Chapter 330
‘This bastard’s crazy.’
Kin saw it instantly—
the madness hidden behind Encrid’s calm eyes.
His looks and skill aside, there was something ‘wrong’ with him.
She understood the man’s essence in a flash.
Years of handling external affairs for the Vaisar family had sharpened her instinct for reading people—
and right now, that instinct screamed at her.
‘A lunatic!’
What would he do if the Count accused him of insulting a noble?
Or worse—if the Count went home offended and raised an army over it?
Even the capital considered Count Molsenn a troublesome figure.
It was said he had several men under him with power on par with Junior Knights.
No one even knew his full military strength.
It was a wonder he’d stayed quiet this long.
Kin’s throat was too dry to swallow as she stared at the Count’s lips.
Encrid, meanwhile, looked utterly composed.
‘What nerve…’
A man who spoke of pity for those slain by monsters and beasts—yet hadn’t sent reinforcements when they were needed?
A man who had even abandoned his own son?
Was Edin Molsenn really that man’s child?
If he was, why had his name never been mentioned?
When Edin heard that his father was coming, he’d actually asked to be deployed to Green Pearl.
That alone was bizarre.
‘He used me as an excuse to stay here.’
He’d pretended to want sparring sessions, then quietly stopped showing up—
until he eventually dropped all pretense and fled outright.
Even Krys had mentioned it on the way here:
“He’s a frightening man. You can tell just by looking at him.
But the way he cast out his own son? That’s even scarier.”
Encrid trusted his instincts.
And those instincts told him—
a winged chimera sat before him, one that had swallowed dozens of serpents.
Everything about the Count was a façade.
The mask gleamed, but he could see the corruption underneath.
“Not buying it, are you?”
The Count’s tone shifted immediately.
He didn’t rage.
Instead, he smirked like some street merchant, and the tense air loosened.
“It doesn’t work on me,” Encrid replied.
“I heard you fought valiantly to save a child,” said the Count.
“They say if not for you, the casualties would’ve been far worse. And that you later crossed the battlefield at the risk of your life.”
Not wrong—but not entirely right either.
Encrid saw no point in correcting him.
“Yes, that’s what they say.”
“You talk like it happened to someone else.”
“I haven’t recovered from the fatigue of battle. Haven’t had time to think.”
That was nonsense, of course.
He’d locked himself away for two days, lost in his own thoughts—and now the nobles, two of them high-ranking at that, had waited on him.
Hardly the act of a weary man.
“Have you seen my bodyguard?”
“I have.”
“What do you think would happen if you fought him?”
Encrid thought about it for a moment.
Truthfully, the urge to test himself flared up the instant he’d laid eyes on the man.
But not now.
He couldn’t.
If he fought right now, he might kill the man by accident.
Unless his opponent was vastly stronger—or far weaker—he couldn’t risk it.
His control wasn’t stable yet.
“I don’t know.”
“Not much fun, are you?”
“Would it be fun if I promised victory instead?”
“That would make it enjoyable, yes.”
Behind the Count stood the same guard from before.
He was listening, of course.
The Count was provoking him on purpose.
The guard’s gaze was fierce—as if to say, ‘If you move, I’ll crush you.’
Encrid ignored it completely.
Normally, he’d have taken that challenge head-on.
But not today.
Anyone who knew him would’ve wondered if he was running a fever.
“Then I’ll be the boring one.”
“I see. Well, it’ll be troublesome for you once I leave. Will you be all right?”
“I’ll manage.”
The Count’s grin widened.
“Needless worry, then. Hahaha!”
He laughed heartily, standing from his seat.
His guard lowered his aura immediately, stepping aside for his master.
To Encrid, it looked no different from a loyal hound making way for its owner.
Did it get its treats on time, he wondered? Its daily walk? Who knew.
“My offer stands. You’re welcome anytime—if it’s not too late by then.”
“Yes.”
“And look after my son and daughter, will you? Seems they’re eager to leave my shadow.”
The Count was nothing if not meticulous.
If he wanted Edin Molsenn dragged home, he’d do it without hesitation.
