Edin Molsen's head throbbed from the smell of burning oil in the lamp.
If he stayed here much longer, he wondered if he might die from not tasting fresh air, more than anything else.
Not from torture or beatings.
'Damn it.'
As soon as he cursed internally, the thought of his younger sibling suddenly pierced his mind.
When he looked up, there was a man sitting right in front of him, legs crossed. A strikingly handsome man, the kind even men would turn to look at. It was Krais, a name he knew well from the Madmen Platoon.
He never imagined that this bastard had been assigned to monitor him and his sibling. But now, blaming the situation wouldn't change anything, so Edin asked a practical and realistic question.
"My sibling?"
"They're perfectly fine. Eating less than usual, but I think that's just the secret to maintaining their figure."
His smooth tone was insufferable.
"If you'd fled right before the civil war broke out, none of this would have happened."
Edin almost replied that he wished he could have, but stopped himself.
How could he flee when he didn't know what was coming?
He knew that his father, the so-called King of the Border, had planned the civil war and was now executing it. But he couldn't openly talk about that.
No matter what anyone said, that man was still his father.
And committing treason surely meant a joint beheading.
Would he stand against his father?
Not a chance.
Edin knew the extent of his father's power. He wasn't a man who fought battles he couldn't win.
All Edin Molsen wanted was to live quietly somewhere with his sibling.
The East, the North, anywhere would do.
That's why he endured being beaten by that bastard Encrid.
He even convinced his father that his sibling could seduce Encrid to help them.
Looking back, though, it seemed his father had never cared about him at all.
'Not that he would've let us escape, anyway.'
"Kill me."
Edin said, knowing that these were his father's enemies, and they wouldn't keep him alive.
As an asset? Not a chance.
That father of his?
Deanne Molsen, his father, had stopped being human at some point. His coldness was like that of a permanently frozen land, eternal permafrost.
It wasn't obvious on the surface, but up close, he had an inhuman coldness.
'When did that start?'
Edin didn't know. It was beyond his comprehension. At some point, his father had changed.
"What do you mean, kill you?"
Krais shook his head from side to side, slapping his thigh loudly before speaking.
"Let's do this instead."
Krais knew how to handle people. He was quick-witted and good at assessing situations.
He had long since realized that Edin Molsen had no value as a hostage.
Count Molsen cared nothing for the son in front of him.
Nor for the daughter he had disguised as a man and brought along.
It wasn't Krais's concern to get involved in family matters, but one thing was clear.
'Edin Molsen wants to run away.'
His desire was obvious. There was no need for torture.
"Tell me everything you know, and head to Martai. We'll set you up with a new identity and a house. You probably planned to sell some jewels or trinkets to get by, but do you really think you can dispose of such items so easily? You'd be lucky not to get stabbed by a thief at night."
Krais had hidden people and earned money through the Krona before. He had even considered making a career of it at one point.
But he gave it up because the chance of getting stabbed or imprisoned was too high. Still, his old knack hadn't disappeared.
Through the Gilpin Guild, it was easily possible, so it wasn't a diffiCult task.
"You're really going to let me live?"
Suspicion filled Edin's eyes.
"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it either."
Krais gave a reasonable response that anyone would nod at.
"I swear on the honor of the Captain."
The Captain was Encrid. The weight that Encrid's name carried in the Border Guard was incomparable to anything else.
Even if people didn't know the name of the Lord, they all knew the name Encrid—even the kids playing in the streets.
"And if you're lying?"
"Do you have another option?"
Edin didn't have any other choices. He could trust and talk or just die.
"Sigh, damn it. I really got caught up in this."
Edin Molsen shared what he knew. It wasn't important to him, anyway.
He didn't know much, to begin with.
"There are five weapons in the Count's territory."
"Weapons, not men?"
The unit sounded odd.
"It's what they call five warriors, each wielding a different weapon."
The explanation wasn't long.
The Count's forces were divided into four main divisions, each commanded by one of the four Generals.
The rest of the organization was similar to that of the Kingdom.
Then, there were the five warriors, raised by the Count to protect him—known as Molsen's five weapons.
These five were also called monsters, proving their power through sheer might.
A mute warrior wielding a hammer, Malten.
A giant who used his body as a weapon, Benukt.
Zalvan, who mastered dual spears as if performing a trick.
Banat, the Fairy of the Leaf Blade.
And Lierbart, the bodyguard warrior of a fallen noble family.
"Each of them could've easily joined the Knightly orders. And they're all completely loyal to the Count."
Just thinking about them made Edin's mouth go dry.
They were all inhuman monsters.
Count Molsen was persistent and cunning. That's why no one knew the full extent of the power he had hidden.
"Do you think he's allied with the Cultists?"
Krais had the same thought, which is why he asked. Was the Count pulling in other groups, besides Aspen?
"No need. He's got his own forces."
Edin spoke, and Krais's relaxed expression quickly changed.
There was no need for more explanation.
"He's built an absurdly powerful army."
While the Border Guard was holding back Aspen.
