Chapter 350
The rainstorm raged for another full day and only stopped when I felt I couldn’t endure it any longer.
It was truly exhausting rain.
“Let’s rest before we move.”
Encrid said this shortly after the sky cleared. Water dripped from his clothes, and sunlight peeked faintly through the clouds.
Even that light was already tilting toward the west.
We were about to enter true darkness after hours of dim, stormy weather.
“Let’s do that.”
Rem agreed.
The Madman Company wasn’t the issue. Krang was holding up fine, but the horses were the problem.
We still had at least ten days of riding ahead of us, and the horses couldn’t be worn out already.
More importantly, if we didn’t take care of our soaked bodies, we’d get sick for sure.
If even one person started coughing, it’d be a problem.
If the horses got sick, it was the same headache.
We hadn’t slept properly during the storm and had simply kept marching.
“You’re going to use the time you bought here?”
The bodyguard muttered.
We bought time by killing everyone who came to kill us.
Shouldn’t we move now—get out of their expected search range?
Encrid nodded.
Yes, he was using that time ‘here’.
The bodyguard didn’t argue. What could he say? His only duty was to protect his lord.
Besides, Encrid wouldn’t listen to an argument here anyway.
‘He’ll handle it.’
Something like respect—some kind of trust—stirred in him.
“Rem, make a fire.”
“I feel like you always give me the annoying jobs. Don’t you think so?”
“Really? Should I send Ragna instead?”
If Ragna went to fetch dry wood, we probably wouldn’t see him again until next year.
“Never mind.”
Rem waved him off.
“Dunbakel, come with me.”
Encrid assigned a helper.
“……Fine.”
Dunbakel agreed reluctantly. Rem looked at her and said:
“Want to die?”
“I want to live. No one wants to die.”
Their bickering faded into the forest as they left the road.
Meanwhile, Encrid dug into the ground with Jaxson and Ragna.
The one-eyed man following them, drenched like the rest, joined in.
“You’re quite skilled.”
Krang said as he watched.
The one-eyed man kicked the dirt aside to shape a pit.
Encrid laid a flat stone on the ground.
The luggage wrapped in oiled cloth hadn’t gotten wet even in the storm, but there were no cooking tools inside—only salt and seasoned jerky.
Encrid took out the salt and jerky.
The flat stone would work well enough to grill the jerky.
Rem and Dunbakel returned with branches—miraculously not completely soaked.
Encrid split the half-wet branches for kindling and struck flint until sparks caught.
A flame rose. He blew on it gently, and the fire grew. He added more branches.
If it hadn’t been raining all day, he would’ve built a bigger fire. But this would do.
“Let’s dry our clothes.”
Except for Esther, Dunbakel was the only woman, but she could cover herself fully in fur when transformed.
Meaning she could undress freely, no matter who watched.
For a beastkin, modesty over nudity was absurd.
“It’s not about you. It bothers ‘other people’s’ eyes. Cover up.”
Encrid taught Dunbakel some manners.
“Is it a nuisance because I’m too attractive?”
Pfft.
The panther snorted.
Dunbakel shrugged it off.
Encrid found it amusing again.
He realized once more that Esther got along with everyone in the company. They genuinely treated her well.
Why?
There was a reason.
They didn’t ostracize her for being a mage.
Witches were viewed differently by the world, but not by them.
Especially Rem—who dealt with shamanism—felt a kinship with her. Their fields were different, but their paths felt similar.
So Rem was kind.
Ragna didn’t care whether she used magecraft or shamanism.
Audin—who once would’ve called her a heretic—no longer did.
He’d become more open-minded after seeing Encrid. He even called Esther “sister” now.
Teresa, who had met many mages in the cult, found Esther extremely sociable by comparison.
Dunbakel didn’t dislike her either; she was pretty and harmless.
She disliked that Esther sometimes monopolized the Captain, but aside from that, she liked her soft, long hair.
Esther even let Dunbakel touch her hair sometimes—without fear or anxiety.
Everyone treated her as a person. Just one of them.
Why would she dislike them?
‘Do I see people too kindly?’
Esther felt the same. But she considered this a good sign.
Mages existed for exploration.
For Esther, even this moment was an exploration.
How would this relationship affect her magic?
It was worth studying.
“Esther, dry your fur too.”
Esther obediently sat near the fire.
Everyone dried their clothes—even if only in underwear, their thin garments would dry quickly in the heat.
It was a journey expected to last no more than a month, but on day one, thirty assassins had attacked.
Not ideal.
“Want a drink?”
Rem searched for alcohol.
Jaxson was already taking out a bottle and sipping quietly.
Encrid eyed him—was he really not sharing?
Everyone seemed oddly carefree.
“No alcohol?”
Krang asked, swept up in the atmosphere.
The bodyguard shook his head. Alcohol? Here?
It was ridiculous they were even ‘thinking’ of drinking now.
Jaxson handed Encrid a bottle.
Encrid sipped and nodded.
“Apple wine.”
“I met a brewer on my last trip.”
“Excellent.”
Encrid praised it.
“You’re the only one drinking?”
Rem held out his hand boldly. Jaxson, seated, swung his dagger. Rem curled his hand away.
“What are you doing?”
“Didn’t you stick out your wrist for me to slice it?”
“Captain, can I kill this stray cat?”
Encrid took another sip and watched them bicker.