And he’d even mentioned his cross-dressing daughter as if it were nothing.
Of course, Encrid already knew.
Anyone observant would.
Certainly everyone under his command did.
“Safe travels. I won’t be far.”
Two days of waiting, only to hear ‘I won’t be far.’
At the Count’s request, Lord Graham came to see him off personally.
“Your Excellency,” said Graham.
“That company commander of yours,” said the Count,
“he’s quite insolent. How about we hang him?”
Graham broke into a cold sweat.
“If we hang Independent Company Captain Encrid, I’ll be stoned to death by the citizens myself.”
A city-made hero—that’s what Encrid had become.
The Count chuckled once more.
“Just a joke.”
Was it, though?
Encrid watched the Count leave.
The doors of the reception hall closed behind him.
The guards outside stood frozen—
faces blank, ears deaf.
Even a single word could have cost them their lives.
“Are you insane?”
Finally, Kin spoke.
She’d been holding her breath through the entire exchange.
“I get that a lot,” said Encrid calmly.
“No, I mean—how could you…”
She trailed off, too shocked to finish.
Encrid’s eyes wandered to the refreshments on the table.
He popped a cookie into his mouth.
He was starving.
After all, he hadn’t eaten in two days.
As he chewed, he asked casually,
“Did you agree to hand the Border Guards over to the Count?”
“That’s absurd,” Kin said sharply.
She was here precisely to prevent that from happening—to make sure neither Encrid nor the Lord was swayed.
Her presence was a warning from the Marquis himself.
“The Count wouldn’t have cared whether your answer was polite or not. He’s the kind of man who fires a loaded crossbow just because he can.”
And if things went wrong, that crossbow might well be aimed at the capital.
Eliminating him outright wasn’t an option, either—his power was too great, and the central authority too fractured.
At this rate, the kingdom could splinter at any moment.
Kin shook off the thought and looked again at the madman before her.
He knew the difference between knowing and doing—
and yet, he acted anyway.
There was no doubt in her mind.
He wasn’t normal.
“You’ve got guts,” she said.
“That your official assessment?” he replied.
“Will you stay and help handle the mess he’s left behind?”
He went straight to the point again.
Kin shook her head.
“Now that the Count’s left, I can’t stay. It’ll only cause more problems.”
If rumors spread that the Vaisar Marquisate was eyeing the Border Guards, it could damage their standing in the capital.
Markus had gone there precisely to secure that position.
He couldn’t risk accusations of treason.
Which made the scheme the Black Blade leader had pulled back then all the more ingenious—the kind of cunning that could rival Krys himself.
“Then,” Encrid said.
“You want me to leave immediately?”
Kin gawked at him.
Did he not realize she’d waited two whole days?
And not one person—man or woman—had ever met her without stealing a glance,
or two, or three.
She was ‘Kin Vaisar’—renowned even in the capital as one of its great beauties.
Every time she left on an assignment, hearts broke in her wake.
And yet this man—this insane bastard—barely even looked at her.
“Do you have business elsewhere?
Didn’t you say you were busy?” he asked.
He wasn’t wrong.
Kin stood. It was time to leave anyway.
Staying any longer would only make things worse.
Still, one more day wouldn’t have hurt…
Her bodyguard leaned in and whispered,
“He’s… unusual.”
Her eyes, imbued with enchantments, glowed faintly.
They were as close as sisters.
“He’s a lunatic,” Kin muttered, stepping forward.
So this was how the “Enchanting Captain” left his first impression—
in madness.
And yet, somehow, it worked.
She wasn’t sure what kind of man he was, but he had definitely caught her interest.
‘Unusual.’
“Then I’ll be going,” Encrid said again.
Was he telling her to leave already?
Kin felt a sting of irritation but let it slide.
He offered a brief farewell, nothing more.
As she stepped outside, she caught sight of the others lingering nearby—petty nobles, merchants who had bought their titles, even a few minor hereditary lords.
Among them were noblewomen, too—each hoping for a glimpse of Encrid.
A gathering of scavengers.
‘Jackals of the political field.’
They might not be dangerous,
but dealing with them would be exhausting.
