CHAPTER 291

"He didn't seem like he was trying to die." 

The boss said. Even in this situation, what was he talking about? Oh, he was trying to persuade him.

He wanted Encrid to join them in their thievery. 

Oh, and did he also ask him to serve him at night?

Encrid couldn't remember. His memories were fading in and out, especially those from this wretched place.

All he could see were the thieving bastards in front of him, looking like dog heads.

They looked like horny dogs.

They laughed among themselves, their mouths stretching and elongating until they reached their ears.

His vision blurred.

Among them, the boss, with his dog-like head, flicked his tongue and approached.

They had already subdued everyone. Normally, in the past, he would have had to wait for the next opportunity.

As long as he didn't die, there would be a tomorrow. Another chance might come.

The moment he thought of tomorrow instead of today, he saw the child's corpse and heard the boss's words.

He said something more after that, but Encrid didn't listen.

The last thing he remembered was the dog-headed bastard stripping the dead child's clothes.

Why is he taking off those clothes?

Whoosh.

The Valen Mercenary Sword Technique. A bladeless knife.

Encrid was holding onto the blade of a knife, without a handle. His palm was torn, blood pouring out, but no one realized it was because of the blade he was holding.

He thrust it forward.

Squelch.

He stabbed deep.

Twist.

He twisted it.

Thud!

The boss swung his fist. Encrid's body was lifted into the air and thrown sideways.

He landed on his shoulder, his joint twisting. His left arm felt like it was dangling.

In that state, he lifted his head.

He saw the boss, clutching his belly with one hand.

The dog head had vanished, revealing his original face.

"You son of a bitch, if you want to die that badly, fine, die."

"Gehr, now." 

Encrid's tongue invoked magic. He spoke as if he really saw Gehr alive, swinging an axe behind the boss.

The boss flinched and rolled forward in shock.

Of course, Gehr wasn't there. He was already dead. If the dead rise and swing a sword, they become undead.

It would only be possible if he were a zombie or a skeleton soldier.

Seeing this, Encrid smirked. A fierce murderous intent appeared in the boss's eyes.

The boss, moving hastily, caused the wound on his stomach to tear open further, blood flowing out.

"You won't die easily."

Well, it didn't seem like he'd lived an easy life anyway.

That would be fitting.

Encrid was indifferent. He had done everything he could. If anyone approached, all he had left was to bite them.

And he intended to do just that.

'What a feeling.'

It felt like a penis. Like a dog. It was fucked.

Because of his lack of skill, he couldn't protect the boy who dreamed of a heroic death. Two of his comrades were dead. The village residents were also dead. And he would die too.

"What the hell was that bastard relying on?"

One of the thieving underlings asked.

"There is no faith."

Encrid answered as usual, and hearing that, the boss and the thieves concluded that Encrid was definitely crazy.

Saying something like that in a situation like this?

He must have hit his head hard when he was a kid.

Thud.

And then suddenly, there was a noise.

A head flew off, blood spurted out, and a headless corpse collapsed to the ground.

It was the one who had been taking off the child's pants.

Swoosh, thud, swish, splat.

Next to him, as if they were waiting for their turn, the heads of two others standing nearby also flew off.

Nothing could be seen clearly.

"What the hell is this, damn it!"

Mercenaries? No, even if they had returned, this wouldn't make sense. It was impossible.

It was as if a gust of wind had blown through and taken off the heads of several guys in an instant.

It was that fast. It was invisible. The source of the wind spoke. He was suddenly standing among the thieves, looking nonchalant.

He was wearing a hood that covered his entire face, with only his eyes visible, but Encrid could tell that this person was a woman disguised as a man.

Of course, that didn't matter at all.

"Are you the ones who messed with my campsite?"

The woman, disguised as a man, spoke while resting a longsword on her shoulder.

She was dressed in black leather armor and looked slender overall.

But despite her build, her swordsmanship was brutal.

Cutting off a person's head isn't an easy task. Even now, only a few people had died instantly from decapitation.

Yet she had swiftly and cleanly beheaded three sturdy thieves, despite catching them off guard.

"It's you, isn't it?"

She spoke incomprehensibly, and with each movement of her sword, more corpses appeared.

Encrid swallowed the blood flowing from his swollen lips, wheezing as he struggled to breathe.

He had taken a bad hit to the chest during the fight, injuring his lungs.

But it wasn't life-threatening.

