Chapter 396 - Next

The smell of oil burning in the lamp made Edin Molsen's head throb. If he stayed here much longer, wouldn't the lack of fresh air kill him before anything else did? Without anyone even torturing or beating him. 'Damn it.'

He cursed inwardly, only for worry over his younger sibling to suddenly stab into his thoughts. He raised his head and saw the man sitting directly before him, legs crossed. Big eyes, and handsome enough to make even men look twice. Krais of the Lunatic Company. Edin knew that face well. Never in his dreams had he imagined the bastard would plant watchers beside him and his sibling. Resenting it now would change nothing, so he asked a practical, realistic question. "My sibling?" "Perfectly fine. Doesn't eat much, but that seems to be the secret to keeping a trim figure." That smooth way of speaking grated on him. "If you'd fled just before the civil war broke out, none of this would have happened." Edin nearly told Krais that he had wanted to, then stopped himself. How was he supposed to avoid something without knowing about it? That his father, the so-called King of the Frontier, had planned a civil war and was putting it into motion? He had known that much, but he couldn't simply tell people. Whatever anyone said, the man was his father. Treason would surely get them both beheaded. Should he have taken the side opposing his father, then? Not a chance. Edin knew the power his father possessed. He wasn't a man who fought battles he couldn't win. All Edin Molsen had wanted was to hide somewhere quiet with his sibling. East, north, anywhere would do. That was why he had endured even while that bastard Encrid beat him. He had even persuaded his father that his sibling could simply seduce Encrid. Looking back now, his father seemed never to have spared someone like him a thought.

'Not that he'd have let me run away, either.' "Kill me," Edin said. These people were his father's enemies. They wouldn't leave him alive. His value as a hostage? Ridiculous. With a father like that? Dean Molsen. At some point, his father had ceased to seem human. His coldness rivaled the permafrost, the land said to remain frozen forever. It didn't show on the surface, but watching him up close revealed a chill that wasn't human. 'When did he become like that?'

He didn't know. It was beyond anything he could discern. At some point, his father had changed. "Why would I kill you?"

Krais shook his head from side to side, then slapped his thigh with a sharp smack.

"Now, here's what we'll do." Krais knew how to handle people. He was quick to read them and assess a situation. He had long since realized Edin Molsen had no value as a hostage. Count Molsen cared nothing for the son sitting before him. Nor, of course, for the daughter Edin had brought along disguised as a man. Another family's affairs were none of his concern, but one thing was certain.

'Edin Molsen is trying to run away.'

What he wanted was clear. There was no need for torture. "Tell me everything you know, then go to Martai. I'll arrange a new identity and a house for you. You were probably planning to sell the jewels and ornaments you brought to get yourself established. Did you think you could turn up out of nowhere and sell those things easily? You'd be lucky not to get stabbed by a robber in the night." Krais had earned Krona hiding people before. He was good enough at it that he had once considered making a career of it. He had stopped because the chances of getting stabbed or thrown into prison were too high, but he hadn't lost the knack. He could also arrange it through the Gilfin Guild, so it wouldn't be particularly difficult. "... You'll let me live?"

Edin's eyes were full of suspicion. 'Right. I wouldn't believe it easily, either.'

Krais offered an assurance the other man could accept, at least in name.

"I swear on the Captain's honor." The Captain was Encrid. In Border Guard, the weight that name carried was beyond compare. Even a passing child knew Encrid's name, whether or not they knew the lord's. "And if that's a lie?" "Do you have another choice?" Edin had none. He could trust him and talk, or simply die. "Hah, damn it. You've got me good."

Edin Molsen told him what he knew. In truth, it wasn't important to him. He didn't know the details anyway. "There are five living weapons in the county." "Living weapons? People, not objects?"

That sounded like the wrong way to count weapons. "It means five warriors, each using a different weapon." The explanation was brief. The count's army was divided into four branches, each with a commander called a general. The rest of its organization resembled the kingdom's. The four generals and the warrior who guarded the count were the five living weapons Molsen had raised. In other words, five monsters who had proved themselves through force. Malten, the mute warrior who wielded a hammer.

Benukt, the Giant who used his body as a weapon.

Jalvan, who handled two spears with almost acrobatic skill.

Banat, the Fairy of the Leaf Sword.

Lierbart, the bodyguard from a fallen noble family. "Any one of them could have joined a knight order. And every one is utterly loyal to the count." Just thinking of them made Edin's mouth go dry. Not one of them seemed human. Count Molsen was tenacious and devious. That was why no one knew the strength he kept hidden. "Could he be in league with Cultists?"

