Chapter 400

Markus Vaisar, having gained Krang’s support, was now the supreme commander of the main force.

He knew the value of the time Encrid had bought. Even a single day was enough to do quite a lot.

“Get all the unit commanders in here!”

It was time for tactics and strategy. Did he have a knack for that sort of thing? It didn’t matter if he didn’t.

All he had to do was gather the ones who did.

“The reconnaissance team keeps constant watch on the enemy’s movements! Everyone else rests! Eat and rest, but don’t disarm. Tell them to keep their weapons by their side at all times!”

Markus barked orders without pause.

Krang watched him and was reminded of Encrid, whom he had seen not long ago.

It gave him goosebumps.

There was someone who stood on the battlefield and showed his back.

Krang called such a person a knight.

The kind of knight the bards spoke of.

Not a symbol of force, but a symbol of honor and conviction.

Those who took up their swords for what they believed in.

Guardians of the oath.

Encrid was not a piece he had prepared. Even so, Krang trusted him. He wanted him to help.

That intention worked. Encrid did exactly what Krang had wanted.

Even so, Krang couldn’t be sure if Encrid was someone he could embrace.

‘Can I embrace him?’

He was greedy. He wanted to keep him by his side. The feeling surged up in an instant, but Krang quickly abandoned it.

There was a better way. He just had to choose that.

‘It’s okay if I don’t embrace him.’

What about staying friends?

That wasn’t bad either. So, they were friends. And the hero had returned.

“Enki.”

Krang greeted him first. Markus looked at him as well.

All Encrid had done was cut down a few enemy soldiers and fight one battle that looked like a draw with the enemy commander, but the force he’d shown had carved itself into everyone’s memory.

And his fight had raised the allies’ morale.

Inside the command post where plans were being drawn up.

Seeing Krang lift a hand from inside, Encrid gave a rough nod.

Even if they were friends, he couldn’t just call Krang by name in a place like this.

Encrid had a sense for situations and knew how to act accordingly.

Of course, even if he called Krang’s name right now, no one would say anything.

He had that sense, but he didn’t really grasp what he’d done.

Krang took that as another one of Encrid’s traits, and assumed that was why he hadn’t called his name.

Soon, those who could be called commanders filed into the command post one by one.

One of them shouted the moment he entered.

“Put me at the front!”

Baron Rudin was a man who had dreamed of joining the royal guards. His blood was boiling. He had seen a man stand alone against thousands of refined troops.

If his blood didn’t boil after that, he wouldn’t be human.

Flames rose in his eyes.

“Hold back.”

Markus said as he looked at him.

Leaving aside strategy and tactics, Markus knew what he had to do now.

He intended to tip the scales of the battle with a single fight.

That meant he had to use every measure he’d prepared.

“The Count may still be hiding his cards. But the fact remains that we have to fight. We’ll endure together and fight as one.”

Markus set the overall direction, and those with sharp minds filled in the gaps.

At the core was Encrid’s Madman Company, but no one could tell them how to move.

Excellent strategists keep soldiers moving without rest.

They make each man understand his role, and make him do it.

But there were people who didn’t need that kind of instruction.

Those who went beyond the normal scope of action and found their own place.

Encrid was one of them.

So Markus said nothing. He didn’t need to give orders.

That was why he simply skipped over Encrid while assigning positions.

In numbers, Encrid and his group were only a squad-level force, but no one thought of them as just a squad.

Everyone had seen it. Now they knew.

His skill was real, and the words “Hero of the Border Guards” were not empty.

It was the final step of the strategy meeting.

“The Madman Company will move on its own, right?”

Markus needed certainty. He wanted to hear it out loud.

Would they become a blade and cut down the enemy for their lord?

Was his judgment correct?

Would they go beyond normal limits and find the place where they needed to fight?

“Yes, they will.”

The answer was simple, but Markus felt relieved.

Encrid nodded once, then returned to the assigned barracks.

It was a fairly large barracks. Rem had lit a bonfire right in front of it, and he was making something.

“It feels like we’re going to have a hard time starting tomorrow.”

