Chapter 449 - A Dream of Sweeping Away the Demonic Realm

Chapter 449 - A Dream of Sweeping Away the Demonic Realm

"My grandfather carved this castle gate himself with a sword. Isn't it amazing?"

When Oara spoke, Enkrid responded appropriately with a comment.

"Indeed."

"Ah, I miss my ex-husband."

"...Out of nowhere?"

Oara often blurted out inexplicable things, giving the impression of being impulsive. From her actions so far, she didn't seem like a particularly calculated person.

"If I just kill that bastard ex-husband of mine, this demonic realm will be over."

Though it was a puzzling statement, Enkrid received it calmly. After all, his experience dealing with people like Rem hadn't gone to waste.

"Does your ex-husband live in the demonic realm?"

At that calm question, Oara laughed heartily. She'd never met someone who replied like that before.

"Oh no, it's just someone with the same name."

At some point, Roman approached, carrying a liquor bottle and a metal cup. Drinks started making the rounds.

"What's this? What are you drinking? Give me some."

Rem appeared.

"Go ahead."

Oara nodded in approval.

Uncharacteristically, the barbarian from the West wetted his lips and quietly listened. Most of the conversation was led by Oara.

They sat haphazardly, using a tree stump as a table. Perhaps because of the pleasant weather, there wasn't anything to feel uncomfortable about.

The breeze was cool, and the liquor was pleasantly mild.

The only snack was jerky, but it wasn't bad.

"His name's Jericks."

After hearing the full explanation, Enkrid thought it was quite the eccentric hobby.

Why give a name to a monster living in the demonic realm?

Not that it was his place to comment, so he refrained from adding any sarcasm.

It happened during Oara's days as a squire.

She had fallen in love with a man and hoped to marry him, living closely together. But one day, the man succumbed to his wanderlust and left.

He had been a strikingly handsome bard, Oara said with pride.

Enkrid resisted the urge to ask if that was something to boast about.

"Men should look like me."

Roman chimed in, and Rem nodded in agreement. However, Oara paid them no mind.

"It's because of that bastard I became a knight."

If heartbreak alone could make someone a knight, Enkrid thought he wouldn't mind enduring a thousand breakups.

Of course, Oara's path to knighthood couldn't have been solely because of her foolish fiancé.

Rumors said Jerick had gone on to leave dozens of women heartbroken wherever he wandered.

The conversation continued for a bit longer, punctuated by quiet moments when they emptied their cups.

The liquor wasn't particularly strong, just right for a relaxing drink.

After days of humidity, the crisp night breeze, the majestic castle walls seen earlier in the morning, the stories, the drinks—everything came together to create a perfect evening.

"Before I die, I'm going to wipe out that demonic realm."

Oara's sudden declaration struck a chord with Enkrid.

Even if she were to die, she seemed determined to rid the world of the demonic realm before that happened.

Interpreting it in his own way, Enkrid thought her words carried a peculiar depth. Then Oara dusted herself off and stood up.

"Good night."

With those words, the two junior knights departed.

"Don't you think she looks like she might charge into the demonic realm any minute now?"

Rem had a sharp eye for such things and seemed to sense the same feeling Enkrid did.

"She does."

But could the demonic realm be dealt with so easily, just by closing it off?

Killing the central monster would end it?

Would defeating that monster really be that simple?

Unlikely.

If it were that easy, someone would have already armed themselves, entered the demonic realm, and slain the monster.

Oara seemed to be waiting for the right moment.

And perhaps she was hoping that moment would come soon.

But that wasn't something Enkrid needed to dwell on now.

He, too, dusted himself off, brushing away the dirt before heading to the well beside the house they used as lodgings. There, he quickly washed up.

When he returned, he saw Dunbakel lying on the bed, having not bathed in days.

Her boots, caked in dirt, and her disheveled clothes stood out starkly. She had stripped down completely, wrapping herself in only a thin blanket.

Sensing his gaze, Dunbakel opened her eyes.

"Want to hold me?"

"Shall I wash you instead?"

