Krang thought it was a unique experience.
'Is this what it feels like to be escorted by Knights?'
He felt a peace here that he had never experienced while wandering the continent before.
This was true even though there had been more assassination attempts than ever before.
The attacks by those disguised as merchants were foiled before they even began, but that wasn't the end of it.
After that, they entered the city of Midpool.
"Thank you. Thank you so much!"
The son of the landowner wept with joy.
Despite the pain in his shattered ankle, he acted as if he would kiss the ground.
Of course, he didn't actually press his head to the dirt-stained ground. But he was that joyful.
Having narrowly escaped death, and after following along in a state of tension, it was a natural reaction.
"Even if that man had been an assassin, no one would have been harmed."
One of Krang's escorts remarked as he watched.
"I think so too."
Krang nodded, whispering.
Had they harmed or ignored the landowner's son, the Assassination Guild would have framed them for murder.
Therefore, the landowner's son likely had nothing to do with the assassins.
Nevertheless, no one let their guard down.
That was the gist of what Krang's escort was saying.
The entire journey, the landowner's son remained at the center of the group.
He was in a position where, even if he tried something, there was nothing he could do.
Meanwhile, Krang kept a clear distance, and Encrid treated him, occasionally searching through his belongings.
Encrid's touch was extremely thorough, yet the person being searched barely noticed it.
What could someone think when their ankle was nearly severed, and they were in such pain they thought they might die?
It would be strange for them to endure the pain without reaction.
Ordinary people cannot maintain composure when suffering such injuries.
If a person is weak-willed, they would be in tears and begging for their life, and no one could blame them for it.
Even if they were brave enough to endure, it would be nearly impossible for someone experiencing such a thing for the first time to remain calm.
Encrid's group kept a close watch over him, and eventually, they entered Midpool.
The city's distinguishing feature was its peculiar walls, made of stones of various colors, the result of repeated modifications and repairs.
In Naurillia, most cities considered it a virtue to mimic the Capital's walls, so this was perhaps to be expected.
The Capital's walls were indeed renowned for their grandeur.
In this continent, where monsters and wild beasts roamed freely, even bandits couldn't travel in small numbers.
Thus, there were no small villages or homesteads.
Humans had to construct large cities to survive. That was how humanity progressed.
As a result, construction technology developed rapidly, and the signs of this advanced technology were evident in Midpool.
Even now, new walls were being erected, with stones laid and stacked in front of an older wall.
"Thank you so much!"
Since this was a city based on surrounding farmland, the Lord was always a landowner by tradition.
At the same time, the Lord ruling this region was the one who owned the most land in the kingdom and was called the Marquis of Fertile Land.
There was some back-and-forth as the landowner under the Marquis expressed his gratitude and debated whether to invite them inside.
Then.
"What if we were the ones who lured your son into a trap and staged this whole performance? Why would you invite us in?"
With one remark from Encrid, the landowner backed off.
People of his stature are not easily deceived.
With that comment, he realized these people were not ones to accept his hospitality.
Perhaps he had subconsciously agreed with Encrid's words.
"I will repay this debt another day."
The landowner backed off.
He would now pursue the group that targeted his son or anyone related to them.
If necessary, he would even use the Marquis' power.
This was not something Encrid needed to concern himself with.
Afterward, the group booked an inn, where food laced with poison was served.
"Poison."
Jaxon detected it immediately, thwarting yet another assassination attempt.
Later, as they walked through an alley toward another restaurant, someone threw a dagger.
Naturally, the dagger was poisoned, but Encrid caught it with his gloved hand and threw it back, at twice the speed it had come.
"Gurk."
A death rattle echoed from within the alley.
"How does someone fail to dodge their own dagger?"
Rem grumbled. He seemed quite annoyed by the constant attacks from all directions.
Whenever the streets grew quiet, someone would attack again.
Rem casually assembled his collapsible spear, slung it over his shoulder, and rested his arm on it.
The posture looked sloppy, but in reality, it was anything but.
In fact, there was even a poisoned dart aimed at Rem, but without changing his stance, he merely tilted his waist sideways and deflected the dart with the spear's handle.
The assassin, like a rat, kept throwing and hiding.
Rem was too lazy to chase them down.
It was understandable.
The assassin continued to harass them with determination.
Every time they started to forget, another poisoned dagger would fly toward them. Not just daggers, but bolts and darts as well.
And they weren't just targeting Krang. They aimed at the entire group, but to no avail.
It was pointless.
Sometimes, random attackers would jump out, but they were dealt with swiftly.
They weren't skilled assassins, just a group of vagrants.
The fact that there were no villages meant people had to live together in cities.
The problem of vagrant gangs was common in all major cities.
Some of these vagrants attacked. Naturally, they were also easily dealt with.
Thud, crack, smack.
