"The biggest problem in the Capital right now is the factions. The groups that were fighting each other are now even preparing for war."
Andrew spoke within the limits of what he knew, and Encrid added what Rem had told him and pieced it all together in his mind.
"There's nothing useful here. It's like everyone's just selling junk."
That was Rem's comment after checking out the Capital's market.
There were plenty of people and goods, but when it came to buying something...
"I'm sorry, this is already ordered by so-and-so from such-and-such house."
It was all treated like military supplies.
Weapons and food weren't circulating smoothly. And what does that imply?
'It means they're stationing their own armies nearby.'
They'd likely summon their forces inside the Capital if things went south.
The issue was that this wasn't happening with the Queen's approval.
"Even the Royal Guard has splintered into several factions. It's become such a joke."
"A joke?"
Encrid had a habit of asking 'What joke?' whenever someone said something was funny.
It was his way of showing the best posture for the speaker.
Andrew continued without pause.
"Yes, a joke. They're assassinating each other, and then some Inquisitor shows up and arrests people for heresy. Lately, you can even hear strange animal cries at night, and every few days, someone goes missing."
"This is the Capital."
"Yes, the Capital. I know. It's a big city. People go missing frequently in a place this large. But this… this is unusual. And there's no Commander to properly investigate these assassinations or disappearances. The gatekeepers at each city gate are doing their best, but what can they do when their hands are tied?"
Encrid folded his arms.
He could see Andrew's face redden over the old table.
It wasn't something he could talk about calmly.
Encrid asked the flushed face a question.
"And what about the royal bloodline coming here amidst all this?"
"It's like pouring fuel on the fire. The faction nobles, who've been watching and waiting, now have a reason to draw their swords. It's clear what their goal is. They say they came to end the factional struggle and entered the Capital for that purpose."
End the struggle? Naturally, the question arose.
"How?"
That was the only thing worth wondering about.
Andrew raised both hands and shrugged.
"I don't know the method."
Krang would handle Krang's matters.
So, what should he do?
What had he expected most when he decided to come to the Capital?
'Will I have to return without even meeting a single Knight?'
He was looking for a chance to fight, to train, to open his eyes to something new. That was it.
Listening to Andrew quietly, he couldn't help but think that the hidden warriors of the factional nobles would soon come out.
They would fight. They would fight for their lives.
The thought stirred a sense of anticipation in him.
Just as he had learned while teaching students, there would be new opportunities if he went to the Royal Palace.
If thinking too hard didn't lead to an answer, sometimes it was best to simply follow one's heart.
That's what Encrid decided to do.
Stand by the side of a friend he liked and join in the sword dance.
He made the decision based on someone's warning.
Was this an impulsive decision?
"What are you thinking about so much?"
Rem asked from beside him. He was the type to go along with whatever Encrid decided.
"I was just thinking, maybe I should cut off the Queen's head and become a faction noble myself."
When he said whatever came to mind.
"What, you wanna start a fight? Sounds good. I like it."
This madman seemed to hear nothing but the part about wanting to fight.
Typical Rem.
"What did you just say…?"
"Just kidding."
Only after calming down a startled Andrew.
As Encrid began mentally organizing his tasks, he felt a chilling sensation brush his back.
He turned naturally.
In the corner of the reception room, leaning against a pillar and half-hidden in the shadows, stood Jaxon.
"Hey, wanna take a walk?"
From the look in his eyes, it seemed like if he left him alone, he would cause trouble.
When was the last time he saw eyes like that?
Right before Rem and Jaxon's emotions escalated to the extreme, right when they were about to draw their swords, that's when he saw those eyes.
In other words, Jaxon looked like he was about to draw his sword.
But why? Did Jaxon also get attacked?
No, it was something else.
Encrid instinctively understood.
'It's because I said we should go to the Royal Palace.'
That must be it.
"Sure."
Jaxon replied and began walking outside. Was it just his imagination, or did Jaxon seem to be holding back some impulse?
"Is he on drugs or something?"
Rem muttered.
"I'll be back."
With that, Encrid left.
Encrid followed behind Jaxon.
They stepped outside the mansion and walked between the shadows.
The wind whistled by, scattering their hair.
Soon, the two were walking side by side.
Encrid nodded as he glanced at the moonlight, starlight, and the distant glow of a brazier.
They walked along the mansion wall on the dark night road.
"I have something I must do."
Jaxon spoke first.
"Hmm, yeah."
Encrid nodded.
Whatever it was, Jaxon would handle it.
