Chapter 179 - Enk-Enk-Enkrid
The nobles of the Kingdom of Naurillia were accustomed to naming their units after themselves.
Thus, Viscount Ventra's forces arrived before the pioneer village.
A portion of the cavalry, having received the urgent dispatch, had galloped ahead. This is what they saw.
"Weren't you under attack?" the cavalry captain asked. He had come to scout the situation himself.
What are they doing? Why are they burying carcasses in the ground?
The black blood of monsters and beasts, contrary to its appearance, could sometimes fertilize the land. Even the poison on a ghoul's claws would be neutralized and disappear if buried in the earth. For that reason, the inhabitants of the pioneer village were burying the monster carcasses with all their might.
The wilderness ground was becoming uneven and bumpy. Most of the villagers were drenched in sweat, swinging shovels and pickaxes. Soldiers and villagers alike moved as one.
"Yes, it was an urgent dispatch," his adjutant said.
It was more than just urgent.
Large colony, gnoll pack, immediate support requested.
That was all it said. It was sent in such a rush that not even a rough estimate of the enemy's numbers was included. And that was indeed the case. Deutsch had been in a hurry when he sent the dispatch, and in his haste, he had neglected to write the number of monsters. It was only written in a way that suggested a large colony of at least several hundred, and on top of that, there was the mention of a cultist. It was an urgent report sufficient to mobilize those who sensed the danger.
"To my eyes, it looks like they're practicing some kind of monster slash-and-burn farming," the cavalry captain said.
There truly seemed to be no threat whatsoever. If you ignored the monster corpses, it was quite a pastoral scene. In fact, the cleanup was already nearing completion, so the number of monsters didn't even seem that large.
"Hooooo, thud thud, he cut down five hundred alone." "We shall name a fortress wall." "Enk-Enk-Enkrid."
They were even singing a ridiculous work song to a nonsensical tune.
"Go find out what happened."
They had kicked up dust rushing all the way here, only to find this. At the captain's command, a subordinate galloped off.
Clip-clop! Clip-clop!
The subordinate rode out, grasped the situation, and returned to report.
"What? He sliced up five hundred gnolls by himself?"
The villagers had been honest.
"What, is he some legendary free knight? Or did they say the Mercenary King came by?"
"No, they say he's a platoon leader from the Border Guard."
A mere platoon leader had slaughtered five hundred gnolls alone. Of course, they said it wasn't done in a single day. They also said he killed a cultist. No, that the cultist just died. He supposedly tricked the sinister opponent and struck from behind, and the guy just clutched his heart and croaked?
Are cultists some common bandits you find wandering in the back hills? Are they such timid fools?
'What a joke.'
The captain scoffed. As if any mere platoon leader could do such a thing.
"Is that so? Then let's see the face of that bastard."
As the captain spoke and they entered the village, the elder stepped forward to speak.
"He has already left."
"Already?"
"He said his mission was just to deal with the colony."
And with that, he had simply departed. Who ever heard of such a no-nonsense fellow?
The cavalry captain scoffed a second time.
Looking at the situation, the only witnesses were mercenaries and villagers. While it would be difficult for all of them to be lying in unison, it was equally difficult to believe that everything they said was true.
'When you're pushed to the edge of a cliff, you're bound to exaggerate.'
The captain knew this principle well. A person on a cliff's edge, even with a five-step buffer, is gripped by the fear that they will fall at any moment. These people must be the same.
Five hundred? At most, it was probably fifty. A hundred, tops? If a man who came from a mercenary background couldn't handle a monster colony of that small size, it would be an admission of his own incompetence.
'They must have exaggerated,' the captain judged. He had no intention of digging up the buried corpses to check.
"Forget it."
In any case, as long as the village was safe, that was all that mattered. He could hear some nonsense about an "Enkrid Wall" here and there, but it wasn't his place to comment on it.
'Whether it was fifty or five.'
It was still a fact that this platoon leader had saved the village. However, the way he left after allowing his reputation to be inflated like this didn't sit right with him at all.
'If I ever see him.'
I'll be sure to knock him down a peg. Cutting his boasting tongue in half might be nice, too.