Ragna stepped forward and sent the vagrants packing with his fists and feet.
"He's a monster!"
One of the vagrants shouted as he ran off, but none of the group pursued him.
"They probably paid a few Krona to hire them. The poison was likely done the same way."
Jaxon mentioned that the inn's waitress had put the poison in the food, but Encrid didn't question her. Jaxon advised that there was no need.
"This is a common tactic. They claim it's not poison but some other drug and have someone else administer it."
Krang listened closely to Jaxon's explanation. It was a method he hadn't heard of before. He recalled nearly dying from a potent poison once.
At the time, he had no idea when he had been poisoned.
There had been no suspicious people. Could it have been for this reason? It seemed likely.
"They'll claim one of us has a fiance or a family member being secretly pursued and use that as an excuse. People will nod along, thinking nothing of it. Since we didn't fall for it, they tricked someone else—someone who wouldn't be suspected. They'd say something like, 'We're worried about exhaustion during the journey, so sprinkle this good medicine, but do it secretly. We can't let them know they're being followed.' That's probably how it went."
It was a petty trick, but it worked well.
What if the waitress or innkeeper had stolen some of the powder and used it themselves?
Would the Assassination Guild even care about that?
Instead of a poison that takes effect immediately after consumption, they would likely use a poison that causes convulsions after about a day.
Fortunately, the innkeeper and the waitress had a conscience.
They didn't steal any of the powder but sprinkled all of it onto the food.
The waitress who served the meal kept glancing at the group, and now it was clear why.
Of course, it could also be that the appearance of Encrid and his group caught her attention.
Inside the inn, keeping their hoods on would have attracted more attention, so they confidently showed their faces.
Naturally, this drew the eyes of those around them.
Their attitude of not caring about being watched by potential pursuers also ruffled the pride of a few assassins.
As a result:
"Above."
Jaxon gave a warning.
In a dimly lit area, specifically on their way to another restaurant since dining at the inn was no longer an option, an assassin descended from above.
By the time the number of thrown daggers reached a point where they could lay out a stall, Rem, Encrid, and Ragna moved simultaneously.
Their weapons slashed through the air above their heads.
The body of the Fairy assassin who attacked from above was split into six pieces.
Blood sprayed like rain and spilled onto the ground.
Entrails, flesh, severed arms, and legs fell onto the alley floor with a series of thuds.
If this had happened in the middle of a busy street, the guards would have arrived immediately, and the scene would have been a disaster.
"Guh."
That was the assassin's dying gasp.
The assassin's skin was so pale it reflected the moonlight as his face was smashed into the filthy ground.
After that, there were several more ambushes.
However,
"They're all falling before they even begin."
That's what one of the escorts said.
Krang saw it the same way.
As if that wasn't enough.
"For a moment."
When Jaxon briefly stepped away, the attacks significantly decreased.
During this time, Encrid found a restaurant.
"They say the roast chicken here is their specialty."
"Hm?"
Krang tilted his head. Was this really the time to be looking for delicious food?
"Don't like chicken?"
Encrid asked.
Of course not.
It had just been a long time since he'd had a proper meal.
After dealing with so many poisoned meals, Krang had been eating purely to survive, not for the taste.
With that thought, Krang entered the restaurant.
"Be careful."
Said one of the escorts, but he didn't stop his master. From his point of view, it seemed safe enough to eat something.
So, they did.
Krang ate so much that he had to loosen his belt for the first time in a while.
The restaurant only served roast chicken, but the cooking method was superb.
A whole chicken was skewered on a long spit and roasted over a wood fire. The chickens were slowly rotated on skewers around the fire for at least half a day, making it a time-consuming dish.
"This recipe has been passed down since my grandfather's time. It's my pride."
The cook and owner of the restaurant said, showing his pride.
And rightly so—the roasted chicken melted in your mouth.
Over the salt, pepper, and other spices, a thin layer of seasoning was brushed, which, when combined with the crispy skin, made it better than the meals served by most Lords.
When Krang stabbed the meat with his fork, the tender, yet firm, meat tore away easily.
He kept stuffing it into his mouth.
"How long has it been since you ate? You're eating well."
The owner said as he brought out a juice he had developed from some kind of fruit.
It, too, was excellent. The sweet and sour flavors combined to refresh Krang's greasy palate.
When a city's population is densely packed, the thing that tends to develop the most is cooking.
A city is essentially a hub for surrounding logistics, meaning there are always plenty of ingredients available.
In cities like Midpool, where agriculture is developed, raising livestock is easy.
The fact that this city's walls were continuously being expanded and the land was growing wider was likely for the same reason.
Though they had outposts outside the walls and stationed soldiers to guard the surrounding facilities, livestock couldn't be raised that way.
Not everyone could be a combatant like the Shepherds of the Wilderness, who hunted monsters and beasts.