The warrior they called a barbarian spoke what he felt instinctively.

It was true. It would be rough, and it would be dangerous.

“Are you dying of anticipation?”

“How did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face.”

Encrid sat on a flat stone chair of a decent height that Rem had dragged over.

Rem really was talented at finding and making things like this one by one.

“Where’s my chair?”

Ragna asked as he came out of the barracks. Rem answered without answering, basically telling him to get lost.

“Did you leave it here?”

“Did you get beaten up with a sprained ankle and now you’re taking it out on us?”

It was still a joke about how he’d been injured while catching the Immortal Madman.

Ragna was persistent.

Rem ignored him, and Ragna stubbornly hauled over a similar stone from somewhere and sat down next to him.

Jaxson was smarter than that.

He shaved wood as if he were carving it into fine slices, shaping something that looked like a chair.

If they were going to go this far, wouldn’t it be better to borrow a simple chair from someone in charge of supplies?

Dunbakel just sat on the ground.

That looked comfortable.

Esther transformed into a panther and curled up in his arms.

Encrid wiped himself down roughly with a wet towel and watched what Rem was doing.

Rem had fresh meat, as if he’d held an ax to the supply officer’s neck.

Or maybe he’d hunted on the way.

It was a cut ordinary soldiers would struggle to ever see.

He made shallow cuts with a small knife, sprinkled salt between them, then wrapped it in clean cotton cloth.

While Encrid watched, Rem opened his mouth.

“This draws out the leftover blood. Makes the meat more tender.”

“Sounds delicious.”

When Encrid replied, Rem glanced around.

Aisia was already there, sitting down.

She still carried an easy friendliness. The kind of personality that always had people around her hadn’t gone anywhere.

Considering how things had turned out, she’d been betrayed pretty badly.

What was the name of that Junior Knight of Severance again?

Encrid dug through his memory, then gave up.

He couldn’t remember it at all.

“I’m not giving any to arrogant bastards.”

Rem said.

Even as he said it, he would share. He wasn’t as stingy as he acted.

Ragna thought for a moment, frowned, then said,

“If you give it to me, I’ll forget about that.”

He meant he’d stop teasing him about his injured leg.

Judging by his face, they’d probably tormented him countless times even when Encrid wasn’t around.

Crazy bastards.

It was ridiculous that getting injured in a fight was a laughing matter, and that he was getting teased, getting mad, and still keeping it going.

“I’ll let you off the hook.”

Rem replied. Ragna was picky about food. He knew how important Rem’s cooking was, so he backed off.

Encrid just watched quietly.

As Rem salted the meat, Jaxson silently tossed a small pouch.

Of course, it was his will to eat.

Rem caught it with a thud, pursed his lips into an O, and said,

“Bastard.”

It sounded like praise. Jaxson ignored him.

Inside the pouch were spices.

When Rem sprinkled them over the meat, the aroma spread.

Maybe there were herbs mixed in.

“If you put poison in it, you’re dead.”

Rem muttered. He was smiling, so it was a joke.

Jaxson ignored him again and sat beside Encrid.

Dunbakel quietly helped Rem with the preparation.

“Don’t use your fingernails. Did you wash your hands?”

“I’ll use a knife.”

Dunbakel was unusually quiet.

The cloth turned red. She removed it, wiped the meat, then patted it with another cloth.

Rem surrounded the bonfire with stones to make a stand, then placed an iron pan on top—something he’d gotten from somewhere.

He poured flaxseed oil into the pan.

“This is precious. This.”

That was what he said. Encrid nodded.

For a while, Rem was the law here.

The pan heated to the right temperature. The oil spread wide, and the smell stung his nose. Rem laid the meat onto the iron pan.

Sizzle!

Smoke rose with a savory aroma. The scent of meat mixed with hot oil swept up his nose and punched straight into his brain. His mouth watered.

“Hmm.”

Encrid let out a small groan of admiration, and Rem stared at the meat with intense focus.

He was more serious than ever, but his hands moved lightly and quickly.

He flipped the meat. The surface had turned dark brown and firm.

Sizzle.

White smoke rose as he grilled the other side.