"I need to do something for that, but it's a bit troublesome and I'm conflicted."
"Conflicted?"
Not a word that seemed to suit Jaxon.
Encrid thought for a moment. He had a feeling Jaxon had something to say, but what could he actually do to help?
"It's about killing someone."
Jaxon said.
Well, yeah, of course.
Given the current mood, that seemed even more likely. So, what was he supposed to say?
After a moment of thought, Encrid spoke.
"Do your best."
Jaxon wasn't the type to ask for help, and he usually handled things on his own.
So, there wasn't much else to say.
Encrid nodded and patted Jaxon on the shoulder.
After giving his shoulder a couple of firm taps, Encrid thought Jaxon's eyes seemed calmer than before and turned around to head back inside.
Jaxon, watching this, stopped in his tracks.
He stared at his leader's back, the figure moving forward under the starlight and moonlight.
'I knew he wasn't normal.'
It was a thought that struck him anew.
And he's giving me encouragement?
'Because he trusts me?'
Was it trust? Confidence? Could that be the reason?
Jaxon's eyes flickered with uncertainty once more. Meanwhile, Encrid was deep in thought as he walked.
If Rem or Ragna caused trouble, it would be a public spectacle, but not Jaxon.
There was a reason people called him a sneaky alley cat.
Jaxon would do what he needed to do—quietly, discreetly.
That's what Encrid thought.
As he turned to leave, a voice came from behind.
"It's about vengeance and revenge."
Jaxon said. His voice was at just the right volume to reach Encrid's ears.
"What?"
Encrid turned around. He was the type to listen carefully whenever someone had something to say, and this was no different.
Fully turning his body around, he took on a posture that asked,
"Are you really about to say something?"
When Jaxon simply stared back silently, Encrid instinctively moved toward two stones by the mansion wall.
He sat down and pulled out some seasoned jerky and a flask from his belt.
Was this thorough preparation? Or just coincidence?
The flask gave off the scent of alcohol. It wasn't sweet apple cider but strong brandy.
Jaxon took the flask, raised it to his lips, and took a gulp.
As the hot liquid coursed down his throat, a fiery warmth rose from his stomach back to his throat.
It was strong liquor.
Of course, Jaxon wasn't going to get drunk. He had chewed poisonous herbs since childhood to build resistance.
A body that could withstand poison wouldn't be affected by alcohol.
Suddenly, memories of chewing and swallowing those toxic plants to endure came flooding back.
What had been the driving force that allowed him to survive it all?
Death was the beginning of it.
The death of his family, his parents, everyone he knew.
He had witnessed death and wielded it as a weapon.
That had been the path of his life.
Encrid took back the flask, took a sip, and asked,
"Who is your enemy?"
"There was an organization called the Black Lily."
Jaxon began his story slowly.
It was simple, as if there was no sadness at all in his words, the story unfolded like that.
* * *
His father was cruel, and his mother was merciless.
"If necessary, stab even your friend's back."
That was what his father had said. And it became his father's final words.
After that, Jaxon lived by that command. If necessary, he would stab anyone's back.
"What a ruthless bastard."
Then he met a mentor.
He went through many experiences, and before long, his position had changed.
He had lived a life chewing on poisonous herbs and carving scars across his entire body.
The path Jaxon had walked was drenched in blood. No, he had carved a path with blood and walked it.
Step after step, he kept walking.
Jaxon was the scion of a noble house.
Jaxon Vensino—that was his name.
The Vensino family was quite an influential noble house.
They ventured into the trade business and succeeded greatly, but his father desired even more.
Was that the mistake?
Who knows.
Jaxon decided not to dwell on who was right or wrong. He set a simple, clear goal.
Revenge. He would kill everyone involved.
"Hey, you're gonna die young if you keep that up."
His mentor had scolded him for that.
Jaxon didn't listen. He walked a single, unwavering path.
"When is that one ever going to become human?"
"Is that something someone who runs an Assassination Guild should say?"
He remembered how his mentor had chuckled at that reply.
"Yeah, better to get angry. That looks better on you."
It was a trivial conversation.
His goal was clear. He gathered information and investigated.
His family had fallen. Was it because of a series of unfortunate events?
Not even close. It had been someone's scheme.
Jaxon decided to hold the person responsible for that scheme accountable.
That's how he found the name.
The Black Lily.
It was the name of the organization. And what had they done together? Their goal was to line their own pockets.
Some of them became bandits under a vicious Lord.
Others became nobles of a nation. And some disappeared like smoke.