"I'm asleep. I'm already asleep."

Dunbakel spoke with her eyes tightly shut.

Since it had been a good day, Enkrid decided to postpone any further nagging until tomorrow.

It was a fortunate thing for Dunbakel.

"You seem to be in a good mood."

Luagarne, who had become an expert at reading Enkrid's expressions, commented. She was settling down on her bed after finishing her meditation.

 Luagarne prayed to the Frog deity every few days, and today must have been one of those days.

Otherwise, she might have joined them for a drink and a chat.

Luagarne enjoyed mingling with humans, especially Enkrid.

From her perspective, there was much to see, interesting conversations to be had, and enough unpredictability in his actions to make it entertaining.

"Do I seem like it?"

Enkrid asked in return, nodding. It had indeed been a good day, even by his own measure.

After replying, he lay down. Sleepiness soon overtook him. With a thought about his good fortune, he quickly drifted into slumber.

Not long after, he woke up.

It wasn't his usual waking time—not even midnight.

Screeches echoed from afar. Not human cries, but undoubtedly the wails of monsters.

"Relish this as well."

A ferryman appeared in his dream, but only briefly.

Whether real or imagined, it felt like only a fleeting moment.

As soon as he heard the screeches, Enkrid jolted awake and grabbed his sword.

He began gearing up immediately—armor, dagger sheath, three swords, shield, and javelins.

"What's that noise?"

Rem woke up as well, equipping himself at a pace similar to Enkrid's.

Dunbakel and Luagarne did the same.

When they stepped outside, they saw a commander leading twenty soldiers.

The soldiers were all armed with longbows, with shortswords, axes, or iron-tipped clubs at their waists.

"Did the noise wake you?"

Marching in unison, the twenty soldiers moved at a deliberate pace. The commander in front raised his fist and asked. At his gesture, the soldiers slowed their steps.

Their demeanor seemed almost too calm.

Thinking this, Enkrid responded.

"I heard a strange screech."

It was an unusual scream.

"That's probably the Screaming Spider. With the recent increase in spider hatchlings, something must have stirred things up inside the labyrinth again."

The commander remained calm. This was clearly not the first time such an incident had occurred.

Hoo-ooo-ooo.

An owl's call echoed from the distance.

"Seems like an Owlbear's here too," the commander remarked. His demeanor was unchanged, steady and unperturbed.

"Well then."

He raised his right hand to his waist in a military salute before moving forward.

The twenty soldiers quickened their pace slightly, ensuring the formation stayed intact.

Enkrid followed closely behind them.

"Impressive composure," Rem commented from behind.

"That's to be expected," Luagarne added. "This is the borderland. Such battles are part of their daily lives."

She glanced at the two moons above Enkrid's head. Clouds gathered on one side, threatening to obscure the moons at any moment.

It'll get quite dark soon, she thought as they pressed forward, finally reaching the western gate.

"Hey, over here."

Dunbakel stepped closer to Enkrid, walking beside him as she spoke.

"What is it?"

Dunbakel's nose twitched repeatedly. She had caught a peculiar scent—less a smell and more a signal.

It was a scent only she could detect, one that had led others to call her a liar in the past. While beastkin often used scents as signals, they found it hard to accept this unique ability of hers.

Occasionally, certain monsters used scent as signals, much like humans used sound. Scent was just another sensory mechanism, akin to hearing.

Thus, just because others couldn't smell it didn't mean it didn't exist.

She had been ridiculed for mentioning this before. After that, she never spoke of it again—she wasn't about to be mocked as a fool a second time.

Should I mention it now?

Enkrid's gaze briefly met hers. As always, his eyes burned with the single-minded intensity of a madman.

If she voiced her thoughts, what would he say?

"Believe it or not, I don't care. If I want to say it, I'll say it."

Imagining Enkrid's blunt encouragement in her head, Dunbakel spoke up.

"There's something out there—something that uses scents as signals."

Enkrid didn't ask for further explanation. He simply accepted the information. He didn't bother questioning its truth.