Kin decided not to worry.
If this man could talk circles around Count Molsenn,
he didn’t need her protection.
She looked back three times as she left the city.
And then, suddenly, she cursed.
“Shit.”
Her bodyguard turned, halfway up the carriage step.
“Kin?”
“That bastard didn’t even ask my name.”
To be ignored—her, of all people!
Even her family’s prestige and her famed beauty had been dismissed outright.
And strangely, she didn’t hate it.
‘A first,’ she thought.
A first for a man that insane.
‘We’ll meet again.’
Her bodyguard sighed quietly.
That obsessive streak of hers was about to flare again.
—
Many nobles and merchants sought to claim Encrid.
“I can’t handle them all,” said Graham, raising his hands.
Encrid nodded and stepped forward.
“If you come to my lands, I’ll grant you my daughter’s hand—”
The first fool to try practically offered his own child for trade.
Encrid brought Esther along.
“Should I stay in human form?” she asked.
“It’s fine.”
Her appearance turned heads everywhere she went—two-legged or not.
Kin would’ve understood instantly why Encrid ignored beauty altogether.
“So, uh…”
The noble’s mouth snapped shut in seconds.
And then—
“My lady, may I ask your name?”
Someone else tried flirting with Esther instead.
Encrid had to stop her before she killed him on the spot.
After that, he started bringing Sinar instead.
At least the Elf Commander wouldn’t resort to murder—
though she came with her own issue.
“His fiancée,” people began to whisper.
Soon, rumors spread:
the Enchanting Captain was engaged to an elf and a witch.
Encrid didn’t bother correcting them.
If it kept other nobles from offering their daughters or honeyed schemes, all the better.
“Why not take me instead?”
“I’ve got time, too,” said Dunbakel and Teresa, half-joking.
They were both beautiful, sure—but taking Teresa would’ve sparked rumors of revenge, and Dunbakel’s temper was worse than Esther’s.
Better to let strange rumors run their course.
Whenever a merchant came to talk Krongs, he brought Krys.
“If you join my trading company, I’ll make you richer than you can imagine!”
“How much?”
“…Pardon?”
“How much are we talking?”
“Er, well—”
“Under a hundred gold, don’t bother. And no one-time deals. Monthly contracts, with profit shares. Now, what’s your company called?”
No merchant had ever been asked to sell ‘his own shares’ before.
“Impossible!”
“The door’s that way.”
“You insolent—!”
“Problem?”
And that was that.
Behind them, Border Guard soldiers appeared—veterans who’d survived the war with Azpen.
The merchants left, seething but silent.
Others tried invoking authority instead.
Encrid wanted to send Rem to crack their skulls,but he let it go.
“If you join my order, you’ll rise in honor! I could even recommend you for knighthood! And you dare refuse me?”
Encrid stayed polite.
“My sword has no eyes.”
And with one swift motion, he sliced a few strands of hair from the noble’s head.
“A mosquito.”
A mosquito? In midwinter?
The noble froze.
He saw it now—the look of a man who would bury him alive if provoked.
“Can you get away with this?” Graham whispered.
“If that man really has such a great army and declares war—”
“Then we say thank you,” Krys answered dryly.
The Border Guards now held the strongest force in the region—
they just lacked Krongs.
All they needed was funding for expansion, and victory would handle the rest.
So Krys kept cutting down offers.
Sinar and Esther helped.
Encrid himself was constantly summoned.
After two weeks of this, his body finally healed.
His senses returned.
Now, at last, he could fight without killing by accident.
“Phew.”
He exhaled in satisfaction.
If he’d fought the Count’s bodyguard back then, he would’ve killed him—or worse.
Everything he’d learned until now had begun to settle into place.
That fortnight hadn’t been wasted after all.
It had honed him.
And with his recovery came a familiar urge—to draw his sword freely once again.
For once, no nobles or merchants came knocking.
Encrid returned to his barracks.
He hadn’t been there much lately.
The air inside was thick—
heavy with tension and silence.
Something dangerous lurked within,
but it felt familiar.
Just like the first time he’d entered the Mad Company’s quarters.