Chapter 173
What had been the original barrier?
‘Taking injuries to defeat the gnoll leader.’
The gnoll leader had been incredibly fast and wielded poisoned daggers.
‘A fight where even a scratch meant death.’
A battle where a single wound determined the outcome.
It almost felt like a challenge tailored just for him—a test of reaction speed, of coordinating movement with sight.
Without mastering those, he never could have won.
Encrid had considered the gnoll leader a wall to overcome, but he had altered the approach slightly.
Some might call it a trick, a loophole.
‘What if I fought without taking any injuries?’
He would still lose stamina, but it was possible.
And, as a side effect, most of the settlers wouldn’t have to die.
So, Encrid had done exactly that.
Now, it was time to see what came next.
Simply put—he needed to confirm whether he had truly overcome the wall, or if it had all been a pointless effort.
It was an easy confirmation.
All he had to do was wait.
And the result?
‘It’s not resetting.’
Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.
No matter how many times he blinked, everything remained the same.
The night was deep, the time to return had long passed.
Conclusion—he had passed the wall.
“What are you doing?”
Krys’s voice cut in.
He was sprawled nearby, his voice one Encrid had been hearing for a while now.
Muttering to himself about how unlucky this year had been, how ridiculous everything was. Then, he had turned to Encrid and asked.
“I think this year’s been lucky for me.”
“Well, you’re not exactly wrong. If your luck had been bad, you wouldn’t have made it back alive. But seriously, what’s with your eyes? You look like you’re possessed. It’s creepy—stop it.”
“Oh, really?”
Yet, Encrid blinked a few more times.
As he blinked, he thought—
Had he really managed to get through the day using this loophole?
Or was this the intended path all along?
Or perhaps, overcoming the wall was all that mattered?
He had no idea.
So much was beyond his understanding.
The fact that he had been repeating today to begin with was already something he couldn’t comprehend.
‘Will this show up in my dreams?’
Would it be worth asking the Ferryman?
Not that he expected a pleasant answer.
Still, asking might be better than not asking at all.
All of it was useless thinking.
Wasting energy on these thoughts meant nothing. Better to just swing his sword a few more times.
Press.
Mid-thought, Esther pressed down on his chest.
Perhaps as payment for all the fun he had earlier, she had clung to his chest ever since they had returned.
Even when he bathed, in a wooden tub filled with hot water that some workers had prepared, she had joined him.
“Kyarhaa.”
She had enjoyed it so much that instead of her usual sharp cries, she had let out a soft, satisfied sigh.
She had also kneaded his chest with her paws before dozing off, purring contentedly.
Encrid had held her while washing to prevent her from drowning—not that he really thought she’d drown.
And now, as he sat, he finally processed the fact that an entire day had passed.
He had overcome the wall and survived.
He had learned something new using Perception of Evasion.
Today was over.
Tomorrow was coming.
“So, it’s tomorrow now.”
He muttered, caught in the wind, the moonlight, the night itself.
“It’s still the middle of the night.”
Crunch, crunch.
A figure approached, covered in dirt and leaves.
Frok.
And behind her, silhouetted by the moonlight, Ruagarne returned.
“You’re back?”
He had been wondering when they’d return, and apparently, it was after an entire day had passed.
She hadn’t even known about the monster and beast attack while she was away.
“I ran far past the quarry. That guy you mentioned—the cultist—it was him. He got away.”
Encrid and Ruagarne caught up on what had happened.
So, she had lost the cultist.
“You lost him?”
Frok? Losing a human?
Even if he was a cultist—even if he was a priest?
A Frok, failing to capture a mere human?
The words kept writing and erasing themselves in Encrid’s mind.
Ruagarne found herself growing irritated at his reaction. That irritation spilled out.
“He was hard to catch.”
“Oh, I see. Of course.”
She had let her guard down?
Or was she just an idiot?
Maybe that was why she was still here instead of returning to the capital.
“Something’s off.”
“What?”
“Your eyes keep saying something else.”
“What, me?”
Encrid’s expression remained neutral.
Only his eyes told a different story.
Frok may have been simple-minded, but they had sharp instincts.
“…Hey.”
“Yes?”
“…Never mind.”
It was true. She had lost him.
She hadn’t actually heard him call her an idiot.
His eyes had been annoyingly disrespectful, but it wasn’t intentional.
Still, she had lost him.
And yet, why did this feel so—
“The cultist must be connected to the monster horde.”
Encrid said it as a matter of fact.
Ruagarne nodded.
“There’s a chance the retreating gnolls didn’t disperse.”
She nodded again.
If the priest was truly a cultist, he could easily take the place of the colony’s leader.