Thinking this, the captain turned his horse around.
"You could have stayed longer."
At the news of their departure, the village elder quickly expressed his disappointment. It was the morning two days after the festival-like night. As Enkrid washed up, drenched in sweat, a few of the village women came to watch him.
"His body is so nice." "He's handsome." "He's a good fighter." "He has a good personality." "He's so robust, I'm sure what's down below is…"
The last comment seemed to cross a line, but it was spoken out of a mix of envy, respect, and near-worship. It wasn't a bad feeling. He simply enjoyed it in moderation.
When he announced he was leaving, Deutsch Pullman had suddenly shown up and thrusted his glaive at him.
"Could you give me a match?"
Though he presented the weapon abruptly, his tone held respect, and his attitude showed reverence. It was a request—no, a plea—made with an upright and proper posture.
Most of all.
'Those eyes.'
Enkrid liked eyes like that. Eyes that blazed and burned with purpose.
"Alright."
It was a simple spar.
Clang.
He deflected the glaive twice—once vertically, once horizontally—then closed the distance and slammed his left fist into the spot over Deutsch's lungs.
With a heavy thud, Deutsch was struck in the abdomen. He let out a strangled "Gahk-" and collapsed to the ground.
Hkk, Haaah, Hooo.
After finally catching his breath, Deutsch managed to speak.
"What kind of strength…"
He then stood up and bowed his head anew.
"I thank you."
Enkrid gave a slight nod, treating it as nothing special. There was no reason to linger, so they prepared to move immediately.
"I'm going with you."
Finn insisted on following, even though she had been told to stay and recover in the village.
"I'm a Ranger."
That statement held a great deal of meaning. As a member of a group whose motto was "Rangers go first."
"I hate being left behind."
It wasn't mere stubbornness. Her injury wasn't a fatal one with her intestines spilling out, and the treatment she received had been excellent. It had been Krais's handiwork; he was a multitalented friend, to be sure. Useful for everything except fighting. Especially when it came to using his head.
Besides, the journey ahead was unlikely to be dangerous. At most, they might encounter...
'A few monsters and beasts.'
Normally, when a colony forms, most of the surrounding monsters get wiped out. It was a natural phenomenon. The colony was a gathering of nearby monsters, and now that it had been exterminated, they would be hard-pressed to find another large group of them.
'It should be fine.'
"Treasure. Treasure." Krais chanted in a cheerful rhythm. According to him, the place indicated by the treasure map was only a day's journey away.
"So, this is no big deal. In the old days, you'd have to disarm traps and it would be complicated, but now, well, if you've read Kristlown's Guide to Dungeon Delving, it's a piece of cake, you see."
Confidence shone in his eyes. And in truth, it really wasn't a big deal.
Afterward, they packed some preserved food and a few bottles of apple wine and set off.
"Come again, you must," the elder said, bowing deeply from behind. It wasn't just the elder; all the villagers came out to bow their heads.
Enkrid gave a slight nod in return and said, "If I get the chance."
It was a gruff farewell, but its sincerity shone through precisely because it was his true feeling.
The plan was simple: follow the path, pick up some treasure on the way, and then turn back.
"Let's go find some treasure. Treasure!" Krais chattered on, full of excitement.
Enkrid readily nodded his assent.
"I'll go with you that far," Luagarne said, not leaving right away. Whether she simply had no need to return immediately or had some lingering attachments, Enkrid didn't bother to ask.
Instead.
"A sparring match?"
He just treated her as he always did. She had said something about falling for him, but that was something to be seen with time. To Enkrid, what he could learn from her right now was more important than any distant day in the future.
In terms of simple martial power—that is, if his intent was to kill—Enkrid was confident he could surpass Luagarne, but her experience and skill were genuine. His combat strength was more manageable than he had initially thought. Just as you can't see the full landscape until you reach the peak, what you see and feel changes once you've arrived. And so, he could now see. Enkrid's perspective had opened up. You can only see what you know, and now, he could see a path to defeating Luagarne.
'Are all Frogs this strong?'
Probably not. As she had mentioned several times, she was a scholar.