He knew from experience what kind of injuries posed a real threat to his life. This was something he could endure. He wouldn't die from it.

Encrid forgot about the pain and watched the rampaging swordsman.

"Kill her! Arrows!"

Whizz!

Several arrows flew towards her. But, of course, they were in vain.

Her movements were barely visible. It was only through the falling rain that the executioners of the village residents, who were also Encrid's executioners, began to fall.

"All this just because we lost one measly rabbit!"

The boss shouted.

The swordsman responded with her sword. In other words, she cut him down.

"You vermin. You should have chosen your fights more carefully."

There was no hesitation or mercy in the swordsman's movements. She slashed, cut, stabbed, and killed in one swift motion.

Watching this, seeing the remaining thieves flee, Encrid passed out.

He had already lost a lot of blood, and his injuries were severe.

"By any chance, do you know someone with blonde hair, red eyes, about this tall, who gives off a lazy vibe?"

Even though he had fainted, he occasionally regained consciousness, and he heard those words at one of those moments.

The swordsman had looked at him briefly while he was unconscious.

When their eyes met, she said,

"If you don't know, never mind."

From what he heard later, she left after receiving a few gold coins from the villagers.

It wasn't a reward for saving them. She accepted it because they offered, and she didn't assign any meaning to what she had done.

In other words, she hadn't come to save or protect them.

She had simply been passing by, and they annoyed her, so she cut them down.

That was all there was to it.

After waking up, Encrid helped the villagers bury the dead.

He buried Gehr, Pitt, and the child.

"Why did you do it?"

It felt as though the dead child was asking him.

Standing alone among the graves, Encrid answered indifferently.

After recovering and returning, he had earned the nickname 'The One Who Lets His Comrades Die'.

It had been a fight where nothing was gained, and nothing was protected.

But it was a fight he couldn't back down from.

* * *

"Because I was twisted."

"What?"

"Their behavior was disgusting. Didn't you just want to hit them? If I ran away from there, it would feel like I lost. Oh, I couldn't stand that."

It was a statement completely devoid of any emotion. The tone was so flat and monotonous that it seemed like the epitome of indifference.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"And you say that so nonchalantly?"

"I'm like a man of cold flames."

"Oh, right, of course you are."

Krais gave up.

If he were someone who could be persuaded, he wouldn't have come this far in the first place.

Encrid stood up. He hadn't thought about that day in a long time.

"I won't ask you to run away. Just tell me, why did you really do it?"

It was the same question the kid had asked from the grave, as a haunting echo.

"Because that's what I wanted to do."

The same answer he had given back then.

What is a Knight?

They are those who keep their oaths.

Encrid grew up listening to poetry and dreaming of stories.

The dreams of that time continued into his present.

To Encrid, a Knight was someone who kept their oaths and didn't betray their own heart.

He had often found himself in similar situations since then.

Perhaps it was by the grace of the Goddess of luck.

He had barely survived each time.

Then, in a remote village of slash-and-burn farmers, he had received an amulet that repeated today over and over.

'You never know how things will turn out.'

So he did what he had to do. He would act according to his heart's desire and the oaths he had made.

"Oh, so you're planning to stand your ground, right? If you retreat here, half the people in the Border Guard will suffer, right? Some will die, and with those Cultists around, it'll be chaos, won't it? You're saying you're going to protect them. Isn't that it?"

"No, I just don't like the way they look."

"Come on, that's not true! You're doing this to protect people!"

"You're still talking informally."

"Fine. Fine. I give up. Let's just say I lose."

Krais sincerely gave up. Encrid chuckled.

Yes, he wanted to protect them.

Wasn't that his responsibility and duty?

If he couldn't even protect those standing behind him, then what was the point of wielding his sword?

What could he protect in the future? Who could he protect?

If he couldn't even take responsibility for those behind him, he couldn't do anything. That was Encrid's vow.

"May the Lord's blessing be with you."

Audin prayed without a smile.

Ragna silently cleaned and oiled his sword.

Jaxon had already slipped away.

Teresa and Dunbachel had nothing to say.

And Esther, of course, remained silent.

The panther seemed to care less about what anyone was saying.

"Ah, seriously, has everyone gone mad?"

Krais grumbled, but it seemed that none of them, including him, had any intention of leaving.

As the night passed, Encrid assessed that his right arm would be unusable for the time being.

Well, he could use it if absolutely necessary, but for now, he'd hold off.

His shin injury was surprisingly manageable.