While the Kingdom was holding back the Demon Realm and the South.
Count Molsen had stayed quiet. Despite being called the King of the Border, he hadn't caused much trouble.
He had been gathering strength all this time.
But was that all?
Would that sly man stop there?
There must be more tricks hidden. It was a certainty that started with suspicion.
Bang!
When Krais suddenly sprang up, kicking the chair back, it fell over with a thud.
Seeing that, Edin closed his eyes.
The die had been cast, and Edin felt like he knew what the result would be.
From outside, he could hear Krais shouting with all his strength.
"Audin! Commander Sinar! Battalion Commander Graham! We need to organize reinforcements immediately!"
* * *
"It was a mistake to knock down the sheriff like that."
The speaker was some guild master who had stuck close to Encrid. It was honestly annoying, but Encrid let it go.
The man had approached them with something resembling goodwill.
He had supported them with various weapons and equipment, even accompanying them on their journey to the Naurill Plains.
He also mentioned, more than once, that he had wielded a sword in his younger days.
So, it was his way of expressing a willingness to fight alongside the royal army.
"A mistake?"
Andrew, who was walking behind, reacted as if the comment irked him.
"I understand you're skilled, but don't you know? Reputation is just as important."
The guild master explained in a defensive tone, to which Andrew responded with a snicker. The guild master, seeing this, frowned for a moment before quickly regaining his composure.
After all, Andrew was the head of the rising noble family, the Gardners.
And the five trainees under him were all known to be exceptionally skilled.
Encrid didn't care what the guild master tagging along had to say.
Why was this even being brought up?
It didn't take much thought to figure it out.
No one who had seen what Encrid had done had spoken about it widely.
Asia, who had some knowledge of the situation, wasn't the type to gossip.
Would Rem talk? Gossiping was Rem's specialty, but there wasn't anyone here for him to chatter with. And as for Ragna and Jaxon, there was no need to mention them.
Would Esther step up and say:
"This is the man who saved your King?"
Not likely.
Of course, there were those who had seen Encrid in action.
The ones he had faced when rescuing Krang. They had witnessed his swordsmanship when he cut down a Squire in one stroke, but they had fled immediately after.
Obviously, they hadn't had the chance to talk about it.
Krang hadn't said much, nor had Matthew. Even the trident-wielding bodyguard had been silent.
But if anyone started spreading nonsense, both Matthew and the trident guard would have been furious.
It wasn't that no rumors had spread at all, though.
There were the Squire Lawford and some of the palace maids.
Thanks to them, the story had started to circulate.
The rumors that Encrid, the hero of the Border Guard, was the real deal.
Slowly, the earlier talk about him being an exaggerator or an empty shell was fading.
But not all nobles were ready to acknowledge him.
So what?
As mentioned before, Encrid didn't care at all. Neither did the people who had gathered around him.
Unless someone came to mock them directly.
And if they didn't?
There was no need to bother.
Encrid's mind was preoccupied with other things.
There were many things to think about, many things to do.
All the way to the Naurill Plains, Encrid had been reflecting on what had happened.
Starting with the moment when Ingis, a Knight of the Red Cape Knights, sought him out before leaving.
"I am Ingis of the Red Cape Knights. I have a feeling we'll meet again."
Even though Encrid hadn't done anything in particular, Ingis's interest had clearly been directed at him.
"Next time, I hope we can spar."
Without doing much to encourage it, Encrid had caught Ingis's attention.
"Why do you want to fight the Captain?"
Rem had asked curiously.
It was usually Encrid who challenged others to fight, but the reverse was rare.
"I've got a good sense about these things. You seem like an interesting person."
Ingis had brushed his hair back and spoke seriously.
In Encrid's eyes, the man seemed like a truly unique individual.
"Well then, until next time."
He left, saying he had many troublesome matters to attend to in the South. Before departing, he repeated once or twice that they would meet again.
"You're becoming more of a man to fall for with each passing day."
After that, Luagarne came to see him. After crossing blades a few times, she said,
"At this point, it's beyond my abilities."
Her ankle was still not fully healed. Even for a Frog, it's impossible to regrow an ankle in a single day.
But even so, the difference in skill was obvious.
"Still, there's more I can teach."
For five days, Luagarne helped fine-tune Encrid's mastery of the Correct Sword Technique.
Naturally, Encrid diligently absorbed everything.
'Did I do it like this back then?'
While marching, Encrid kept moving his hand in various ways, recalling his swordsmanship. It was part of his daily routine, and everyone saw it but thought nothing of it.
After all, there weren't many people to watch him since he didn't have soldiers under his command.
There were only Ragna, Jaxon, Dunbachel, Rem, and Andrew.
Except for Andrew, the others originally belonged to the Border Guard Reserve Unit, so it was no surprise that he had no troops of his own.
The journey to the Naurill Plains was smooth. No ambushes, no attacks.
The scouts constantly reported the enemy's movements.
Throughout that time, Encrid simply kept refining what he had honed over the past month.
