Chapter 416
“If there’s something you want to do, do it.”
The Marquis studied Kin Vaisar for a moment as he spoke, then turned and left at once. Kin stood there for a while, lost in thought.
A gust of wind kicked up dust. Kin didn’t even notice it brushing her face.
‘Is this how it ends up?’
Her whole body was trembling with shock.
The head of the house was not someone who went back on his word.
As she turned it over again and again, the words and actions of the man who had created this situation unsettled her.
‘Should I at least say thank you?’
Honestly, she wasn’t entirely uninterested in the man named Encrid. Not that she wanted to become his wife.
Was it a dream? Kin cared more for a jewel’s finished brilliance than for the cutting itself.
If she’d been born into a prestigious family of the Marquis Vaisar’s stature, she should have been admiring completed works, not involving herself in making or selling them.
So, it had been difficult to get permission. At most, it should have stayed something close to a hobby.
But the human heart was a curious thing.
She loved this work. She loved being able to pursue her own will and display her ability, instead of living as nothing more than a man’s accessory.
And for that, there would be things she’d have to give up.
She could borrow the family’s prestige, but she likely wouldn’t be able to live as a direct descendant of Marquis Vaisar anymore.
Kin wasn’t naive enough to miss even that.
‘Is it okay to live like this?’
Then she noticed someone who truly lived by his own will.
His name was Encrid. She felt she should convey her thanks.
Because it was his words that had led to this conclusion.
Having made up her mind, she stepped toward Encrid, who was already swinging his sword in a corner of the training grounds. She barely managed a few paces.
“Leave him be.”
The barbarian leaning casually against a wall spoke.
“I have something to say…”
“Right now, even if you danced naked beside him—ah, you’re a noble. Anyway, he won’t hear a word you say from the side.”
The analogy was unpleasant, but Kin ignored it and looked at Encrid.
He had his back to the Marquis, swinging his sword with utter focus. His pupils were unfocused, his mouth half-open, as if he were intoxicated. He was already lost, drunk on swordsmanship.
A fanatical training maniac.
‘No wonder they call him a madman.’
Kin turned away. Later, she told a few acquaintances about it. Marquis Vaisar put on a show of being upset, but admiring the other man’s boldness, he spread the anecdote far and wide.
Thus, in the capital, no one could bother Encrid and his party anymore.
He was the man who had refused even the influence of the Marquis Vaisar’s household, a house all but promised a dukedom.
===
The moment the Marquis and Kin left, Encrid turned his back to them and started swinging his sword. He couldn’t put this off any longer. Whether someone watched or waited didn’t matter—he truly couldn’t delay it.
‘Ah, this is fun.’
Had sparring with Rem, Ragna, and Audin left him with something?
No. He’d just gotten broken.
And yet, it was fun. The whole process—swinging, thinking, then recreating it with his body—filled him with joy.
There were movements he’d done hundreds of times a day. Basic techniques: overhead slash, horizontal slash, downward slash, thrust. Encrid began repeating them.
He didn’t expect any new realization or change.
He did it simply because it was enjoyable—and then even more enjoyable.
After several days of swinging his sword and doing simple sparring, word came that a merit award ceremony would be held.
“Let’s go.”
Encrid set out with Rem, Ragna, Audin, Dunbakel, and Teresa.
Sinar had business and left early, so she hadn’t come with them in the first place.
“Please count me out.”
Jaxson wasn’t the type to show up at such occasions to begin with.
Esther, in panther form, shook her head. In the end, only the rest went.
The audience chamber was packed with nobles.
“The hero who saved the nation has arrived.”
A courtier announced from behind, and Krang, seated on the throne, nodded. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and he looked utterly exhausted.
Two nobles stood closest to him. One was the Marquis of Okto, the other was Markus Vaisar.
Marquis Vaisar stood a step behind them.
Krang spoke, boldly skipping any pomp about the King’s greatness or the magnificence of lineage.
“I apologize for the delay in holding this event.”
Some nobles sighed at the sheer brevity.
They muttered about the King’s dignity, then fell silent before Krang.
The King who ended the civil war.
The King who won without summoning the royal guard.
The King the nobles themselves had chosen to follow.
This was the first event held by that King. To openly refute his actions here?
No matter how foolish someone was, any noble lacking that much political sense should have their title stripped.
Appropriate rewards were given to several nobles and commanders. Krong and parcels of territory were among them.
Andrew was among the recipients. He received territory, gold coins, and a change of title. He became Viscount Gardener. He also received something akin to an official post in the capital.
It went on like that.
“I command Markus Vaisar, as Supreme Commander…”
A monk serving as scribe conveyed the King’s will.
“…for his distinguished service, I bestow upon him the rank of Count.”
As the words ended, the atmosphere—so buoyant until then—went cold, as if someone had poured ice water over the room.
“What did you just say?”
Marquis Vaisar asked, lips trembling.