The attacking monsters weren’t some legendary beasts.
Gnolls were still just low-tier monsters.
Low-tier monsters were inherently stupid.
Like ghouls—who were practically brainless.
Compared to ghouls, gnolls weren’t exactly brilliant either.
They just had pack instincts and were prone to ambush tactics.
One-on-one, a gnoll was often easier to deal with than a ghoul.
Of course, once they were armed and organized into a militia-like force, that was another story.
“The gnolls’ equipment was strangely well-maintained. So, the cultists must have supplied them. Which means…”
Encrid concluded,
“They might come back tomorrow.”
At that moment, Ruagarne swore Encrid’s eyes were saying something else entirely.
‘This is all your fault for letting him escape.’
“You—your damn eyes…”
She was about to say something when, as if on cue, Deutsch Pullman walked up.
“They didn’t just retreat on their own?”
Deutsch, who had been lingering nearby, couldn’t ignore the conversation any longer.
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Why?”
At Deutsch’s question, Encrid’s gaze briefly flicked toward Ruagarne.
Then, he answered.
“The one pulling the strings behind the monster horde is still out there.”
“The mastermind? Yeah, something about this felt off.”
Deutsch nodded. It made too much sense.
An armed force of monsters.
A horde of creatures and beasts gathered in abnormal numbers.
And among their own ranks, a traitor—someone had been working against them.
“Oh, and your missing lieutenant? He was a cultist.”
Encrid’s words hit like a hammer.
That bastard?
Deutsch shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
No time for useless distractions.
“I sent a pigeon, but reinforcements will take at least a week. There’s no one close enough to send help.”
There was no point in calling some half-baked mercenary band.
Even if they could afford to hire a proper one, the cost would be astronomical.
And even then, gathering enough mercenaries to match this scale of battle was nearly impossible.
Deutsch had only one option.
He had already sent word to the noble who backed this settlement, requesting aid.
But even if they moved fast, they wouldn’t arrive for at least a week.
“A whole week, huh.”
Encrid muttered, as if to himself.
His voice was quiet, almost like he wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular.
His gaze was lost in thought.
Deutsch didn’t bother asking what he meant. He had enough to worry about already.
They had to reinforce the walls.
If the retreating monsters were tied to the cult, they might even face magic attacks.
If their enemy was a cultist, then they had to prepare for curses that could break their minds.
You could never predict what those bastards would do.
Some of them had taken over entire villages in the mountains, acting like gods.
And now that the cultist had escaped, who knew what kind of orders he had given the gnolls?
“I’ll take care of the cultist.”
Ruagarne said.
For Deutsch, that was at least one thing to feel relieved about.
“Thanks.”
He meant it.
Ruagarne, however, met Encrid’s gaze.
Those piercing blue eyes gleamed oddly beneath his dark hair.
‘You spilled the mess, now clean it up yourself?’
That’s what it felt like his eyes were saying.
Grumble.
Her cheek twitched involuntarily.
She had nothing to say in return.
After all, she had lost the cultist.
Still, handling summoning magic alone was no easy feat.
Clearly, Encrid had never dealt with it himself.
He didn’t understand just how much of a pain it was.
When you fought using only steel, magic wasn’t something you could just cut through.
It wasn’t like facing a swordsman—you couldn’t simply block or parry.
“…What’s wrong?”
Encrid’s eyes remained sharp and unchanging.
Rather than waste her breath arguing with those damn blue eyes, Ruagarne decided—
If the cultist really did return tomorrow, leading another horde, she’d prove herself then.
“So, no sparring today?”
She asked as she stepped away.
“I had Esther do something earlier, and now she’s like this. So not today.”
Encrid absentmindedly stroked the little panther resting against his chest.
That left no room for further discussion.
“I see.”
Ruagarne accepted it and left.
She had spotted a stream earlier.
A quick swim in cool water sounded perfect right now.
—
“Can we hold out?”
Krys asked as he watched Ruagarne leave.
Encrid, who had been standing idly, tilted his head.
“Hold out?”
“The gnolls are coming back tomorrow, aren’t they?”
“Oh. Yeah, probably.”
His casual tone, his indifferent expression—
What the hell is this squad leader thinking now?
Krys’s eyes spoke volumes.
And Encrid wasn’t one to let things slide.
He knew these tendencies had to be crushed early.
Thud!
Encrid, still half-reclined, suddenly kicked Krys in the chest.
“Urgh!”
Krys tumbled sideways.
“Wh—what was that for?”
“Your eyes were acting up.”
Encrid said flatly.
Krys knew him too well.
Once Encrid made up his mind about something, he always followed through.
