't. They could send a single proto knight, but not a contingent from a knight order. Why? 'They have nothing to spare.'

That was Krais's conclusion. "Something is happening at the center. Something more dangerous and threatening than the King of the Frontier or monsters and demonic beasts that need clearing out." Look at this bastard. Marcus's eyes swept over Big-eyes. Had he always been this good? Yes, Marcus had to admit he was impressed. Upon arriving in Border Guard, he had found the city transformed in scale. The squads stationed at guard posts throughout the surrounding area were particularly impressive. Was that merely a measure against monsters and demonic beasts? No, it had several other effects. First, it earned the trust of traveling merchants. Once the guard posts were firmly established, even peddlers traveling in small groups might be able to use the roads, provided more posts were built at closer intervals. And their number looked set to grow soon. Marcus had seen it himself: the bottleneck as people from the surrounding area converged on this place. The merchants' trust would send gold, the city's lifeblood, coursing vigorously through it. The more copper, silver, and gold coins circulated, and the faster and smoother that circulation, the larger and richer the city would become. Given that,

'It's no wonder the neighboring lords are raising hell.' A territory's people were its strength. Yet the people who should be farming were running off to a neighboring territory. Border Guard had more than enough capacity to take them in. Didn't it have Green Pearl? It had remained uncultivated only because they lacked hands, food, beds, and living space. There was no other reason. All of those problems could be solved with Krona. 'Earn gold through trade.'

Draw people in through word of mouth. It was an ingenious plan. Nor was that the guard posts' only effect. The second was equally clear.

'An excuse.' Expanding forces attracted the central authorities' scrutiny. This gave them something to say when that happened. They needed the manpower to fight monsters and demonic beasts. In return, hadn't they made the trade routes safe? They weren't gathering troops to wage war. The guard posts let them say that. Wasn't it obvious from the way they were dispersing their troops rather than concentrating them? Would someone who had gone this far stop here? No. Marcus wouldn't, in his place. He would expand and extend the trade routes, linking guard posts all the way to neighboring territories. He couldn't connect them all. That was impossible.

'But he could found a few more frontier cities instead.' He could picture a trading territory spreading like a web from Border Guard. A vast domain backed by the enormous farmlands of Green Pearl, with a military force too large to dismiss. A land broader, more fertile, and with greater reserves of strength than the territory of Count Molsen, the so-called King of the Frontier. Had Krais looked that far ahead?

'Of course.'

Why else would he have done any of this? Marcus had wondered whose idea it was. Apparently, it had come from the big-eyed fellow before him. Marcus could understand it only because he had seen the results. Asked to devise it himself, he would never have managed. Marcus, too, rested his elbows on the table. He laced his fingers and propped his chin on them.

"You said something was happening at the center. What do you think it is?"

"That, I don't know."

Krais shrugged and leaned back. He wouldn't speak carelessly about something he didn't know? Even though he had a rough idea? This bastard really was interesting. "You speak insolently to my lord."

When Krais instead leaned back with that sly shrug, Marcus's guard spoke up. Krais didn't even look at him. Instead, someone else spoke.

"Feels like we've got things backward here."

As Encrid spoke, he reflected that normally, it should be his subordinate stepping in to say this sort of thing on his behalf. Well, it didn't matter. He continued. "Stay out of it. You'll lose your head."

At the words delivered without so much as a glance, veins rose on the back of the guard's hand. He laid it on his sword grip and let his presence swell. He looked ready to lunge at any moment. A proto knight? No. But he bore the marks of someone who had survived some very dangerous places. Encrid knew the man was underestimating him. No matter how widely rumors spread, some people would refuse to believe them. Hadn't he seen it countless times himself? Occasionally, someone would come on the Frog Meellun's day off, or someone Meellun didn't want to deal with would appear. Men clearly more skilled than ordinary soldiers, who claimed to be on a proto knight's "level." They were usually guards for some trading company or noble, rather than ordinary mercenaries. Just like the man before him. "Draw it and you really will get hit. Run your mouth and you'll get hit too."

Encrid warned him again. Marcus watched with interest and made no move to stop him, so the guard made up his mind. He would teach this insolent bastard a lesson. A blow with the flat of his blade would do. CLICK.

He released the catch on his scabbard. It wasn't Encrid's cheek he intended to strike, but Krais's. "Don't."

Graham spoke with concern, but to no avail. The guard drew his sword with a hiss. Just as he was about to point it forward, Encrid rose, pushing his chair back. It scraped across the floor, then tipped over backward. As the chair fell, Encrid vanished. At least, that was how it looked to the guard. It was the Will of the Instant. Encrid closed the distance until he was right in the guard's face. "Huh!"

Startled, the man pulled his sword back. Encrid lightly pressed down on his sword hand and drove his other elbow in. THUD. His elbow struck between the man's lower belly and heart.

"Ghk!"

He had hit the passage through which breath flowed, a vital point Audin had taught him. The guard flailed with a strangled gasp, then crumpled to the floor. The other guard didn't attack. He seemed less hasty than this one. He merely stood behind Marcus, watching steadily. Leaving the fallen fellow where he was, Encrid straightened. He could add a word of his own. Krais had asked whether Marcus had come to make sure, and Marcus hadn't answered. Make sure of what? Krais had judged it dangerous and left the final words unspoken. Encrid was different. Frankly, he didn't care.

"A civil war?"

So he asked. What had Marcus come to ascertain? Who stood on which side. Were they on his side or the other side? And why would he be drawing those lines? A fight. A war. If it were a war against an enemy nation, there would be no need for this. In other words, a civil war. "You're quick on the uptake," Marcus said.

Encrid watched the fallen fellow in case he tried attacking again. But the man merely rose hesitantly, took a step back, and rubbed his stomach. His glare was murderous, but apparently he wasn't an idiot. He seemed to have felt the difference in their abilities quite clearly. "A man worthy of turning Kin down, indeed," Marcus added.

Encrid wondered what that had to do with anything.