"That is not a bad proposal. I've gotten a bit rusty myself. I should spend some time training again."
It seemed she too had learned something from the fight with the cultist.
They walked along, the sharp clack-clack of their wooden swords echoing as they sparred. They walked while reflecting on what they had gained, what they had learned, and what they had mastered.
"You are truly a strange human," Luagarne said, right after a bout of strategy with their wooden swords had ended. "No amount of talent should make this possible."
"Is that so?" Enkrid replied, brushing it off.
His dream was to be a knight, and he still had many mountains to climb and a long road to walk. He couldn't be satisfied with just a single step forward. No, it was impossible. No matter how large that step was, it couldn't reach his faded and torn dream. And even if he did reach it, would he be satisfied? He didn't know. Would everything end once he became a knight? No. The dream remained, but the reasons for wanting to achieve it had piled up in his heart as he wandered the continent. Some remained as dregs, others as regrets.
"The strangest thing is your attitude right now," Luagarne continued, but Enkrid was unchanging.
He learns and masters. That is what quenches the thirst within him. For now, he would simply relieve that thirst and follow the signposts ahead.
"Again?"
He remained the same.
They sweated through another sparring session, then quenched their thirst with a mixture of water and apple wine. They walked along a road where no stream appeared. Finn was in the lead, with Krais chattering away beside her.
"According to the map, the terrain should be right around here. What do you think, Finn?"
"Looks right to me."
Krais's talent, it seemed, truly shone when his life and his krona were on the line. He found the way by looking at just a small portion of the map, though Finn helped from the side.
'Isn't that more amazing?'
Bug-Eyes, and Rem, and Ragna and Audin, Jaxen.
'Hmm.'
The Madmen Squad. They were a bunch that fit the name perfectly. So, compared to them, wasn't he on the normal side? Sparing no effort because of a grand dream should be within the bounds of acceptability.
Of course, that was only Enkrid's opinion.
Did he think Luagarne was the only one surprised to see him fight the gnolls?
Esther was shocked, too.
'Crazy human.'
She had seen him change overnight several times before, but this was something different. Slicing through hundreds of monsters without a single chant? Was he wielding some kind of magic weapon? Did he pick up a demon sword somewhere? No. His sword and armor were the same as always. Only the man himself had changed. Wasn't this the martial power of a quasi-knight? She didn't know about his raw power, but the result was the same.
Krais was also surprised. But he didn't question it.
'Because he's the commander.'
He's always been a crazy person, a man obsessed with the sword. He might just be capable of something like that. It's useless to waste mental energy pondering the incomprehensible. Krais didn't waste his efforts on useless things and simply accepted it.
Among them, the most surprised was Finn.
'How is that possible?'
When she first saw him, he hadn't seemed this strong. She had been surprised then, too—surprised to see him fight among werewolves, and surprised to see him kill a magician. But back then, it had felt like something within the realm of comprehension.
'But now.'
He seemed to be at the very limit of humanity, or perhaps had one foot over it. And above all, his regenerative ability.
'It's enough to put a Frog to shame.'
He would fight as if he were about to die, and then the next day, he would be revived and fight again. And there wasn't a priest next to him pouring out holy power, so how was it possible? Finn pondered how he did it but soon gave up.
In reality, most who observed Enkrid eventually gave up on trying to understand him. It couldn't be helped.
"Such a strange fellow, anyway," Luagarne's murmur spoke for them all.
"Is that so?" Enkrid remained as stoic as ever.
No monsters or beasts appeared on their short journey. After walking diligently, they arrived at a place behind a rocky mountain. It had taken a full day because they took a roundabout path, but it was a journey that could have been made in half a day if they had hurried. They had sparred, eaten, and rested sufficiently along the way. It wasn't an urgent matter. As Krais had said, it was just a matter of picking up some treasure on the way.
Behind the rocky mountain was a land of scattered stones, short grass, and a few trees poking their heads out here and there. It wasn't quite a plain, not quite a wasteland, and not quite a field of rocks.
"Commander, do you know something?" Krais suddenly spoke up in the midst of the scene.
"What is it?"