Encrid had offered to become Krang's escort, but it wasn't something that needed to be done immediately.
"We'll stay here for about ten days, or maybe just a week if it's short."
Marcus said .
"Wouldn't it be dangerous to stay here any longer?"
Krais interjected, but Marcus shook his head.
"Don't you think it's too much of an adventure just to come meet one person?"
Krais quickly understood what Marcus was implying, as did Encrid.
They had come to see him, but that wasn't their only purpose. If coming to the city of Border Guard itself was an adventure, there must be other practical reasons behind it.
It made sense.
Count Molsen was a big figure with influence that reached the noble society in the Capital.
Evading the eyes and ears of someone like that wasn't easy.
Besides, the Queen still remained at the center.
It was unclear if she had no interest in an heir, or if she had other plans in mind.
And in this situation, there were those trying to usurp the Queen's throne.
Would it be easy? Or difficult?
They had started with no foundation, no position, no advantages.
The only thing they had was the royal bloodline of a bastard prince.
'Well, there's also that unique charm, isn't there?'
Krais thought to himself.
It was only the second time he had ever seen a person who radiated such a presence.
Of course, the first was Encrid.
'Our Captain is quite the peculiar one.'
Krais mused.
In Krais' view, Krang was unique in a different way.
He was someone who absorbed those around him, using them as stepping stones to move forward. He resembled a massive ship, carrying and sheltering those aboard as he sailed forward.
Encrid, on the other hand, was more like a banner than a ship.
He stood alone, moving forward, sometimes becoming a beacon for others, a goal to aim for, or even a shield to block the way ahead.
'And he's highly skilled too.'
At any rate, that ship — no, Krang — was fighting a difficult battle.
The fact that he was not only enduring but also achieving something in such a fight proved something significant.
It demonstrated the formidable capabilities of both the individual and those around him.
"So, are we leaving or not?"
Rem asked, now filled with eagerness after the cold had passed.
Rem hadn't understood any of the conversation going back and forth. He simply picked his nose and pressed the matter.
"Wait."
Encrid said, knowing how to handle the beast. He showed Rem the palm of his hand.
"Wait a little longer."
His tone was as if speaking to a puppy.
"....."
Rem silently hefted his axe. Naturally, the axe moved faster than his words, continuing its swing. Half of it was intentional teasing.
With the remaining time, they sparred, trained, and honed their skills repeatedly.
* * *
It is easier to dig deeper when digging one hole rather than multiple.
Choose just one and dig.
This is what they tell you when you first pick up a weapon, whether it's a sword or an axe.
Direct, heavy, deceptive, fast, and smooth.
Which of these will you dig into?
Ask ten skilled swordsmen and all ten will give you the same answer.
If you dig multiple wells, no water will come from any of them, and eventually, you will die of thirst.
Of course, you still need to dig a well where water is likely to come out. In other words, you need to choose the right path for yourself. However, that's a detailed and somewhat different discussion, so let's set that aside for now and focus on the conclusion.
"Dig one well."
Even if you gather a hundred people and ask, the answer will be similar.
But Encrid didn't do that.
He dug into many wells.
The Heart of the Beast, Sensory Techniques, The Isolation Technique, Focus Point.
He dabbled in various forms of swordsmanship.
A hundred people would say this was the wrong path.
Yet, not a single member of the Madmen Platoon would criticize him for it.
They wouldn't question it.
While it might appear as truth or a principle when ten or even a hundred people say it, when a thousand or ten thousand are gathered, a few might provide slightly different answers.
"Why does it have to be that way?"
They would ask.
Or perhaps:
"Why bother? Just follow where your hands take you."
And when they say such things, they hear:
"Are all geniuses like you?"
Most of them were treated as madmen or objects of envy.
It was understandable.
Even though they hadn't taken the usual path, they advanced alone. They didn't run at the same speed as others.
Ordinary people who watched such individuals had to wrestle with frustration and despair.
Talent was a form of discrimination.
The world is not fair.
The Goddess of luck does not love everyone.
Everyone knows this.
Encrid also often heard similar advice.
"Dig just one well."
Whether it was focusing on the , Valen Dual Sword Technique, or something else.
"How about concentrating on the fast sword? At the very least, you'd improve more than you are now."
He often heard suggestions to master the quick strike sword, where everything was staked on the first blow.
Those who said such things appreciated Encrid's perseverance.
But Encrid didn't do that.
He didn't dig just one well.
To be precise, he couldn't.
If he had done so, he wouldn't have survived.
Especially after that curse-like blessing, he naturally became adept at various things.
Did he never think about the advice to dig one well during that process?
He did. But he ignored it.
Not everyone's advice could be correct. Encrid acted according to his instincts.
Above all, it was the joy that guided him.
'This is fun too.'
And that was fun as well.
The repetition of the 'today' turned things that could be painful into pure joy.
Once he began enjoying it, the need to question whether it was one well or many wells disappeared.