For now, he trusted her. She was one of his people. If he didn't trust her, who would?

Dunbakel felt reassured by his response, and Luagarne chimed in.

"Monsters communicating with each other isn't all that uncommon."

It was an answer born of experience.

Caw!

A raven flew overhead, its cry resembling a horrific scream.

It sounded as if it were fleeing something.

As the group finally reached the western wall, they saw what lay ahead.

"Fire!"

Just as Enkrid anticipated, the soldiers atop the wall were unleashing a barrage of arrows.

With a wall, knights, and squires at their disposal, such tactics were to be expected.

"Draw your bows!"

"Hold your fire! Wait! Wait!"

"Use fire arrows only! Light the area!"

The commander's voice boomed above the chaos.

Darkness blanketed the surroundings; it was, after all, the dead of night. The flickering red glow of the torches cast shifting shadows over the wall.

It almost looked as if shadowy monsters were leaping at them.

Reaching the wall, Enkrid climbed the stairs.

He passed a soldier carrying a bundle of arrows, ascending the narrow staircase with measured, unhurried steps. Calm and composed.

"No real trouble, it seems," Rem observed.

Enkrid said nothing, focusing instead on assessing the situation.

Once atop the wall, he saw the commander shouting orders, veins bulging in his neck.

"Fire!"

At his command, the sharp twang of bowstrings resonated as over twenty archers loosed their arrows.

Whoosh!

Arrows arced gracefully through the air, cutting through moonlight before descending.

By that faint moonlight, a swarm of spiders crawling across the ground became visible.

They were as large as humans—giant spiders, unmistakably monsters.

"Giant Spiders," Luagarne muttered.

Although it was her first time seeing them, Enkrid had heard of these creatures before.

But weren't Giant Spiders supposed to only grow as tall as a person's knee?

Enkrid estimated their size. From atop the wall, they seemed smaller, but on the ground, their heads might reach up to his waist.

While Enkrid was still studying the creatures, a voice called out to him.

"You're here?"

It was Oara. She stood atop the wall, arms crossed, calling him over.

Enkrid approached.

"Looks like sleep's out of the question tonight," she said.

"Seems that way," he replied.

Despite not being drunk, he felt a trace of fatigue. It was natural to feel tired after missing proper sleep.

Oara felt the same.

Knights might be superhuman in many respects, but that didn't mean they could forgo sleep or food entirely. They were skilled killers, not beings beyond human needs.

Enkrid understood this well.

Still, he believed he could manage—he could endure two sleepless nights and remain functional. It might slightly throw off his balance when wielding his sword, but for now, he trusted himself to stay sharp.

Knights, of course, were expected to endure even more.

But looking at Oara's face, he noticed the signs of fatigue—dark circles under her eyes, bloodshot whites, and pale skin.

She looked like a peasant woman returning home after a day's labor in the fields.

Was it from a few weak drinks? Or simply from lack of sleep?

Either way, it seemed excessive.

"It's supposed to be the day of rest," Oara murmured. The religious symbol around her neck swayed, its blue gem gleaming faintly in the dark.

Enkrid's mind raced.

Day of rest, knights, labyrinth, dreams, Jerix, borderland again, Thousand Stones, Roman mimicking the knights' swords...

"I'm going to clear out that borderland before I die," someone had once said to him.

The thought clicked into place.

"Are you unwell?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Oara blinked a few times.

"Huh?"

"You're not sick?"

She realized again how observant and relentless this man was, despite his calm exterior.

"Sharp as always. Roman didn't notice for six months," she muttered.

While Roman was also quite perceptive, he had been slower to catch on. Oara had hidden it well.

Pulling her cloak around herself to shield from others' view, she lifted her shirt slightly.

Beneath the soft fabric, veins protruded faintly across her abdomen, a faint bluish hue showing under her skin.

"It's poison," she stated flatly.

At her words, the clouds finally swallowed the moon, plunging the world into darkness.

Fwoosh.

A gust of wind stirred the torches, their flames flickering as Oara's shadow seemed to split apart.

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