Chapter 260

It was a conversation they’d had before leaving Martai.

“You’ve gotta lie and beat them.”

Whether it was the Black Blade Bandits or that priest, Krys had a firm belief in how to deal with fools.

Encrid agreed.

“Let’s do that.”

“Yessir!”

With a cheerful reply, Big-Eyes had made a lot of preparations.

This was the result of that.

“Come now, kill them all! Quickly!”

The fat-bellied priest, who had been secretly feeding information about Encrid’s group, shouted.

Where had that priest gotten his information?

‘Right, he’s a moron.’

He had trusted a child who promised him a few copper coins and happily gave away what he knew.

Far too easily—truly, pathetically easy.

Afterward, Krys predicted the Black Blade would strike.

More precisely, he chose locations along their route that would be ideal for an ambush and secured them first. He also checked the sky, estimating a cloudy day.

Snow would be nice, but even an overcast sky would do.

He created a situation that would lure the Black Blade Bandits into launching an ambush.

‘They’re really just stupid, aren’t they?’

Krys began to question if the Black Blade Bandits were even a real threat.

Sending a few mercenaries and hoping this group would just die?

Of course, it was all due to lack of information.

The Swallow Sword never survived to report anything, and hearing rumors alone wasn’t enough to gauge Encrid’s squad.

Especially not the strength of the others under him.

Rem kicked off the ground, and Krys saw it.

Then Rem disappeared.

Boom!

The ground Rem had kicked cracked and groaned.

A streak remained in his wake—and that streak severed the neck of the iron mace-wielding brute.

“Goddamn, that’s one sharp edge!”

Rem’s voice followed.

Krys hadn’t caught all of the barbarian’s movement, but the result told the story.

His brilliant mind filled in the gaps.

‘The iron mace came down from above, but before it landed, Rem’s axe split the guy’s neck.’

His hands and feet had moved several times faster than the swinging mace.

The reason Rem commented on how sharp the axe was? The enemy had worn a full helmet that got split clean in two.

Blood splattered across the thin layer of white snow. Red melted into white.

More snow began to fall atop it.

Encrid observed the battlefield. While Krys guessed from results, Encrid saw it all in real-time.

“Don’t you dare surrender!”

Rem charged in gleefully. Dunbakel and Teresa followed suit.

One of the mercenaries shouted upon recognizing Dunbakel.

“You fucking traitor bitch!”

He hurled a long spear at her. His technique wasn’t bad.

At least, not compared to the old Dunbakel.

But that’s all it was.

Dunbakel was no longer that clumsy beastwoman.

Her body seemed to ripple and stretch like a wave. For a moment, it looked like she’d split into three afterimages.

It was her agility—brief side steps creating blurred illusions.

At the same time, her scimitar drew, slicing through air and snow until it struck the man’s head.

Every moment was split and dissected in Encrid’s heightened perception.

Smack!

The scimitar crushed through his skull and came out the other side.

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What was that?”

Dunbakel responded only after killing him.

‘She’s becoming more and more like Rem.’

Encrid was a little worried—but left her be.

She was finding her own path, and he wouldn’t criticize that.

As he stood watching with arms crossed, a few more mercenaries charged in—only for Teresa to intercept two of them.

“Where the hell did this monster come from?!”

One of them shouted—the woman who had been throwing knives.

Teresa blocked all of her daggers with her shield.

One dagger even veered midair like it had a spell on it, but Teresa twisted her body and caught it on her pauldron.

Defending with her armored body was Teresa’s specialty.

That, and crushing enemies with her thick-bladed sword while pressing them with her shield.

And so she did.

“Aaack!”

She struck the knife-throwing woman’s helmet with the flat of her sword. Through the shattered skull, brain matter and blood poured out.

A ruptured eyeball burst, spilling its clear fluid into the red mess.

“I am Teresa the Wanderer. Step up if you want to die.”

She declared. Several bodies visibly froze at her words.

No matter how seasoned, it was only natural to feel fear in the face of overwhelming violence.