On top of the techniques taught by the Madmen Platoon, he built his swordsmanship. The entire process was enjoyable—over and over again.
Every day was new.
Waking up every morning felt like receiving a gift.
Growth, change, and progress completely immersed him in joy.
This was only possible because Encrid wasn't normal.
Even if it meant crawling, he moved forward. Could recognizing that be enjoyable?
No, not everyone could feel that way.
It was something only Encrid could do.
Because he sincerely appreciated the fact that he wasn't allowed to become complacent, every day, every moment, felt new and enjoyable.
All the enthusiasm, the curse-like blessing, and the strange fate that remained after a chance encounter with the Madmen Platoon had come together, allowing Encrid to draw water from every well.
"Swordsmanship, weapons, and martial arts talent, if I had to divide them, I'd split them into two."
This was something a city instructor had said. He was a man with his own principles and firm standards.
"One is here."
As he spoke, he pointed to his forehead with his index finger.
"It's the talent of using the sword with your mind. Observing, judging, thinking, and contemplating. The second is the talent of the body. Whether your body follows what your mind thinks. Your body's talent is lacking. Closing your eyes when the sword comes flying at you? No matter how much you focus, if it's not easy, what does that tell you? It means your body isn't following your thoughts."
So, focus on one thing. If you're going to use a sword, strike first.
This was the same person who had told him to focus on the mercenary-style fast sword.
But no one in the Madmen Platoon said things like that.
They were geniuses who broke the rules of common sense. Even Sinar was regarded as a rare presence within the Fairy race.
More importantly, even they saw that the techniques Encrid had accumulated were interconnected.
There was no need to be hung up on digging just one well.
"That was pretty good."
Rem said, having just witnessed it himself.
The Isolation Technique flowed into Audin's Martial Arts, blending with the sword technique.
Inside the Trapping Sword based on the Correct Sword Technique, the Middle Sword Technique of Ragna was also mixed in.
Just a moment ago, Encrid had swung the silver longsword in his right hand downward while placing his left hand on Ember and advancing his left foot half a step forward.
Ember was a fast and straight thrust.
With such momentum, Rem had to swing his axe.
Deflect and divert.
In an instant, his thoughts flowed, and he made his conclusion.
But Ember didn't fly.
Even the sword falling from above lacked weight.
Just when Rem thought, 'What kind of trick is this?' Encrid used his two main sword techniques as bait to close the distance.
He then initiated a close-quarters battle.
It was a technique that incorporated the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.
Moreover, both sword strikes were infused with the intensity of looking like the 'real deal'.
This was thanks to the insight gained from learning The Crushing Sword.
"That's insane!"
Rem shouted excitedly in the moment.
Before he knew it, Encrid had grabbed Rem's arm and twisted it backward.
In a situation where his arm felt like it might snap, Rem pushed off the ground, leaping into the air, and spun his body.
It was an acrobatic move, almost like a stunt.
Since his arm was being twisted, he rotated his body in the same direction.
As he did, he struck Encrid's forearm with the edge of his hand, pushing him away.
Encrid, forced backward, seemed to have calculated his movements. He caught the longsword he had thrown upward just moments before.
He gripped it and struck downward—this was The Crushing Sword, enhanced with the Middle Sword Technique's downward slash.
Rem, thrilled by such an exhilarating move, grew more excited.
As soon as he landed from his mid-air spin, he pushed off the ground with immense leg strength. His body blurred, leaving afterimages.
It appeared as though his body had split into two.
There was a stationary Rem and a retreating Rem.
Encrid's sword slashed through the stationary Rem.
The retreating Rem bent backward and then lunged forward.
Each movement was fast, fierce, and rough.
As he straightened and then hunched forward, he hurled both of the axes in his hands.
'Madman.'
Encrid thought in awe.
Rem's move was an improvised one.
Whoosh!
With a burst of explosive noise, both axes flew like spinning discs.
Encrid tilted his sword diagonally.
With that, he perfectly blocked the path of the flying axes.
Clang!
As the axes collided with his sword, the impact shook his entire body.
It was due to the immense force behind the throw.
The axes, struck by the sword, spun upward. Tracing strange arcs in the air, the two axes plunged into the ground with a heavy thud.
With the weight concentrated on the blades, there was no chance they would fall handle-first.
Encrid stood, his knees half-bent, gripping the longsword with both hands, holding it diagonally.
"Let's stop here."
Rem said, stopping after seeing that Encrid had blocked the axes.
If they continued any further, something was bound to break, or at the very least, one of them would be seriously injured.
After all of this, Rem's comment was,
"That was pretty good."
Catching his breath, Encrid asked,
"That was an improvised throw, wasn't it?"
"You know it, so why ask?"
Rem replied with a mischievous grin.
Encrid's technique of throwing the sword had come after days of deliberation.
But Rem's wasn't like that.