Krais didn't know either. Hence the question. Might the count bring in another group besides Aspen? "There's no need. He has his territorial army."

At Edin's answer, the easygoing look vanished from Krais's face. No lengthy explanation was needed. "He's built one hell of an army." While Border Guard held off Aspen. While the kingdom defended against the Demonic Realm and threats from the south. Count Molsen had been quiet. He hadn't caused any great trouble. Even while people called him the King of the Frontier, he hadn't done anything truly disruptive. This was the strength he had amassed in that time. More importantly, was that all? From that scheming bastard? He would have more tricks hidden away. A suspicion had become a certainty. Krais sprang to his feet so abruptly that his chair toppled backward with a thud. Watching him, Edin closed his eyes. The die had been cast, and he thought he even knew what number would come up. Krais rushed outside, and Edin heard him shout from deep in his belly.

"Audin! Captain Sinar! Battalion Commander Graham! We need to assemble reinforcements immediately!"

* * *

"Beating the constable down like that was a mistake." The man beside Encrid was the master of some guild. Frankly, he was a nuisance, but Encrid let him stay. He had approached out of something resembling goodwill. He had supplied various weapons and equipment, and even accompanied them on the road to the Nauril plains. He also mentioned that he had been fairly handy with a sword in his younger days. In other words, he was expressing his determination to fight in the king's army. "A mistake?"

Andrew, following behind, reacted as though the word grated on him. "I know he's skilled, but surely you understand? Nothing matters more than reputation." The guild master sounded defensive. Andrew snorted. The man frowned at that, then quickly smoothed his expression. He was facing a rising noble, the head of House Gardner. He had also heard that all five trainees behind him were remarkably skilled. Encrid didn't care what the guild master tagging along said. Why were people saying such things? He didn't have to think hard to understand. None of those who had properly witnessed his deeds had gone around talking about them. Aesia knew roughly what had happened, but she wasn't one to run her mouth. Would Rem talk, then? Chattering was his specialty, but he had no one to talk to here. Ragna and Jaxon went without saying. And would Esther step forward and say, "This is the man who saved your king"? As if. Of course, others had seen Encrid: those who had opposed him when he saved Krang. They had witnessed the swordsmanship that cut down a squire in an instant, but they had fled. Naturally, they had never had a chance to talk. Krang hadn't said much, and neither had Matthew or the trident-wielding guard. Still, both Matthew and the trident guard grew angry whenever someone spouted nonsense. It wasn't as though nothing had spread, of course. There were people like Squire Roford and the palace maids. Thanks to them, rumors did circulate: Encrid, the hero of Border Guard, was the genuine article. The earlier talk of him being a braggart or a fraud was gradually fading. But not every noble acknowledged him. So what? Again, Encrid didn't care in the slightest. No one gathered around him was particularly concerned about such things, either. If someone came to mock him, that would be different. Otherwise, why bother? Encrid was far more interested in other things. He had plenty to think about and plenty to do. All the way to the Nauril plains, he reflected on what had happened. ["I'm Ingis of the Scarlet Cloak Knight Order. I thought we might meet again."]

First, there was the way that knight order member, Ingis, had sought him out before leaving. ["I hope we can spar next time."]

Encrid hadn't done anything in particular, yet Ingis had taken an interest in him. ["But why do you want to fight the Captain?"]

Rem had asked from beside him, apparently intrigued. Usually Encrid was the one asking to fight. The reverse was rare. ["I have good instincts. I can tell you're an interesting man."]

Ingis had brushed back his hair as he spoke in earnest. Encrid had found him a very unusual person. ["I'll be off, then."]

He had left, saying there was plenty of trouble in the south. He had repeated a couple more times that they should meet again someday. ["With every day, you're becoming more of a man worth falling for."]

Luagarne had visited afterward. After crossing swords with him a few times, she had said,

["My skills aren't enough anymore."] Her ankle still hadn't recovered. Even a Frog couldn't regrow a foot in a day. Even so, the difference in their skill was plain. ["Still, I seem to have a few things left to teach you."]

For five days, Luagarne had refined his handling of the Righteous Sword Technique. Naturally, Encrid had applied himself fully to learning. 'Was this how I did it then?'

As he marched, Encrid moved the edge of his hand this way and that, reviewing his swordsmanship. It was routine. Everyone who saw him took it in stride. In truth, he had no other soldiers under his command, so the people watching were the usual ones: Ragna, Jaxon, Dunbachel, Rem, and Andrew. Apart from Andrew, they belonged to Border Guard's standing army, so it was only natural that they had no troops under them here. The journey to the Nauril plains was uneventful. No ambushes or raids. Scouts moved constantly, reporting the enemy's movements. Even then, Encrid simply kept reviewing everything he had refined over the past month. A month would ordinarily be considered a short time. This month had been different. ["You've improved a great deal."]\nHe had seen the look in Ragna's eyes change. ["Hah. Come at me. I'll take you half-seriously."]