Markus Vaisar was meant to inherit the marquisate. For this, he should have received a dukedom.
But by taking the rank of Count, he had effectively kicked away his succession.
Encrid knew this was all Markus Vaisar’s doing.
A small commotion broke out, and Marquis Vaisar looked utterly devastated.
In the end, the head of the Vaisar household had sided with Krang—but not from the beginning.
It was like placing his gold coin on the scale only after long deliberation.
Even that could be called a gamble, but not for Markus.
Marquis Vaisar glared at Markus, then shook his head and clamped his mouth shut.
Encrid watched and thought he looked like a thoroughly sulky old man.
“For truly great merit, I bestow the rank of Duke.”
Instead of Vaisar, the Marquis of Okto became a Duke. He knelt on one knee and bowed his head.
Rewards were handed out, one after another, but some names weren’t called until the end.
Encrid and the Madmen Company.
“I want to do the last one myself.”
The King rose from the throne and took a step forward. Without looking at anyone else, he spoke.
“Need a title?”
His tone was like asking a neighbor if they needed firewood.
Encrid thought ‘not really,’ so he gave a light shake of his head.
“No.”
It was as if he’d left court etiquette somewhere in the Demon Realm, but who could say anything?
Only a few nobles who couldn’t control their expressions frowned.
“Thought so. I’ve opened the treasury report. If you want, take whatever you can get your hands on.”
“Thank you.”
“After that, return to where you were.”
This was the line Encrid had been waiting for. Still, some watched with doubt in their eyes.
‘He just opens the treasure vault?’
‘Is this right?’
‘What happens to the hunting dog after the hunt?’
‘It should be boiled and eaten.’
Some muttered nonsense, but even if Krang or Encrid heard it, neither would have cared in the slightest.
“I’m busy. I believe you all are busy too. Just because the civil war ended doesn’t mean ‘they all lived happily ever after.’ That’s not even a fairy tale. You know that, right?”
It was a natural statement. Fairy tales didn’t have civil wars and blood-soaked battlefields.
“So, let’s get to work.”
The workaholic King spoke, and the merit award ceremony ended more modestly than ever.
A luncheon banquet followed. It was a dry affair, and the King didn’t even attend.
“I’m concerned about the King’s dignity.”
Some nobles still fretted over his attitude, but Encrid brushed those concerns aside.
Hadn’t they already seen it at the memorial coronation?
Krang had recited the names of the soldiers carved into the memorial monument.
Encrid remembered the eyes turned toward the new King then.
A monk quietly offering prayers.
A mother shedding tears as she looked at him.
Fathers and children.
And among the nobles, the proper ones—those who knelt after the coronation and pledged true loyalty.
Even without halos, without grand festivals, the coronation held in the heart of the capital had branded the new King into everyone’s memory.
‘That’s enough.’
Encrid moved with a lightened heart. The rest was for Krang to handle.
It was time to return to the Border Guard. But first, he had to stop by the palace treasury.
He wondered how many swords there might be to replace Silver.
“Here we are.”
Even Rem and Ragna showed a hint of interest in the palace treasury.
But it wasn’t what they’d imagined. The doors were thrown wide open, and carts were constantly coming and going.
“Ah, still a bit busy.”
Markus himself guided them. The Supreme Commander of the kingdom’s army, newly made Count, acting ruler of Count Molsen’s territory, and head of the capital defense force.
“Aren’t you busy?”
“You said you’d come here and leave right away. Then I should see you now. I don’t have time to leisurely come out to greet you.”
If you’re that busy, wouldn’t it be fine not to see us?
Thinking that, they went inside to see the kingdom’s treasures.
It was nothing like what they’d pictured.
The vault was spacious and largely empty. Gold coins weren’t piled like mountains, and magic swords weren’t hanging in neat rows.
“Coming through, please!”
A cart loaded with several boxes brushed past Encrid.
The worker pulling it was drenched in sweat, working so hard he didn’t even glance at Encrid.
Encrid took it in and considered the situation. He understood at once what was happening.
Rem seemed to realize it too, asking before Encrid could speak.
“Are they covering the civil war damages from here?”
Markus, apparently relieved that his barbarian friend had a working head, nodded.
“Magic swords?”
Ragna thought any sword with an enchantment would do—something tied to magic, with a will, or failing that, a blade that breathed fire or ice. At the very least, a weapon that wouldn’t lose its sharpness.
For a temporary weapon, that was enough.
“None.”
“Why?”
Ragna’s words became clipped. Markus didn’t blame them for the rudeness. What was the point of nitpicking such things with madmen?
“Sold them all.”
Ragna didn’t press further. If there weren’t any, there weren’t any.
‘If there are no enchanted swords.’
Should he try imbuing a sword with Will?
A genius’s thoughts often ran on a different track.
Encrid looked around. There wasn’t a single thing better than the longsword he’d picked up on the way to the training grounds.