The first one Jaxon found had lost everything, throwing his life into the gutter and sinking into despair.
"Why did you do it?"
He was curious. They had ruined a noble house and devoured several trade guilds.
Many people had died because of the Black Lily.
There must have been a reason.
"Reason? Fuck that."
The disgraced power-holder laughed bitterly.
"Do you know how much we could make by tearing apart the Vensino family? You idiot. Everyone lives by screwing over others."
The man who had given up on everything didn't even value his own life.
Was killing him perhaps an act of mercy?
Would sending him to hell be something he'd thank Jaxon for?
Killing him with a simple slash to the throat would have been a blessing.
But Jaxon didn't want that. He didn't kill him with his own hands.
Instead, he severed the tendons in the man's limbs and threw him into the slums.
Four days later, he was torn apart and eaten alive.
That year, due to a drought, people killed over a handful of wheat.
With even roots being precious, survival in the slums was impossible.
The man's last words lingered in Jaxon's ears.
Everyone lives by screwing over others.
That man had been a friend of Jaxon's cruel father. Or rather, he used to be.
"If you keep looking forward, there's no need to look back."
His mother's merciless words also remained in his heart.
Does anything go as long as it's for your goal?
If that's what it takes, then so be it.
It took him several more years to find the ringleaders of the Black Lily, and in the meantime, his mentor died.
He would never understand his mentor's final words. So, he chose to forget them.
He never recalled them again. He buried them.
"If necessary, stab even your friend's back."
"Just keep looking forward."
Instead, Jaxon recalled his father's and mother's words. Their words tangled and intertwined in his mind.
"Everyone lives by screwing over others."
The dead man's words mixed in as well.
After that, Jaxon killed four of the ringleaders of the Black Lily.
It wasn't until he was hunting down the fifth one that he discovered that one of the ringleaders had specifically targeted the Vensino family.
Could this be his true enemy?
He didn't know their name or identity.
Through a few clues and deductions, he was led to Avnair.
Avnair had directed him to the Royal Palace of Naurillia, and so Jaxon had come.
While Encrid was being attacked, and Rem, Dunbachel, and Ragna were wandering the marketplace, complaining about the poor quality of goods, Jaxon entered a mansion in the residential area.
The old mansion was covered in cobwebs, with barely any signs of habitation.
There, he saw the one who had lured him in.
A white-haired man with a monocle.
His body was frail, but he carried a cane-sword, and his eyes were so narrow that it was impossible to read his gaze.
Jaxon knew immediately.
They were the same type—professionals in the same business.
"You're from Geor's Dagger, aren't you?"
The man guessed Jaxon's origin. Of course, that was expected. It was information Jaxon had deliberately let slip to get this far.
Geor's Dagger was the top Assassination Guild across the entire continent.
Even so, the man showed no fear. Was it confidence in his own skills? No, it was because he believed he had Jaxon at a disadvantage.
"I know what you're looking for."
The white-haired man spoke.
"What is it?"
Jaxon asked. His brown eyes, tinged with faint red in the darkness, seemed to absorb the shadows.
"You're the last heir of the Vensino family, aren't you?"
Ah, yes, he should at least know that much.
"I can give you all the information you seek. Everything, no matter what it is."
Jaxon waited for his next words.
"In return, stab him."
There was no need to ask who 'him' referred to. The man with the black hair and blue eyes, the Commander of Jaxon's unit.
"Stab Encrid."
It was a request to kill the man he called his Captain. In exchange, he would receive the information he had spent his entire life searching for.
* * *
Encrid sat quietly, gazing at the moon. The flask in his hand made a sloshing sound as the liquid inside swirled.
Jaxon, watching him, spoke of revenge and his enemies.
One of them was inside the Royal Palace, and he needed to enter and find him.
He left out the part about meeting the white-haired professional.
"Alright, let's find him."
Encrid spoke. There was no smile. It wasn't a joke. He meant it. His words were filled with sincerity.
It was clear he wanted to help. If Jaxon didn't refuse, he would aid him. He would do everything he could.
Jaxon knew that.
That's the kind of person he was.
But could they really find someone, after all this time, just by trying harder? This was someone Jaxon hadn't been able to track down, no matter how much he wandered.
A much easier path lay before Jaxon.
His father's, his mother's, and his first enemy's words flashed through his mind.
"If necessary, stab even your friend's back."
"Just keep looking forward. There's no need to look back."
"Everyone lives by screwing over others."
It was the path Jaxon had walked all his life. A path paved with blood, swords, and poison.
A path he could easily continue walking if he chose to.