A month, which could usually be considered a short time, felt different this time.
"You've improved a lot."
Ragna's gaze had changed.
"Sigh, come at me. I'll take you on, half-seriously at least."
He even managed to draw out some seriousness from Rem.
"This makes no sense."
Asia, who had come to visit after recovering to some extent, shook her head. She couldn't understand how someone could improve so much in just a few days.
"It's hard to recognize who you were before."
Even Jaxon made such a remark. It was high praise. Encrid merely nodded in response.
For the past month, Encrid had barely spoken.
He had simply focused on swinging his sword.
Was it because of the challenge posed by the ferryman?
That wasn't the whole reason.
Deep inside Encrid, the memory of the Junior-Knight who had severed his flow kept surfacing.
Encrid repeatedly asked himself, deep within his inner thoughts.
'What if I had fought until the end?'
What would have happened?
Through these repeated questions, he found the answer. No, he already knew the answer.
The experience gained through Countless repetitions of that day.
Now, after walking and walking, his vision had finally cleared.
At most, three strikes—that's all it would take.
He could overcome it.
That's why the obstacle wasn't a wall for him.
It was a fresh experience.
It was only a month.
Compared to the Countless repetitions of that day, it seemed like such a short time, but the time had become rich in concentration and density.
Encrid showed noticeable improvement day by day. Each day was a moment when he absorbed the accumulated experience from those repetitions. To others, it seemed like nothing short of a miracle.
"Well, at least you won't die easily anymore."
That was Rem's conclusion.
And so, they arrived at the Naurill Plains.
As summer arrived, green shoots sprouted and grew across the field, and beyond them, the enemy appeared.
The line of soldiers was enough to make anyone's head spin just by looking at them.
"That's a hell of a lot."
Rem was the first to speak. Ragna nodded, and Jaxon, with his arms crossed, only slightly lifted his head.
Dunbachel scanned the line from the left to the right before speaking.
"Looks like they've got three times as many as we do."
She was right. The numbers were overwhelming.
The Commanders in Krang's army had suspected that the Count might have involved a Cult or tried some kind of trick.
They were mistaken.
The difference in sheer numbers was undeniable. The well-trained army of the Lord's domain numbered close to ten thousand.
Just seeing their ranks halted and formed was enough to crush the morale of their side.
The army assembled to face the civil war was roughly three thousand.
They were outnumbered, outmatched in training, and clearly facing a losing battle.
Ahead of the army stood the five weapons of the Count. Each was flanked by two adjutants, who were also brimming with a formidable presence.
Though the weather was bright and clear, it felt as if dark clouds were gathering.
A black cloud hovering solely over their side.
And then—
"I'll go say hello."
One man, who had been silently focused on his swordsmanship all the way here, stepped forward.
He wanted to test his sword. On some level, he also instinctively sought to turn the tide of the current atmosphere.
It was the sense he had developed, the ability to read the mood and strategy, from his battles with Aspen.
"Come here, Odd-Eye."
Encrid called out to his odd-eyed horse, which had become reliable in carrying him, and mounted.
The sound of a horn echoed with a long blast.
Boom boom boom boom!
As the drums beat, a single rider moved forward.
"Come at me, anyone."
He called out. While most were left in stunned silence, one of the adjutants of Zalvan, one of the five weapons, stepped forward.
"I'll bring back your head."
The opponent wanted a duel, and that would suffice.
The adjutant thrust his long spear forward and rode out on his horse.
His opponent dismounted.
What kind of fool dismounts in a situation like this?
Neigh!
The adjutant's horse let out a loud cry.
"Ha!"
With a shout, he spurred his horse on, and the ground began to rumble beneath its weight.
The warrior on horseback, wielding his spear, seemed as though he could turn any person standing on foot into minced meat or skewer them like a roast.
"Ah..."
Someone in the royal army pointed ahead with their mouth agape.
Shouldn't they avoid that?
Such was the question on everyone's mind.
But most just stood and watched.
It wasn't that everything had happened in the blink of an eye, but what else could they do?
In this situation, all they could do was watch.
Those who had eyes and could see the situation unfolding thought the man would be impaled and killed by the spear.
Those who didn't know Encrid thought so.
Only a few remained calm. They knew who had stepped forward.
Boom boom boom boom!
The horse quickly closed the distance. Even from afar, the heavy weight of the charge was apparent. Dust kicked up into the air.
The grass was crushed beneath the hooves, flying up behind them.
Compared to how smoothly Encrid's mount had moved earlier, this was a violent charge.
Whoosh!
The spear sliced through the air. Zalvan's adjutant and his horse rode past their opponent.
Splatter!
Blood sprayed into the air like paint splashed onto a canvas.
The horse continued onward, but the rider had left half of his body behind.
The upper half of the man holding the spear seemed to be pulled by an invisible string, hanging in the air for a moment before crashing to the ground.
Blood and guts stained the grass and earth.
He was the first casualty.
Though he couldn't hear it, Encrid spoke as if it didn't matter.
"Next."