Then he capped the bottle and tossed it to Rem.
Rem caught it.
Jaxson didn’t complain. That ended the argument. They turned away from each other to cool off.
Rem didn’t grumble further.
“Hey, let’s eat together.”
He went to Dunbakel instead.
She was grilling jerky on the stone.
“Mmm, good.”
The seasoning kept the jerky soft. Dunbakel thought it was the best camping food so far.
Encrid felt similarly.
Krang took a piece and nodded deeply.
If he became king, he’d reward whoever made this jerky.
Ragna, seeing the storm, recalled old memories.
There had been a storm like this once.
Raindrops so heavy he couldn’t see ahead.
Rain hitting his skin like blows.
Thinking of those days, Ragna turned to face his homeland.
North—toward his family and kin.
Was it longing? Regret? Hatred?
Looking that way made him feel like he sensed them.
“What are you doing?”
Encrid asked, noticing his mood.
“I’m looking north.”
Toward his home.
“That’s south.”
Ragna quietly turned.
His memories ended. Hunger returned—he’d marched through rain and wind.
Time to eat.
“Don’t even go to the bathroom alone, seriously.”
Rem muttered.
Ragna ignored him completely.
When night deepened, it was time for watch rotations.
“Jaxson, first watch.”
He set the order roughly—Jaxson, the bodyguard, Rem, Encrid, then Ragna.
Even if the enemy used tricks or magic, it would be fine.
Esther’s eyes shone faintly… until—
Grrr.
The panther had fallen asleep beside Encrid.
He held her in his arms. If anything happened, she’d wake instantly.
“A mage who turns into a panther…”
The bodyguard still flinched whenever he saw Esther.
He had been shocked when she transformed—and then shocked again when he saw her human form.
Still, he stayed true to his principles.
‘Not bad.’
For someone beside Krang, she was more than decent.
He seemed worried about resting here, but didn’t object.
Had he suddenly gained overflowing trust in Encrid?
Maybe. Seeing him fight once was enough, but it was more than that—he respected him.
Krang respected him. Therefore, the bodyguard did too.
He was not a bad man at all.
His wandering thoughts were cut off by Krang’s question.
“How about becoming a knight?”
“It’s fun.”
“Fun?”
He asked if Encrid was doing well. The reply was ‘fun’. Encrid nodded.
He hung his clothes on a slanted branch to dry.
Jaxson poked the fire. Damp branches crackled and spit sparks that scattered into the night.
The comfort of rising heat, the scent of damp clothes drying—
Krang and Encrid sat facing each other across the flames.
The firelight turned Krang’s eyes red.
Encrid looked into those eyes. Krang looked back.
Then Krang spoke.
“What’s your reason for helping me?”
He had said they were friends and shared his dream. But he never asked Encrid for help.
Krang asked sincerely. His voice carried a strange force.
It felt like language imbued with pressure—a Dragonkin trait?
Was there Dragonkin blood in him?
The pressure urged an answer.
‘Interesting.’
Encrid felt something like the sensation of pressure—but weaker. No need to activate the Will of Rejection.
Because this wasn’t actual Will.
And more importantly, Encrid wasn’t pushed back at all.
“They said you’re too good a man to die here.”
So he answered calmly.
“I won’t die even without your help.”
Krang said confidently.
Bold words—but hard to deny.
He was the type to survive even in hopeless situations.
Encrid had considered his own reasoning—before helping Krang, after deciding to help him, after speaking to Krys.
‘Why help?’
Because he wanted to fight? Because assassins would flock to him?
Fighting spirit was part of him, yes.
But that wasn’t all.
There was something deeper—something that pushed him forward.
He wanted to become a knight.
A knight protects.
Then what should he protect?
Someone behind him.
Who would he put behind him?
Encrid didn’t serve Krang. He’d made no vow.
But—
He knew Krang wasn’t someone unworthy of protection.
“Whether you’re worth protecting.”
Encrid didn’t bow to Krang’s pressure.
He cut through it easily.
“Because I don’t know yet.”
He continued:
He helped because he didn’t know yet. He offered his hand because he didn’t know.
Would anything change by protecting him once?
He didn’t know. He’d have to see.
That was his entire reason. He was helping to ‘find out’.
Krang smiled again through the fire. Not fierce—deep.
Encrid remained indifferent.
“A knight choosing a king.”
Neither of them were knights, nor kings.
“Being chosen by someone like that… that must be the beginning of my royal road.”
The bodyguard frowned at Encrid’s words, then straightened.
Hearing his lord speak like that brought no discomfort.
He was speaking earnestly.
He was talking about the beginning of the royal path.
If that beginning was the man before him—
Then he would simply watch.
His choice had already been made.
“And I also want to do things Count Molsen would hate.”
Encrid mentioned his petty revenge. He hadn’t forgotten how Molsen withheld reinforcements and played tricks.
“That Count Molsen?”
“Yeah. He’s like a dog’s genitals.”
Encrid cursed elegantly. A skill of its own.
Krang burst into laughter.
“A dog’s genitals.”
Fitting.
Their late-night conversation was a small farce.
Rem, Ragna, Jaxson, and Dunbakel watched from the side and found it amusing.
The next day, Krang’s bodyguard group set off again—and soon after, they encountered monsters.
Kaaak!
A mixed monster pack came into view, starting with a Human-faced Dog group.