Chapter 354
“Halt.”
As they reached the castle walls, a Border Guard stepped forward and blocked the path with his spear.
Encrid instinctively scanned the situation—the guard’s stance, his footing, the spacing, the men behind him.
Two were directly blocking the way. Others waited beyond.
The two in front were mediocre. Not even worth discussing.
‘Recruits.’
That was what Encrid and the Madman Company called soldiers who had seen battle but had never been properly trained.
That was the level of most standing troops in the Border Guard.
Encrid’s gaze shifted to the soldier standing behind them—a senior officer, judging by his demeanor.
The officer glared back.
His eyes seemed to say, Who do you think you are to look at me like that?
‘Amateur.’
In a real fight, he wouldn’t even be able to block a basic sword draw.
There were more than twenty guards around the gate.
Four had come to face them: the two blocking the road, the senior officer behind, and a middle-aged man wearing a feathered hat instead of a helmet. His long, thin sword and relaxed posture were different from the others.
Could I beat him?
Encrid quietly gauged his skill.
“You’re staring too obviously.”
Rem muttered. A warning.
Right then, the feathered hat spoke up.
“Look at this—you were sizing me up, weren’t you?”
The man tilted his head, voice sharp.
He was quick. His perception was higher than expected.
Encrid didn’t bother denying it. He nodded.
“…You admit it?”
The feathered hat blinked, then raised his voice.
“How many are there in total?”
He threw the question to his men.
The guard in front counted.
“Seven plus… a beastkin? And what’s with that horse’s eyes? Oh—and is that a panther?”
The guard examined them one by one. It was a bizarre group.
Especially the panther—both an animal and a beast. Dangerous if it caused trouble.
The guard lowered his spear slightly, wary.
Or maybe he was just scared.
Encrid stayed silent.
Esther was a panther—but in the Border Guard, no one would object.
Why? Because she was a mage at his side.
People viewed mages as strange, mysterious beings.
Some might think Esther was a pet. That was fine.
No one in the Border Guard would interfere with whatever Encrid did.
But this was the capital.
Getting inside would be the real issue.
Should they turn back?
His task was to escort Krang to the capital—not guarantee entry.
“It’s alright.”
While Encrid was thinking, Krang placed a hand on his shoulder.
“If you worry about everything, nothing gets done. A sage once told me that. I’d forgotten it.”
“Huh?”
Encrid looked at him, wondering why he was saying such things now—but Krang’s eyes shone.
“You’re going to be a knight, right?”
Encrid nodded without hesitation.
“Of course.”
“I’ll ask one more time. Why are you beside me?”
Krang’s voice was quiet, meant only for him.
Meanwhile, the guards’ voices grew harsher.
“No animals allowed without leashes. Do you have entry permits?”
“Rare to see troublemakers walking right up to the gate. Are you mercenaries?”
The feathered hat joined in.
Krang had found something hidden within Encrid’s earlier words—a loophole.
If Encrid didn’t even know his own worth, then his earlier vow to protect could only be empty.
Krang now saw clearly—Encrid’s earlier statement had been an excuse. A justification. Something he said because something bothered him.
“Why make that excuse?”
Encrid was impressed.
This man’s insight was sharp—sharp enough to make Krys, who worshiped Krong, look blind.
To call it an excuse meant Krang had already seen through him.
Encrid was Border Guard. He never forgot that. A mindless fool who didn’t consider consequences would’ve died long ago.
He knew his position. He knew what could happen if he made a single wrong move.
If Count Molsen threw a tantrum right away—
“Are you worried about that?”
A snide comment from Big Eyes came to mind. He was a sly bastard.
“Make excuses. Make justifications. Keep insisting.”
It was a good strategy.
Were Krang’s life and identity worth the risk?
He didn’t know.
If he didn’t know, he would protect him for now.
The assassins attacked him—so he retaliated. That was all. Yes. He didn’t know anything.
That was his stance.
But Krang saw straight through it.
Tell me without excuses.
That was the meaning behind his question.
“If it’s you.”
Encrid answered honestly.
If a knight protects, a king rules.
Encrid wasn’t burning with loyalty to Naurilia. He wasn’t bound by patriotism.
But he wasn’t indifferent either.
He loved his birthplace—a small town. He couldn’t forget the people who fed him when he was an orphan left to starve.
He remembered the fruit vendor trimming a rotten apple.
– “I wish there were no such things as war.”
He remembered the old waitress roasting potatoes.
– “How nice it’d be if people just lived with a little common sense.”
He remembered the elderly woman who had survived unbearable hardship.
– “If there hadn’t been a war… I would have just married quietly and cooked stew for my family.”
He remembered her stew warming him.
He remembered the mercenary with a missing leg—
– “You’re a genius. Survive.”