He improvised the move based on observing his opponent.
Even so, its execution was exceptional.
"And what would you have done next?"
Encrid asked.
"Sling, charge, then martial arts."
He was referring to what he would've done after throwing the axes. It was a deadly technique not suitable for a sparring match.
He would have slung stones, charged forward, and then followed up with punches and kicks.
Rem's martial arts skills were also top-notch.
What made it even more terrifying was the reckless charge he would launch while his opponent was busy dodging or blocking the stones.
He would exploit the moment when his opponent's breathing became disjointed, their movements disrupted by the need to evade the stones.
"Impressive."
Encrid said.
Encrid nodded, picturing Rem's movements in his head.
"Not bad."
He said.
Rem also nodded, pleased with Encrid's progress.
Of course, he hadn't learned everything all at once. It was indeed a peculiar talent.
At some point, Encrid would suddenly master something, but from the perspective of those watching him, his growth appeared slow and steady.
Yet, he never hesitated, never stopped, and had no prejudices.
He purely admired and responded to his opponent's techniques, reflecting on them.
How admirable that attitude was.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
Rem asked.
"What's there to even say?"
Encrid replied.
Aside from Rem, he occasionally sparred with Ragna, swinging his sword.
And he continued his training with Audin as well.
In the midst of all this—
"Take me with you!"
Without even knowing what the mission was, Dunbachel had stepped forward.
She wanted to join the escort mission.
Encrid nodded in agreement.
It was certain that assassins or something else would surely emerge.
Would this be dangerous?
Was the path ahead full of thorns?
Was this a task laden with risk?
Most likely.
And yet, even knowing this, Encrid felt a sense of excitement.
"Why do you look so thrilled?"
Big Eyes asked, who had a sharp sense of things.
Each time, Encrid answered honestly.
"Who do you think is going to come after us?"
In Krais's mind, a few assassin groups he knew of quickly flashed by.
Having started his life in the back alleys, he knew quite a lot.
Actually, he knew even more now.
Running Gilpin's Guild like an information network had brought him considerable knowledge.
"Troublesome people?"
At Krais's words, Encrid broke into a wide smile, so bright it reminded Krais of spring sunlight, causing him to frown.
"Is this something to smile about?"
"And why wouldn't it be?"
Thump thump.
Rem, who had been watching, tapped Krais on the head.
"If you start to understand what's going on in his head, you'll end up just as crazy."
Encrid felt a bit annoyed by that statement.
The craziest person was calling him crazy.
Isn't there a saying about this? Like how a ghoul might call a dog-faced man ugly?
'No, that's not right.'
That's a phrase used when similar people are tearing each other down.
A more fitting phrase would be:
'A dog covered in filth chastising a dog covered in dust. Yeah, that's better.'
"Fine. Come on then, Rem. I accept your challenge to a duel."
"...Where did I ever challenge you to a duel?"
Rem asked, confused.
"In everything you said."
"That just sounded like picking a fight."
In Krais's eyes, the two were quite similar.
Anyway, as they dealt with various matters, five days quickly passed.
"The task finished sooner than I expected."
Marcus had officially made the request. The Royal Family was commissioning them for an escort mission. Publicly, it was to escort a member of a noble family's trading company. Privately, it was to protect a bastard prince of the Royal Family. The time frame was separate, and they were to be the target of the request.
The route would take them from the Border Guard to the Capital of the Kingdom.
With that settled, they planned to depart in two days, and as the evening came after a day of preparation, they had just decided who would stay and who would go on the mission.
"…Damn it. Who else would sneak in like a wild cat? Sitting there as if nothing happened?"
Encrid had returned after gathering useful supplies and buying things like seasoned jerky.
He also managed to get some brandy in one of his flasks—there might come a moment when a few sips of alcohol would be desperately needed.
As he entered the tent, Rem spoke, noticing the person sitting inside.
"Sneak in? You probably just didn't notice because you're so dull."
Anyway, the man was exceptionally good at hiding his presence.
He sat there without lighting the lamp, blending in with the surroundings, as still as a piece of furniture.
"You're back?"
Encrid said as he stepped into the tent.
Jaxon, who had returned, nodded.
"Yes, I'm back. But it seems I'll have to leave again soon."
"Where to?"
"I have business in the Capital."
"...Are you talking about Naurillia, where the Royal Palace is?"
Encrid asked.
Jaxon, sitting in the chair, blinked once before responding.
"Obviously."
Was it a coincidence, or just luck?
"That's exactly where we're headed."
Jaxon blinked again, surprised.
Headed where?
"Deadweight, deadweight. You're taking him with us?"
Rem interrupted from the side, but Jaxon paid him no attention.
"You're going to the Capital?"
"Yeah."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
Jaxon found it quite convenient.
He had been looking for an excuse to get to the Capital, specifically the Royal Palace, as soon as possible.
And leaving tomorrow? It couldn't have worked out better.