And he wasn’t dumb—he caught things fast.
If Encrid had noticed his silent complaint, it meant his eyes had betrayed him.
Normally, he’d joke around, but if Encrid wasn’t in the mood, his foot had a way of correcting things.
Just like now.
“My eyes…”
“Yeah. Keep them in check.”
“…Yes, sir. I’ll watch myself.”
Satisfied, Encrid nodded.
Now it was time to sleep.
A proper rest would keep him in top shape for tomorrow.
His wounds had already been treated.
His muscles were sore from the strain, but by morning, they’d be fine.
‘I wonder how well that provoked Frok will fight.’
That was the last thought in his head as he drifted off.
—
While Encrid slept soundly, Deutsch Pullman, his men, and the rest of the settlers spent the night balancing between hope and despair.
“They said the monsters had retreated, didn’t they?”
“They’re coming back?”
“The cult is involved? O, Lord of the Sun, my master…”
“Watch over us, my Lord.”
“Ahh, demons! Demons are coming!”
The fearful wept and rambled.
The devout prayed.
The rational understood the severity of the situation.
The commanders prepared their defenses.
Each had their own worries, their own duties to fulfill.
Most of them had no choice but to stay up through the night.
Guards patrolled until dawn.
It was a night of exhaustion.
A day survived—thanks to Encrid.
Deutsch was certain.
Without him, the battle would have been lost.
He had seen how Encrid fought.
But they couldn’t expect him to repeat that miracle.
That had been a fluke—an unexpected, chaotic success.
After all, what kind of sane person willingly threw themselves into a horde of monsters?
—
As dawn broke—
The guard posted outside Encrid’s quarters saw him emerge.
A warrior with dark, unkempt hair and piercing blue eyes.
A man they had started calling their hero.
Encrid started his morning later than usual.
As soon as he stepped outside, he loosened up, drenched himself in sweat, and continued his training.
Isn’t that too much?
Should he really be exhausting himself like this?
Concerned, one of the enforcers spoke up.
“Uh… Shouldn’t you rest, at least today?”
Yesterday had been brutal.
And today… they had no idea if another crisis awaited them.
Encrid simply nodded.
“I had a good dream.”
…What?
The enforcer was pretty sure he had asked about rest.
But Encrid, as usual, only said what he wanted to say.
He remained focused. He trained.
Then, Frok appeared.
“A good dream? You were thrashing in your sleep.”
“Must’ve been sleep-talking.”
Frok and Encrid exchanged words casually.
The enforcer, realizing there was nothing more to say, stepped back.
Not long after, the panther and the wide-eyed soldier arrived.
The soldier yawned, then met the enforcer’s gaze and gave a slight nod.
The enforcer nodded back.
Last came the female ranger.
“Hoo…”
She exhaled deeply.
Just by the way she walked, it was obvious—she wasn’t in great shape.
“Why are you even out here?”
Encrid asked.
“I need to at least fire my bow.”
She answered flatly.
“No need.”
“They’re coming again today, right?”
“Probably.”
“Then that’s good.”
Encrid. Finn. Encrid again. Then, finally, Frok spoke.
The enforcer struggled to follow their conversation.
“Good if they come.”
Frok repeated.
This time, there was weight behind the words.
An intensity.
A killing aura.
A battle-thirst.
The enforcer only looked at Frok and felt his knees go weak.
Then—
DONG! DONG! DONG!
The emergency bell rang, echoing through the village.
His stomach dropped.
Worst-case scenarios always have a way of becoming reality.
Or maybe—
The things you dread most always come knocking at your door.
Whichever way you put it, the meaning was the same.
“Gnolls!”
A runner sprinted from the front line, shouting.
The defense strategy that Deutsch had devised the night before was about to be tested.
Encrid moved immediately.
His body was ready—he just needed to grab his gear.
Krys had cleaned his swords before going to bed, wiping the blood away and polishing them with a thick oil made from rendered animal fat.
His armor was intact, though some of the chain links underneath had gotten bent.
Nothing serious.
He might run low on throwing knives—but today might be a day for swordplay alone.
That settled it.
“Well then, Ruagarne?”
Encrid called out as he fastened his armor.
Frok nodded.
This was her chance—to redeem herself.
To prove her worth.
And maybe—just maybe—wipe that arrogant look out of Encrid’s damn blue eyes.
“Let’s go.”
Ruagarne answered.
The group moved.
Finn joined them. If nothing else, she could at least watch and learn.
Krys sighed deeply, muttering about his terrible luck, but followed regardless.
It wasn’t like complaining would change anything.
What mattered was that they had to fight together.
DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG!
The emergency bell continued to ring above them.