The mercenaries were mowed down in short order.

Above, a battle should’ve started—but those lying in ambush watched their leaders be slaughtered.

Naturally, their morale plummeted.

“Hey, surrender. The territory’s short on hands these days. Prove yourself and serve well, and you’ll get your status back in two years.”

Torres tempted them. These were men who followed gold anyway. They planned to cleanse the wild beasts soon—might as well use these as meat shields.

They’d sort through and keep the decent ones.

It was a quick calculation.

“I—I surrender.”

A soldier lowered his bow.

Not a single arrow was fired by the troops on the ridge.

Seeing the mercenaries fall, the fat priest tried to flee.

He ran harder than he ever had in his life.

His body shouldn’t have been that fast.

A thick forearm blocked his way.

“Guh!”

Startled, the priest fell on his butt. The shock from his rear seemed to rattle his skull. He looked up from the dirt.

Before him stood a bear-like man.

‘This one…’

Zimmer had taken the blame, but the priest had his own informants in the territory.

They told him this was the real attacker.

But Zimmer’s threats had shut him up. He hadn’t dared to retaliate.

He resented that.

Later, those he considered his people encouraged him.

But it was all Krys’s scheme.

This priest, being absolute scum, had been easily manipulated through a few hired thugs feeding him scraps.

They lured him here for one reason: it was better to deal with a threat than leave it be.

His corruption didn’t matter—his title as a priest did.

The best thing would be to kill him and bury him.

That’s why they let him in.

If the best way to deal with a fool was to ignore him, the second best was to bury him.

Ever since Audin slapped him, Krys had envisioned this scene.

And really—wasn’t a greedy priest and the Black Blade Bandits the perfect pair?

Everything fell into place too easily. Their enemy was just that stupid.

“The Lord of Radiance said to reveal and reveal again. Have you done so?”

Audin asked. The fat priest answered hastily.

“O-of course I—I—I have!”

Terrified, his voice quivered and tongue twisted.

“You were supposed to reveal the world, not chase after Krona.”

Audin murmured.

The priest tried to protest, claiming he’d helped orphans and raised parentless children in the temple.

But Audin already knew from Krys.

The man had pursued Krona—and women.

He had turned orphan girls into his lovers.

Whack.

Audin raised his palm and struck down.

The blow landed on the crown of the priest’s head—his eyes and tongue shot forward.

Blood poured from every orifice, including his ears.

Audin believed in God—and hated those who used that belief to justify vile acts.

He had once turned away from those he should’ve punished due to lingering doubt.

But no longer.

Not with someone by his side who was overcoming their own limits.

He couldn’t turn away from truth, life, faith, or conviction anymore.

‘I will live, Father.’

He would not waste the life God allowed him.

He would strike down his enemies under His guidance.

Even those who betrayed his faith—he would punish them.

It would not be easy. If he failed, he’d die like a dog.

But he wouldn’t die like that.

Every day was a lesson.

Beyond doctrine, Audin had learned.

From Encrid. From Krys.

“By the light you have shown me, I too will shine.”

Audin prayed—not to God, but to his commander.

A prayer to a man.

Strange. But natural.

Encrid let out a sigh as he watched.

‘Fucking lunatics.’

He cursed internally.

Shouldn’t they have left someone for him to fight?

Why were they all so fired up?

Even Audin had rushed in to smash the priest’s head and was now staring at him.

Those eyes burned with passion. Like wildfire.

‘That bear’s gone battle-crazy too.’

Because of the distance, he misunderstood.

Rem, of course, had rampaged as usual.

Even Ragna, who normally just watched, suddenly stepped up and swung his sword.

That strike had been unlike any before.

A downward diagonal slash—like a hawk diving for prey.

Of course, faster than any hawk. But the image fit.

And just as powerfully as it had come down, it soared back up.

Where Ragna’s sword had passed, the Prepared Blade was now in three pieces on the ground.

Ragna stared at his sword and, uncharacteristically, let out a word of admiration.