Then he stabbed the meat with something like an iron skewer and seared the sides as well.

When he judged it done, he moved it to a clean wooden board.

Dunbakel’s hand reached toward it.

“If you eat it, you’re dead. Wait.”

Rem said without even looking.

“Ah, why.”

“Because it tastes better if you wait.”

It was the most reasonable reason, and the softest persuasion Rem had ever offered.

Dunbakel agreed.

After grilling a few more pieces, he sliced them one by one, starting with the first. The inside was red, the outside brown.

“I brought a cut with a lot of fat on purpose. This is it.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“I don’t know if I ran into a nomadic group nearby, but they had fresh stuff.”

He kept talking as he cut.

“Eat.”

Rem crossed his arms.

Encrid moved with a sudden burst of speed. A point of focus naturally followed. He stabbed, lifted, and pulled back. A thick piece of meat rose on the skewer.

Encrid put it in his mouth and chewed.

Crunch.

Juice burst. The rich aroma surged through his nose and into his head.

If the smell had struck his salivary glands, the taste stabbed his tongue.

Every hair on his body reacted.

This was it. This was cooking. This was meat.

Tender flesh slipped between his teeth, then went down his throat.

‘What?’

Was it a dream? When did it go down?

Encrid moved the skewer again.

“There’s plenty.”

Rem said.

They ate their fill. They were all big eaters. With bodies that moved that much, they had to eat that much.

They only stopped after eating, and eating again, and finally rubbing their bellies.

Even Jaxson silently chewed and swallowed.

It was an unexpected feast.

“Phew. I ate well, so let’s have a good time tomorrow morning.”

Rem patted his stomach.

“I was going to say that.”

Encrid took the words for himself.

“Ah, I ate well. Encrid, I saw the fight today.”

Aisia spoke, then left first.

It wasn’t a night with anything special to do. Everyone spent time however they liked.

Ragna had no thoughts.

Rem was looking forward to it.

Jaxson made an excuse about taking a walk and went outside for a while.

As he walked in the night air, a shadow rose from one side.

It was his lover and the guild’s contact.

“Do you have to go this far?”

She asked out of nowhere. In truth, she couldn’t understand it.

“This is the last time.”

Jaxson replied. She was asking why he was going to the battlefield under Encrid.

Jaxson’s answer was that he would leave this as his last gift.

His lover stared at him intently.

She didn’t know why. She couldn’t understand it, and she couldn’t even guess.

But it felt like Jaxson wouldn’t come back.

‘Do you remember your father’s words?’

Suddenly, the words of Jaxson’s teacher—his dead father—came to her mind.

“Find the place where you belong.”

It had been an order, and a will.

Jaxson hadn’t taken it to heart, but his lover had.

In any case, it was something she couldn’t know now.

While Jaxson was out in the night, Dunbakel couldn’t sleep for some reason, and she came outside too.

She sat on the stone chair Rem had used and stared blankly at the sky.

It was a moonlit night.

It felt like a good night for a raid, but the enemy was quiet.

Dunbakel shivered. Not from cold.

Her life had been struggle and survival. She fought to live. More precisely, she survived by running, or by doing whatever it took.

Her instincts told her.

A dizzying danger, like standing at the edge of a cliff with her body leaning forward.

But she didn’t want to run.

So what should she do?

‘Desperate struggle.’

Hadn’t she already seen it? Learned it from what was right beside her?

From Encrid.

The moonlight tilted. Clouds that had appeared from nowhere covered the moon. Darkness fell.

Crackle.

The torchfire around her flickered.

Whoosh.

Wind swept over her whole body.

‘Just go forward with a desperate struggle.’

Dunbakel steeled herself.

Even so, the trembling didn’t stop easily.

Esther, transformed into a panther, was curled up in Encrid’s arms.

She opened her eyes while everyone else slept.

A surge of mana.

In other words, she felt the flow of some spell.

It was a form she’d never seen before. She couldn’t tell what it was yet.

She lifted her gaze and saw Encrid sleeping.

Quiet breathing.

He slept soundly, as if he had nothing to worry about.