Naturally, cows, horses, chickens, and sheep were raised within the walls.
Among the vagrants, some lived with a few livestock as well.
In winter, livestock helped to maintain body heat.
For this reason, chickens were in good supply within the city.
They were widely raised.
It was only natural to raise livestock with surplus grain if the city was primarily focused on agriculture and if the leadership was properly managing it.
That's likely why a restaurant like this existed.
"Let's capture this chef."
Rem remarked, praising the meal. The cook, who had been serving dishes with roasted potatoes, was startled.
"What? This restaurant is funded by the landowner, so don't even think about doing anything foolish."
In this city, the highest authority was the landowner.
Encrid reassured him that it was just a joke and calmed him down.
At some point, Jaxon had returned and was now gnawing on a chicken leg.
"Creeping around like a stray cat, huh?"
"You're just slow."
The two were always bickering.
Outside, a wild horse, despite being a horse, was chewing on a chicken.
"That's not a beast, is it?"
A freckle-faced boy who worked at the restaurant asked. He seemed frightened.
"It doesn't bite."
Encrid said, trying to reassure him, but naturally, the boy didn't dare go near the wild horse with the odd eyes.
Who would want to approach a horse crunching through chicken bones?
"Let's have a drink."
Rem suggested.
"Let's drink and take some with us."
Encrid agreed.
The group looked completely disorganized, each scattered at different tables with no semblance of discipline.
On the surface, it seemed that way. But not a single person was letting their guard down.
Krang felt a sense of calm as he saw, heard, and experienced all of this.
Their relaxed demeanor put him at ease.
So, he tore into the chicken and had a drink of the cherry wine.
It had a unique flavor.
Had he not been with them, he might have suspected the wine was poisoned.
But there was no poison.
"Can I buy a few bottles of this?"
Encrid asked the owner, purchasing several bottles of wine. Once their bellies were full, the group returned to the inn.
"Sleep well."
After exchanging brief goodnights, they washed up, used thin brushes to clean their teeth and dislodged the meat stuck between them, then rinsed their mouths with saltwater made from cheap salt.
The cotton-stuffed beds, rather than straw, were a testament to the city's wealth.
A day spent sleeping on a bed that was neither too rough nor too hard.
What could be more valuable than that?
"Incredible."
One of the escorts remarked, and Krang agreed.
They spent the night without a single ambush.
'It's because that red-haired fellow disappeared.'
Krang's sharp insight helped him see the situation clearly.
The attacks had stopped after the man named Jaxon disappeared.
What did he do?
Krang found himself newly curious, but he wasn't about to ask.
He could already tell just by looking. This wasn't the kind of person who would answer if questioned.
As they left the city, the desperate efforts of the assassins continued. Yes, desperate was the right word.
"You won't pass through here!"
A man claiming to be a former champion of some arena charged at them.
"I will."
Dunbachel, a beastwoman, stepped forward and smashed the man's face with her knee.
She struck the man's spear with her scimitar, sending it flying, then immediately rushed forward and did the rest.
Pushing off the ground with her left foot, she drove her right knee upward. It was an excellent display of martial arts.
The champion, his face caved in, collapsed onto the ground.
"What kind of arena is that? Do they only gather chicks to fight?"
The beastwoman spoke and glared at the gathered crowd.
Seeing this, the crowd dispersed and fled.
As if the storm that had been brewing was a lie, the weather cleared up.
The group rode their horses at a moderate pace.
The best way to cover ground quickly was to pace the horses carefully, keeping them from getting too tired.
Calming the horses and maintaining a steady pace was fundamental for long-distance riding.
Then suddenly, an arrow came whistling toward them.
It was aimed precisely at Krang, but of course, Encrid caught it.
Thud.
The arrow quivered in Encrid's grip.
Krang saw the trembling arrow shaft stop right in front of him but wasn't too shocked.
It had been stopped, so it was fine.
Holding the arrow, Encrid gazed into the distance and spoke.
"This one seems real."
It marked the end of the clumsy attempts. Their enemy's final measure was a long-range sniper.
And this time, it wasn't amateurish but the work of a skilled archer.
Krang hadn't seen it, but Encrid spotted the archer on horseback in the distance, already fleeing.
Could they catch up if they gave chase on horseback?
No, that would be difficult.
So what now?
They would just have to keep deflecting every arrow that came.
The assassin had disappeared, replaced by an archer on horseback.
It was a trickier tactic, but still not a threat.
That was Krang's conclusion.
Even if dozens or hundreds of arrows were shot, he wouldn't die.
As long as Encrid was beside him, that was certain.
That was why he felt at peace.
So, the distant archer on horseback wasn't much of a threat.
Besides...
Neigh.
The wild horse let out a cry as it approached Encrid.
"Should we go catch him?"
Hearing Encrid's response, it seemed clear they wouldn't let the archer go.