Chapter 371

“What!”

Polman Bertes—whose name Encrid had memorized without meaning to—shouted, his face flushed red. Encrid stared back.

Chief of Public Order.

A bureaucrat with authority over law enforcement.

And, of course, a noble.

‘Do they just pull nobles out of some infinite pocket in this Royal Palace?’

“There are too many.”

Every Tom, Dick, and Harry was a viscount, a baron, a junior baron—each insisting they had blue blood.

‘Didn’t they hand out titles too freely?’

The useless thought flickered through his mind, then vanished.

Whether there were many nobles or few wasn’t Encrid’s concern.

Still, he couldn’t help thinking it wouldn’t hurt if their numbers thinned a little.

“Hey.”

Rem spoke while picking at his ear, addressing the furious Polman.

“Listen up.”

“You scoundrel, who do you think you are, stepping forward here!”

He seemed to be a guard captain—one in charge of another gate, at that.

Thwack!

As he erupted, the South Gate Border Guard Captain smacked his own forehead.

‘Why is he stepping up and making a fuss?’ That was the message.

Encrid understood soldiers.

How many of them were here of their own will?

The quick-witted ones wore stiff, uncomfortable expressions. They knew what the people in front of them had done.

They’d dealt with the Moonlight Beast. They’d kept their families, citizens, comrades, and friends safe.

They’d done the job they were supposed to do.

Unease sat in their eyes, mirrored in their faces.

Especially around the South Gate Border Guard Captain, there were many like that.

Rem casually ignored the man who’d stepped forward and kept talking.

“The Moonlight Beast killed and threatened citizens, yeah? But huh? It wasn’t getting handled, so even a Junior Knight came to help catch it. We catch it, and it turns out it’s this Vantra or whatever—this nincompoop. And now what? Murder?”

“You impudent fool!”

One of the guard captains, furious, raised a spear taller than he was.

He looked ready to charge at any second.

Rem lowered the hand he’d been using to pick his ear and glanced at him.

He looked ready to carve him apart if he came in.

“W-Wait. Just a moment.”

The South Gate Border Guard Captain hurried forward.

If he let this go, it would become a disaster. He’d seen Encrid’s group fight.

Polman had been bursting with jealousy and thought this was his chance, so he’d rushed out—only to be stopped at the last second.

If this ended as a brawl, keeping his position would be impossible.

But nothing had changed.

He’d been dragged here anyway.

He couldn’t die for insubordination, could he? He’d come in like someone licking Ghoul blood—knowing it was poison.

Even so, he couldn’t just watch.

If he did, his subordinates would die. His comrades would get cut down, heads rolling on the ground. He couldn’t bear that.

“There’s a misunderstanding.”

Polman saw him step forward and lifted his brows.

“Step aside. What do you think you’re doing!”

Where did authority and dignity come from?

Look at Krang. It came from the person himself. His gait was different. The way he spoke was different. The weight of his words was different.

Trust and faith earned through action gave power to what he said.

“Kneel down immediately!”

So did the man in front of him have authority and dignity?

The force in his voice sounded like a buzzing mosquito.

All that stood there was a petty man blinded by jealousy.

He lowered his voice and mimicked dignity, but it came out like an immature child’s whining. Coming all the way here might have been childish in itself.

‘Have I been seeing too many outstanding people lately?’

Krang, the Marquess of Okto, Ruagarne, Aisia, and others.

Even the Whip Bodyguard had come out to fight the Moonlight Beast.

Protecting their lord came first, but they moved because they knew upholding their lord’s will came first.

Their actions carried purpose—duty, will, conviction.

They looked like people who had chosen something for themselves, not tools swinging at Krang’s command.

Compared to them, the man whining in front of him was pathetic.

Encrid had ears. Hadn’t the chief of public order said he’d been grinding his teeth in jealousy because someone at the party had taken a liking to Encrid?

“If you’re not here to talk, we should start quickly.”

Ragna stepped forward.

Thwack.

The South Gate Border Guard Captain smacked his forehead again.

He was at the end of his rope.

The chief of public order decided he’d endured enough.

These bug-like things didn’t even respect a noble’s dignity.

It wasn’t because the lady he liked had fallen for Encrid at first sight.

He was a chief of public order, a noble.

The other was just a soldier.

According to the rumors, Encrid had become like this by stealing his comrades’ achievements.

Rumors spread by those who envied Encrid had snowballed.

And with his ears plugged, the chief of public order only heard what he wanted to hear.

He even ignored “Hero of the Border Guard.”

Baron Vantra turned into some kind of monster?

Whether he truly had or not, it was an opportunity.

Even Baron Mernes had urged him, subtly.

Go. Finish it.

And so he arrived here, and the result was the order he’d just given.

“Arrest them!”

At the command, two commander-level guard captains and a few cavalrymen dismounted and advanced.

Their momentum was menacing.

Even as rumors, Encrid’s accomplishments were too big.

Even if only a portion was true, they weren’t opponents these men could handle.

The fact they were stepping up meant plenty of false stories had spread.

Encrid watched them approach, expression flat.

Should he follow obediently? No.

He shouldn’t follow even if they asked politely.

He knew it instinctively.

‘Things have already gone wrong.’

