Chapter 362
Five steps away from Krang, a whip-wielding guard stood on high alert, sweeping his gaze across the surroundings.
Besides him, Krang had brought a bald warrior who looked like he could handle himself.
He stood behind Krang with his back turned, like a statue.
A well-trained body—obvious at a glance.
Not some mediocre fighter.
Encrid looked at the two of them and thought of Andrew.
Andrew was probably wearing a grim face inside the party hall right now.
He’d once said that when he attended parties, people didn’t even treat him like a ghoul.
If he were a ghoul, they would at least acknowledge him and frown.
But they didn’t even bother.
A low-ranking noble, a mere baron, and a cripple who had backed the wrong horse—who would care?
Even the butler at the entrance had ignored him.
“Baron Andrew Gardner? Did you come here?”
The butler didn’t even raise his voice. Andrew sighed inwardly, but kept his face steady.
“Why? Did I come to a place I shouldn’t have?”
“Your invitation?”
“It seems you were too busy and omitted it.”
“……You may enter.”
The butler let Andrew in with a deeply displeased look.
Encrid, acting as his guard, couldn’t enter.
No—he had entered a few times. Thanks to that, he’d become known and started drawing attention.
After that, the host forbade guards from entering.
Encrid wasn’t interested in the inside of the party hall in the first place.
He had only come to see Krang—and to read the mood around him.
Honestly, he had hoped that another warning-obsessed group would show themselves while he wandered at night, but nothing happened.
In the end, he met Krang and asked.
“A knight.”
Krang paused, as if considering the shape of the answer.
His pupils didn’t waver, and he showed no tension.
Still, he chose his words carefully before he continued.
“Why doesn’t Count Molsen get punished for calling himself the king of the frontier? That was the first question I had.”
Krang had asked himself that question long ago—and already found the answer.
“You know the great southern power, Liechtenstein, right?”
His tone was casual, like he was introducing a famous bar in the marketplace.
It was evening, but it wasn’t cold anymore. Talking outside was pleasant.
An old bench. The mansion lights behind them, where the party was in full swing.
Fireflies—like scattered sparks—drifted here and there.
The setting didn’t match the topic, but Krang sounded as cheerful as ever, making it feel like a leisurely night walk despite the content.
“It’s been seven years since we fought the Kingdom of Liechtenstein, and we haven’t been easily pushed back, right?”
Encrid had never heard otherwise.
“That’s right.”
“Then why is that?”
“Because the southern territories fight well?”
“Then why were they breached so easily the moment the monster surge happened?”
“Then?”
“Sir Cyprus and another knight are holding them back.”
Liechtenstein’s military power was objectively superior to Naurilia.
They had their own circumstances, so a complete victory was difficult.
But even so, holding like this shouldn’t have been possible—yet it was. They endured. They resisted the invasion.
“I heard the news, went there, and saw it myself. The two knights are doing something miraculous. If they leave, the southern front could be pushed back as early as tomorrow.”
Krang spoke while prying a stone half-buried by the bench with his toe.
He dislodged it, then kicked it lightly.
“The two knights are tied down. Are they the only ones tied down?”
“The Royal Guard must be tied down, too.”
Encrid wasn’t a fool.
What stops a front from collapsing?
You deploy troops. You reinforce.
The kingdom had done exactly that.
The two knights guarded the southern border. If even one of them turned away, the region would already have been half-destroyed under Liechtenstein’s pressure.
Krang knew how broken this country was.
Now Encrid did too.
“What about the third knight?”
Naurilia had three knights—at least, three that were known.
“The third knight is confronting a colony of monsters.”
This was the first time Encrid had heard it. It should have been top secret, but Krang spoke as casually as ever.
“A troublesome monster showed up and formed a colony. And the eastern mercenary king is eyeing the area, so some of the Royal Guard have to be dispatched there. And those aren’t the only threats.”
Even during the full-scale war with Azpen, a knight had barely managed to tear himself away to participate.
And even then, the goal hadn’t been to grind Azpen down.
It had been to strike quickly and withdraw.
Why?
‘Because he can’t be gone for long.’
Because a knight’s absence became a threat everywhere else.
Azpen had been urgent enough that the knight had no choice—but if it hadn’t been, the knight wouldn’t have appeared at all.
Everything clicked.
The absence of the knights.
The fact that only part of the Royal Guard remained in the Royal Palace.