People full of bluster but softhearted toward hungry children.
Encrid had lived a harsh childhood, but he didn’t hate it.
He didn’t hate this country.
He didn’t know politics, didn’t care for nobles or royalty.
But—
“Because I think you’ll do well.”
If Krang became king—something would change.
It was intuition, prediction. Not prophecy. A gamble.
“Choose me. Encrid. Become a knight and stand by my side.”
Krang said it with a force that felt like [Will] pressing against him.
But Encrid didn’t answer.
Krang spoke first.
“No answer needed.”
He lifted his head.
He had found peace in the midst of assassins—an insight born from that peace.
‘If your sword is at your waist, mine is in my mouth.’
His moment had come.
“Matthew.”
Krang called.
The escort stepped forward.
The guard glared.
“Who are you?”
Matthew answered loudly.
“In the name of the one and only Queen of this land, I declare the arrival of the sole heir to the royal bloodline.”
The guard blinked as if he hadn’t heard properly. The senior officer reacted first.
“What did you just say?”
He grabbed his subordinate’s shoulder to stop him from escalating.
“It’s exactly as he said.”
Matthew’s voice carried through the noisy gate.
“What did he say?”
“The heir to the royal family?”
“The Queen had a child?”
Everyone knew Naurilia’s politics were a tangled mess.
The Queen was young, but her husband was incapable of having children.
“Insolent.”
Matthew declared loudly.
“My master is a descendant of the Naurilia royal family—Crianath Randeus Nauril.”
Royal names were traditionally long, taking letters from predecessors.
Krang’s name had been short only because he was hidden all his life. He only learned his true name later.
So—
“Call me Krang.”
Krang whispered through ventriloquism. Encrid blinked at the skill.
“That’s my real name anyway.”
He’d been called that since childhood.
Encrid realized he had misjudged. He thought it was an alias. But it was his original name—taken from the initials of Crianath and Randeus.
“You stand before royal blood!”
Matthew shouted.
“…This is the first I’ve heard of a prince. Shouldn’t you prove it?”
The feathered-hat captain finally stepped forward.
Krang pulled out a pendant—a half piece.
It bore the crest of the royal family: three swords and a Sun Beast with a fiery mane.
The half he carried bore the Sun Beast’s head.
“I heard my sister has the other half.”
Only the Queen could verify him.
But should the guard let them in?
The captain hesitated.
Then—
“I’ll vouch for him.”
A voice came from behind.
When had he arrived?
“In the name of Markus Vaisar, I guarantee this man is the rightful heir.”
The captain understood instantly.
This was no longer his decision.
“Escort them inside.”
He had no choice. The Centerpole family’s word could not be overturned.
From here on, any consequences belonged to the nobles and politicians inside the palace—not him.
His job was to deal with metal, not with tongues.
He thought to hold the rest of the group back—
But he was cut off.
“They’re my people. Are you stopping them too?”
Krang smiled brightly.
I’m in deep trouble, the captain thought.
Letting them pass could get him executed later.
Stopping them could also get him executed.
No one would dare impersonate royalty at the capital gates. That alone meant this man was likely real.
Krang spoke again—each word striking the captain like a hammer.
“Say I insisted. Say I forced my way. Say it was all my doing.”
Markus nodded.
Throb.
The captain was forty. His heart throbbed like a boy’s.
Who is this man?
Markus stepped in quietly.
“I’ll ensure no harm comes to you.”
The captain nodded, eyes fixed on Krang.
A strange, singular man.
Encrid and the group simply observed.
“Royal backing is amazing,” Rem muttered.
And just like that, no one stopped them.
Despite the mismatched-eyed horse.
Despite the panther.
The Royal Palace contacted by the gate immediately sent escorts.
The Royal Guard.
Full plate armor. Long spears. Short swords at the hip. Kite shields on their backs. Helmets painted gold.
Their expressionless eyes behind visors were intimidating.
Only one man wore a dark gray helmet.
“We will escort you to the Royal Palace.”
He said.
Rem whispered,
“Can’t you see them sweating? Must be boiling in that armor.”
Jaxson said nothing, pleased—they finally had a legitimate pretext to enter the palace.
Dunbakel whispered nervously.
“Are we really following them?”
“If you want to go back, go.”
Encrid said. Dunbakel shook her head vigorously.
“If the captain stays, I stay.”
“Suit yourself.”
Encrid was curious.
He wanted to see what Krang would do now.
This wasn’t a battlefield of steel—but Krang walked forward like a general who could command a thousand men.
Something stirred inside Encrid. A quiet heat.
Do you want to improve your skills?
Rem’s earlier words echoed in him.
As he remembered them, Encrid looked at Krang’s back.