'As long as I don't move too much.'

In the middle of the night, Audin asked. 

"Shall I heal you?"

Encrid was perceptive. While luck often played a role, his keen instincts had saved him many times.

He had a pretty good idea of what would happen if Audin used his Divine Power.

More than anything, should he really force someone to do something they were reluctant to do?

Should he make a devout soldier who resembled a bear sacrifice something just to heal his arm a little faster?

"No, it's fine." 

He said, pushing the offer away. Audin just smiled at that.

A strategy meeting was held in the dead of night. There were many urgent matters to address.

"We need to parry them. We have to make the enemy reveal their hand first."

"Hold out for another day, and on the third day, we'll make our move."

Graham nodded in agreement. He was thinking about the right moment to deploy the Heavy Infantry, while Krais imagined every possible misfortune that could occur on the battlefield and analyzed each one.

Krais stayed up almost the entire night, and the dark circles under his eyes deepened.

"Staying up all night is the enemy of good skin." 

Krais muttered, voicing his discontent while continuing to strategize.

The next morning, at the break of dawn, the battle resumed.

"Kill them all!" 

Laikanos shouted from the sidelines, choosing not to enter the fray himself.

"Hold the line! Stay intact." 

Krais instructed, while Encrid let his instincts guide him to the place his heart led. Right at the front, at the very forefront.

Encrid held his sword with only his left hand.

"Hold the line!"

"The pain that doesn't kill me—"

"Makes me stronger tomorrow!"

The distorted battle cries found their rhythm again.

As soon as the battle began, a thrusting unit targeted Encrid.

Laikanos merely watched. The single eye of the one-eyed man gleamed, but it didn't even register in Encrid's sight.

Encrid barely managed to hold out once again.

He wasn't dead, but he couldn't push forward either.

As Encrid endured, the morale of his allies soared.

Not even severe injuries could stop the Madmen Platoon.

Moreover, Encrid's subordinates hadn't even truly entered the fray yet.

It was as if both sides were holding back their final move.

"Kill them aaaaall!"

"Damn it!"

Between curses and battle cries, the soldiers fought fiercely.

Encrid survived again, but he took three sword strikes to the abdomen.

It was intentional, in a way.

Fighting with only one hand had messed up his movements, leading him to take risks.

The armor he had acquired from the explorer's tomb was a treasure. He trusted it.

Pat, pat.

Encrid patted his belly and laughed as he spoke.

"Solid."

Crazy talk, as always. Really.

Krais conveyed his thoughts through his expression, sighed, and endured the second day.

The next morning.

"Is all of this really necessary? Seriously?"

With his face, arms, and body covered in minor cuts, Krais grumbled. They were the scars of the previous day's battles.

It didn't bother him too much since these kinds of injuries would heal quickly, especially with a little spit.

But Krais still remarked on it, apparently not liking how it looked.

"They keep hitting and running. Just blocking them feels like a hassle."

As the price for exposing his abdomen, he slit the throats of two men.

One with the Snake Sword, and the other with a slash using the Middle Sword Technique.

"Let's not talk about it." 

He muttered.

When the battle resumed, Encrid saw something he never expected.

"Uuuuuuugh!"

A child, unable to properly scream or shout, stood at the front lines of the battlefield, on the enemy's side.

Not just at the front—he was standing well within arrow range, as if begging to be shot.

He wasn't with the bandits, the Viscount Tarnin's army, or the Cultists.

It was a familiar face. A child he vaguely remembered seeing in passing.

The boy was one of the children within the Border Guard, someone who had been protected within the territory, a face that should have been kept safe.

"A gift for you, you bastard!" 

Laikanos shouted from the rear. Even as he said it, there was no real expectation in his voice.

It was a cheap trick, meant only to break their morale a little.

"Vengeance." 

Encrid called out, and Vengeance immediately understood.

"Don't shoot!"

Vengeance shouted, and the archers lowered their bows. The enemy archers also refrained from shooting.

The child started running towards them, legs trembling, but somehow managing to keep going.

Encrid stepped forward a few paces.

He intended to deflect and block any arrows that might fly from behind, holding a round shield in his left hand.

The moment the child, who had been steadily running towards him, arrived in front of him—

Flash!

A bright light erupted from the child's abdomen.

And then—

"Is all of this really necessary? Seriously?"

Krais's reprimand woke him up.

Today has begun.

It was the same 'today' he had already experienced yesterday.