And the fact that it created the perfect opening for anyone with ambition, anyone dreaming of treason.
‘The Royal Guard were also split into factions.’
The guards at the gates, the guard captains—same story.
Everyone had to pick a side to survive.
Reality and fact twisted together into a single, coherent shape.
Why did everything fit so perfectly?
Why was the stage so perfectly set for treason—so perfectly prepared for the ones who wanted to act?
Encrid’s intuition strengthened his judgment.
Even without fighting, his focus rose on its own, and his senses sharpened.
His mind spun, and one conclusion surfaced.
What did Krang gain from all this?
Why did he come to the Royal Palace and stir trouble?
Since he arrived, the noble group had been acting as if their feet were on fire.
Because the heir was moving immediately, pressing the King to hand over the throne.
He had the power to do it. Everyone knew Marcus of Center Pole stood behind him.
Impatience led to action, and the noble group did exactly that.
Look closely, and the nobles were revealing themselves—broadcasting which side they belonged to.
Because if they didn’t choose a side, they’d be pushed out.
They had to declare themselves.
“Is that right?”
There was no need to ask at length. Encrid asked, and Krang’s smile widened.
It looked almost innocent.
He didn’t seem like someone capable of such calculations.
To some, that smile would have been terrifying.
“I was just about to tell you.”
He had no intention of hiding it.
No—he was telling Encrid to notice.
Krang brushed the dust from his knees and stood.
As he rose, he kicked the stone again. It flew with a dull thud, then rolled into a place the light couldn’t reach.
“I’m going to gather what’s unnecessary in one place and get rid of it. That’s why. We need a civil war.”
If you gather garbage, you either burn it or bury it. Civil war would be that act.
That was how it had been arranged.
Of course, the premise was that those noble factions had to be quietly driven out of the Royal Palace first.
Krang hadn’t come to prevent civil war.
He had come to accelerate it.
No—he intended to achieve his goals perfectly in the process.
In other words, by laying the groundwork and dividing sides without making it obvious.
He would separate what could be said from what could not be said.
And the foundation for that separation would be force.
‘He deliberately emptied the Royal Palace of troops to filter out those who would betray or double-cross.’
That was Encrid’s conclusion.
Encrid stood as well. It was time to go.
He saw Andrew stumbling out of the mansion with a face drained by exhaustion.
Seeing that, Encrid asked the other thing he’d come for.
“Do you know who the leader of the Black Sword is?”
The leader of that bandit group was in the Royal Palace, and he belonged to the Black Lily.
That was all Jaxson had found so far.
But the leader was hiding too well to pin down.
In the meantime, a request had come—someone presumed to be from the assassination alliance.
“……It’s a coincidence, but we have the same goal. That friend is my biggest headache right now. I’ll organize and send you what you need, so think about it. I’m trying to find him too.”
Encrid nodded.
He’d gotten what he wanted from chasing Krang through the party—answers, and a promise of help.
And somewhere along the way, he’d decided where he stood.
“Oh, Encrid. You don’t have any intention of becoming my knight, do you?”
Krang asked suddenly as he turned to leave.
“What?”
“I don’t think you’d be satisfied being someone’s knight. Well, that’s all.”
He wore that bright smile again, then turned and left—acting as if he didn’t care what the answer was.
Encrid didn’t think deeply about it either.
He was focused on becoming a knight.
He hadn’t once considered becoming someone’s knight.
It wasn’t important right now.
What mattered was that Krang was drawing lines—friend and foe.
So he laid the groundwork.
With actions, he spoke to every noble.
He showed his intent.
Only a handful would see what he was really doing.
But even if they did, they couldn’t ignore it.
Krang’s message to the nobles was simple.
There are no knights and no Royal Guard, so go wild in the Royal Palace.
The effect was immediate.
Everyone began building private soldiers, dreaming of overturning the royal family, plotting.
Count Molsen openly claimed the title of king of the frontier.
Inside the Royal Palace, more and more people displayed their ambitions without even trying to hide them.
‘I hope they don’t die.’
The thought surfaced for a moment.
Krang was the most dangerous piece on a board like this.
An heir with a rightful claim to the throne was a thorn in everyone’s side.
To look at the future and assume he would naturally become King—here, in this mess—that alone showed the difference in caliber.
Encrid brushed the brief worry aside.
If Krang was smart enough to turn the board this way, he would have already thought about protecting his own life.
In the first place, this was a game built on force.