He had drawn out Rem's serious side. ["This is utterly ridiculous."]

Aesia had shaken her head when she visited after recovering somewhat. How could he improve so much in a matter of days? ["It's getting hard to see any trace of your former self."]

Even Jaxon had said that. It was glowing praise. Encrid had nodded. For a month, Encrid had barely spoken. He had devoted himself entirely to swinging his sword and advancing. Was it because of the impetus the ferryman had given him? That wasn't all. The rhythm-breaking proto knight kept appearing in his mind. Time and again, Encrid had turned the question inward.

'What if we'd fought to the end?'

How would it have turned out? Repeated questioning brought an answer. No, he had known the answer already. Experience gained through todays repeated over and over. A perspective that had opened only now, after he had walked and walked to reach this point. Three times at most. That would have been enough. Then he could have overcome him. Which meant the man hadn't been a wall. It was a novel experience. It was only a month, one could say. Such a short span compared with all those repeated todays. Yet it had become a time of entirely different concentration and density. Encrid changed day by day. He was assimilating the experience accumulated over all those todays, but to everyone else, it was simply astonishing. ["It'll take a fair bit to get you killed now."]

That was Rem's conclusion. And so they reached the Nauril plains. The enemy lay beyond the fields, where green shoots grew taller with summer's arrival. Their troops stood in a line, so numerous that the sight alone was dizzying. "That's a shitload of them."

Rem spoke first. Ragna nodded, while Jaxon merely raised his head slightly, arms folded. Dunbachel swept her gaze from left to right.

"They must have three times our numbers." She was right. Their numbers alone were on a different scale. The commanders in Krang's army had thought the count might enlist Cultists or resort to some trick. They had misjudged him. The difference was in sheer military strength. Nearly ten thousand well-drilled territorial troops. Merely standing in formation, they already overwhelmed their opponents with their presence. The allied force prepared for the civil war numbered around three thousand. Inferior training, inferior numbers. A losing battle. The five living weapons took their places before that army. Two adjutants stood beside each, and their presence was extraordinary as well. The weather was clear, yet it felt as though storm clouds were gathering. Black clouds covering only the allied army. And then—

"I'm just going to say hello." There was a man who had come all this way thinking only of his sword. He wanted to test it. Instinctively, he also meant to turn the mood around. It was a feel for reading the atmosphere that cut through strategy and tactics, gained in the battles against Aspen. "Odd-Eyes."

Encrid called the horse, who now readily let him ride, and climbed onto its back. A horn blared.

BWOOOOOO!

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

Amid the rolling drums, a lone rider went forward. "Anyone. Come on out."

He shouted his challenge. While everyone stood dumbfounded, an adjutant of Jalvan, one of the five living weapons, stepped forward. "I'll bring back his head."

The man wanted a duel. All he had to do was oblige. The adjutant rode out, extending his long spear. His opponent dismounted. Why would the idiot get off his horse? NEIGH!

The adjutant's horse whinnied. "Hah!"

It picked up speed at his shout, and the ground began to thunder beneath its hooves. A heavy horse, with a spear-wielding warrior on its back. A lone man on foot looked destined to be smashed to pieces or skewered like meat. "Uh, uh..."

Someone in the royal army pointed ahead, mouth hanging open. Shouldn't he get out of the way? That was the question. But most simply stared. It hadn't all happened in an instant, yet what could they do? Things had reached this point. They could only watch. Anyone with eyes who saw the scene would conclude that the man was about to be speared to death. That was what those who didn't know Encrid thought. Only a few remained relaxed: those who knew the man who had stepped forward. THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!

The horse closed the distance in an instant. Its immense weight was apparent even from afar. Dust billowed. Grass was crushed under its hooves and flung behind it. Compared with their own rider's smooth advance, as though running over clouds, this was a violent charge. WHOOSH!

The spear sliced through the air. Jalvan's adjutant thrust, and horse and rider swept past his opponent. SPLASH!

Blood sprayed into the air like paint poured across a canvas. The horse had passed, but the rider had left half his body behind. The spearman's upper half rose into the air as though someone had tugged it up on a string, then fell to the ground. Blood and entrails stained the grass and earth. The first casualty. Encrid murmured, not caring whether anyone heard.

"Next."