“Hoo.”

More satisfying than expected.

The craftsmanship was truly dwarven.

Encrid had wanted to test his new sword style and swing his new weapon from the dwarf…

But—

“That was fast.”

Krys muttered with disappointment.

Rem had cleaved through five or six in an instant—and the fire on his axe hadn’t even ignited.

The gap between the groups was that wide.

Krys’s overly cautious preparations had been overkill.

Even if the archers had fired, the result wouldn’t have changed.

During the bloodshed, Jaxson also stepped up and took down a mercenary.

A pretty-faced young man.

He’d been a known name too.

“I’ll do anything—just let me live!”

Bleeding from the thigh, he begged after being caught by Jaxson.

“I’m keeping this one.”

Jaxson rarely asked for things. Encrid owed him plenty.

“Take him.”

No questions asked.

To be honest, no one else cared.

Dunbakel could feel how much she had improved.

And Teresa—

“When we get back, let’s have a match.”

She said to Encrid with fiery eyes. Her blood was boiling.

“Gladly.”

Encrid nodded. He looked around at everyone and thought:

‘Fucking lunatics.’ (T/N: Really now Encrid, coming from you. lol)

He resented them all for not leaving him anything.

The Black Blade’s first ambush had ended in anticlimactic failure.

Krys blamed them entirely.

‘They’re too damn kind.’

Of course, things would get less kind from here on.

If even one trap landed, someone might die.

Krys’s imagination spiraled into dark places—and he prepared accordingly.

What choice did he have? Following Encrid into battle made it inevitable.

At the same time, Krys made a decision.

‘No charity. No wasted effort.’

His goal remained the same: the noblewomen’s salon.

A short-term contract. Get Encrid into the salon just once.

Make him serve guests.

Just imagining it made Krys giddy.

The group cleaned up after the fight.

Torres and Zimmer came out to greet them again.

“Nice work.”

Encrid said. Torres nodded.

“Take care.”

The snow stopped. The group walked swiftly.

As they approached the Border Guard, the wild horse nudged Encrid’s shoulder.

“What?”

“Wanna look around?”

“Sure. Just come back when I call. Don’t wander into the territory on your own.”

“Go on. Have fun.”

Encrid muttered at the horse.

Watching silently, Rem mumbled,

“I still think that thing’s gonna turn into a person. Let’s have Esther ask it.”

No one answered.

They passed through the gates and headed straight into the barracks.

It was already evening.

Rather than camp another night, they chose to march all the way in.

Naturally, there was no resistance at the gates.

“You’ve returned!”

The gate soldier, who had trained under Encrid, opened the side door.

They were glad to see him—but not entirely.

Training was about to resume.

“I’ll see tomorrow if you’ve been slacking.”

Encrid was a man who did his duty.

He hadn’t forgotten his role as the training squad leader.

“…Yes, sir.”

The soldier would surely spread this delightful news.

His trembling cheeks said it all—it was hard to contain that joy.

“Aagh, I’m tired! Let’s rest already!”

Krys groaned as he entered the barracks.

Meanwhile, Teresa kept staring at Encrid with burning eyes.

“Wanna spar before washing up?”

Encrid asked. Teresa nodded.

They sparred. Teresa lost—but was satisfied.

A man who could go this far was worth following.

Every time she fought him, an unknown satisfaction welled up inside.

The next morning, Encrid gave a brief report to the battalion commander.

That night, Esther curled up in his arms and fell asleep.

Half-human, half-panther—she said nothing. Just slept.

* * *

“Let’s begin training.”

He started his day as training officer.

After lunch—

“Sir, that guy Gilpin is here to see you. Looked urgent.”

Encrid tilted his head. What would Gilpin want at this hour?

But upon hearing it, he recalled something from before.

Back when a certain Frok had shown up.

So he went to meet Gilpin—and there stood the Elf Commander beside him.

“Going somewhere, fiancé? Leaving without saying goodbye?”

The commander asked.