Encrid was curious.
What kind of force was Krang hiding?
He wanted to see it.
But it didn’t seem like Krang would show it yet.
“Can you please stop coming to parties? It’s really hard for me.”
Andrew, now beside him, complained.
“Training is better, right?”
Andrew’s mouth snapped shut.
If he had to choose between a party and training—
“I’ll do the training.”
He said it quickly, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Okay. Then we’ll do that.”
Either way, their party-chasing was over for now.
Encrid had brought Jaxson and watched the surroundings, but no one tried anything.
It would stay quiet until the spark Krang had thrown finally exploded.
In the meantime, he would catch the leader of the Black Sword, watch what Krang did next, and add a word where it mattered.
That would be enough.
Then maybe an unexpected opponent would appear.
Would those ambition-filled factions really rush in without thinking?
A speech not backed by force had no power.
Especially inside the Royal Palace now, where force had become law.
Was that security officer truly such a threat?
“Let’s go. Let’s go train.”
Andrew said through clenched teeth, and Encrid moved with him.
They returned to the mansion like that.
And the next morning, Encrid had to welcome a guest.
“I’ve heard the rumors. You really came to the capital.”
Kin Vaisar—said to be the most beautiful woman in the capital.
Encrid was sweating as he swung an axe spear.
Rem had said that experiencing various weapons was as important as facing them.
It really was helpful.
He was doing something stupid—gripping the end of the axe spear’s handle with one hand and whipping it around—so sweat poured down him.
And he welcomed the guest in that state.
“Your attitude toward welcoming guests is still the same.”
“I don’t think you came alone.”
Encrid set the axe spear down, its end pointed to the ground, and turned.
His thin training clothes clung to him, soaked through.
His muscles stood out under the fabric. Kin’s lips parted, and a thought flickered across her face—she wanted to touch them.
“Yes. Someone wants to see you, so don’t you want to wash up and greet them properly?”
Encrid felt a presence from beyond the mansion.
Someone with considerable skill.
They weren’t pouring out killing intent, but they weren’t hiding their presence either.
To show yourself like that meant confidence.
At least a junior knight.
“Do I need to bring the captain just to meet an old man?”
A voice spoke as someone entered the mansion.
A white-haired noble.
As he said, he was close to an old man, but there was strength in his steps—steady, grounded.
It was the walk of someone powerful.
Mac came out the moment the man entered.
Andrew stepped forward too.
“What brings you here?”
Even Andrew looked troubled.
In the current kingdom, the Vaisar were the closest to the Queen.
Among the nobles, excluding the Royal Guard, Count Molsen held the greatest power.
But if citizens and nobles were asked to name the most noble man, another name would come out.
A man respected by everyone in his land for kindness and clear governance.
Respected even outside it for never taking sides—never forming factions.
He was also one of the five-finger families, owner of the largest lands in the kingdom, and the Queen’s teacher.
The Marquess of Fertile Land.
The fourth finger that supported the kingdom.
At a glance, he looked like a chess-obsessed neighbor grandfather.
The Marquess entered with a smile and said,
“I came as a guest, but tell me if I came at the wrong time. I don’t intend to make you uncomfortable.”
Andrew shook his head immediately.
“Not at all. It’s humble here, but you may stay as long as you wish.”
Even Andrew showed him respect. That alone said plenty about the man’s reputation.
Encrid felt it too. He was different from the other nobles.
He had built something real from his land.
Of all the nobles Encrid had met here, he was the clearest.
That didn’t make him easy.
The guard behind him proved that.
And so did the way the Marquess looked at Encrid once he sat at the stone table in the training yard.
“Do what you were doing. I came suddenly, so I’ll wait.”
“Marquess.”
Kin spoke from the side, signaling with her eyes—telling Encrid to come and sit in front of him.
Encrid answered her look with words.
“Then.”
If the Marquess truly meant he would wait, then respecting that was only right.
It wasn’t a battle of nerves.
Still, the presence behind the Marquess sharpened slightly.
Encrid found that interesting.
It felt like the two guards might rush in at any moment if they disliked something.
“Who came?”
There was movement behind Encrid as well.
Rem stepped closer as he spoke, and Ragna tossed a glance over from where he sat.
Jaxson was already leaning with his back against the wall near the entrance.
Dunbakel and Esther moved in toward Encrid.
They were people whose presence wouldn’t yield to anyone.