Otherwise, why arrest him when Krang and Marcus were here?

“Arrest Junior Baron Andrew as well. He’s suspected of the same crime. You may kill them if they resist.”

“Hmph.”

Andrew snorted, as if to say, ‘Try it.’

Polman’s eyes raked over Encrid and his group’s equipment.

As if praying they’d attack.

He got his wish.

There was no need for a great battle. Ignoring the men closing in, Encrid spoke.

“Dunbakel. Catch him and bring him here.”

Ragna and Rem didn’t need to move.

One Beastkin shot forward. A white shadow stretched long—short white hair turning into a line.

One guard captain reflexively thrust his spear.

He was a specialist, able to handle a spear freely. Among ordinary soldiers, he was skilled.

But Dunbakel was a Beastkin even Aisia acknowledged.

As she ran, she flicked the spearhead with her fingernails, knocking it off course, then seized the shaft and flung it aside.

“Ugh!”

The guard captain holding it tumbled with it.

Three, four more soldiers blocked her path. Dunbakel didn’t even draw her curved sword.

She stepped in, hooked their shins to trip them, then drove punches into their jaws.

Helmets didn’t protect jaws.

Especially not against an upward punch from close range.

Jaw—thud. Thwack. Crack.

After a few sharp sounds, the soldiers fell like dominoes.

Dunbakel didn’t stop. That had only been a step.

She surged forward again.

Seeing her, the chief of public order grabbed for the sword at his waist—a broad blade with a wide edge.

As his fingers reached the grip, Dunbakel reached him on horseback.

She caught his wrist mid-draw and twisted.

The horse shrieked and reared, front hooves lifting.

“U-Ugh!”

Still gripping his wrist, Dunbakel yanked him down.

His foot snagged in the stirrup, and his ankle twisted the wrong way with a snap.

His left foot came free, but the right stayed caught.

“Aaaaaagh!”

He screamed as pain lanced through him.

Dunbakel hauled harder.

The chief of public order’s scream began on horseback and ended in front of Encrid.

She’d dropped five soldiers in an instant, then dragged him by the wrist and tossed him down.

The captain of the capital’s public order—next in rank—moved to act, then froze.

‘What the hell is this?’

To be honest, stopping her didn’t even occur to him. He’d barely managed to draw his sword, despite being right next to her target.

Ting.

The sound of steel leaving its sheath matched his heart—thin and powerless, lacking conviction.

He held his sword out.

But could he swing it?

They clearly weren’t ordinary. He should’ve brought royal guard members. A Junior Knight, at least.

He himself was a Squire, and he had brought royal guard men, but in this moment it was the wrong roster.

He had brought a Squire.

Not a Junior Knight.

“Can you stop her?”

The captain asked in a low voice. The Squire at his left stared, unable to take his eyes off her.

“She’s above my level.”

He didn’t add “by far,” but he didn’t need to.

He knew the moment he saw her.

If that Beastkin came at him, could he handle it?

A fight’s outcome was only known after it happened, but skill differences could be read at a glance.

Her movement told him everything.

At minimum, she was a top-tier Squire on the verge of Junior Knight—or already at Junior Knight level.

And there was something even more dangerous.

Someone was ordering her around, and the others watched without a care.

The soldiers were intimidated from the start.

No one spoke.

Their highest-ranking commander had been seized.

Everyone could see the chief of public order sprawled in front of Encrid, ankle ruined, cold sweat pouring down his face, unable to stand.

“How dare you!”

Even with his spirit cracked, he resisted to the end.

He didn’t have authority or dignity, but he had stubbornness.

Encrid looked down at him.

“Junior Knight Aisia was with us. Is the charge still the murder of Baron Vantra?”

“Junior Knight Aisia? You think you can get away with it by bringing up a royal guard member! These are rebels! What are you all doing!”

Jealousy had rotted his judgment. He didn’t even bother to read the room.

He shrieked.

The Squire stepped forward.

“That’s right. Junior Knight Aisia did not deny any charges.”

“Then she was captured as well?”

Encrid’s gaze shifted.

“She is a royal guard member.”

The Squire swallowed, tension spiking, but kept his composure.

Encrid understood enough.

“What are you doing! Arrest them immediately!”

The chief of public order screamed again.

Thwack!

Encrid kicked him in the jaw and knocked him unconscious.

His head twisted to the side as he collapsed, drool pooling beneath him.

He’d only fainted.

“What, if you’re going to kill him, tell me.”

Rem chuckled from behind.

“Forgot my nickname?”

Encrid ignored him.

“Who’s next in charge? If you’re planning a full charge, think carefully. I have no intention of turning Andrew’s mansion into a graveyard.”

Silence followed.

“I’d appreciate an explanation of what happened in the Royal Palace.”

Something had happened.

Otherwise, none of this made sense.

Clatter! Clatter!

Urgent hooves closed in.

“Save me!”

Encrid leapt, clearing the wall in one bound.

Rem followed, running up the stone like flat ground.

Ragna’s voice stopped the rest cold.

“Stay still.”

From the wall, Encrid saw Marcus sprinting along the bluestone path.

Someone chased him.

The pursuer wore layered leather and a strange cloak.

Above his shoulders, spears floated, following like a swarm.