He didn’t even see a blade mixed with Valerian steel.
“I’m good.”
Rem shook his head.
The items truly worthy of being called the kingdom’s treasures were already held by knights or the royal guard, and the rest lay in secret vaults deep within the palace—things that couldn’t simply be handed to anyone.
That was what a national treasure was.
Krang probably wanted to tell him to take even that, but the national treasure was a staff in which the Sun Beast slept, not a sword or shield.
It was something Encrid neither wanted nor could use.
“They say poverty is no sin.”
It was Audin, who had never cared about treasures in the first place.
Dunbakel said her own bardiche was better and chose nothing, then took a single shin guard made from magical beast hide. That was the most usable item. Teresa quietly shook her head, following Audin.
“I didn’t do anything.”
Teresa thought she hadn’t done anything particularly great on this battlefield.
She also believed greed was something to avoid.
“Please tell Krang we’ll see him again.”
Encrid took the opportunity to say it.
“Hmm, right. You can probably call the King by name. Dignity and all that—the King and the hero who saved the nation, the demon slayer—Demon Slayer—can be friends.”
Markus spoke without being bound by stiff etiquette. A rather free-thinking perspective.
It was enough to be tactful in official settings. Markus didn’t think Encrid was that foolish.
Encrid finished his rough preparations to leave and started moving.
He hadn’t expected a grand send-off. They probably didn’t have the resources for that anyway.
Just look at the state of the treasury.
‘It’s a miracle the country isn’t ruined.’
No—maybe they’d opened the national treasury precisely so it wouldn’t be.
It was fine not to receive anything at the merit award ceremony.
He hadn’t come hoping for anything to begin with.
After gathering One-Eye and heading out along the road on the outskirts of the capital, a group of Royal Guards blocked the way halfway.
At their head, a captain in a gray helmet stepped forward.
‘A spar?’
Seeing that, Encrid thought.
He too felt regret when a skilled person left abruptly. Maybe the other man felt the same. Encrid stepped forward, ready to accept.
The Royal Guard commander removed his gray helmet and knelt on one knee.
“Thanks to you, my eyes were opened, and thanks to you, I walk rightly and justly.”
He spoke and paid his respects.
After him, all the Royal Guards knelt in the same manner.
“For the hero who saved the nation!”
It could hardly be called a modest send-off.
Among them was Lierbart, someone Encrid knew from the past.
His merits on the battlefield had been recognized, and he’d been transferred to this unit.
“Long time no see.”
Encrid spoke as he received the salute and passed by. He was one of the few who had taken Encrid’s side. No matter how much time passed, there were people one couldn’t forget.
Lierbart bowed deeply.
“I am ashamed.”
Recalling his past self, Lierbart spoke, and Encrid tapped his shoulder and moved on.
‘And also for my shining hero.’
Lierbart, not as a Royal Guard but as a single swordsman, swore inwardly that if the man named Encrid ever called for him, he would run to him.
Once he had fulfilled all his duties—if Encrid wished it—he would do so.
Encrid thought the send-off would end there, but it didn’t.
When the capital gates came into view, it looked as though half the city’s citizens had filled the area before them.
From the sheer buzz, it seemed even more people had gathered than during the memorial coronation.
“For the hero who saved the nation!”
The capital’s citizens watched him leave. They came out as if by promise. Among them was the healer who had lost her son, and Andrew and his trainees.
Right after the merit award ceremony ended, they must have wondered where he’d gone.
Even though he’d received territory and would be unbelievably busy now, Andrew came to see him off.
“I thought you’d leave right away.”
Andrew approached and spoke.
“There’s nothing left for me to do here.”
“We’ll see each other again, right?”
“Come visit.”
“Yes.”
As he exchanged brief greetings with Andrew, Aisia and the South Gate guard captain approached from the side.
“Leaving just like this?”
The guard captain spoke, and Aisia extended her hand. Encrid clasped it.
“See you again.”
A simple greeting. The guard captain bowed his head, saying he was indebted.
Aisia only shook his hand, saying nothing else.
Rem, hearing the citizens cheering, offered a piece of advice.
“At least wave.”
Encrid did as he was told and waved his hand.
“Demon Slayer!”
“Hero who saved the nation!”
“Take me with you!”
Why were there always people asking to be taken?
Encrid thought that, and kept waving.
The cheers grew louder.
Waaaaaaah!
A roar louder than any cheer he’d heard on the battlefield pushed at Encrid’s back. It wasn’t a bad feeling.
“They say noble slayer.”
Hearing Rem mutter, Encrid chuckled and left the capital.
Now, truly time to return…
“Let’s go together partway.”
It was around the time the capital Nauril grew distant. Several people blocked the main road.
At the front.
“Aren’t you the King?”
“Does the King only work and not live?”
Krang was there.
He’d thought there would be no send-off, but it had turned out to be anything but quiet.