Encrid sat down on the ground only after Krais had left.
His legs gave out, and he couldn't stand any longer.
With a thud, his rear hit the floor.
A heavy shock traveled up through his glutes.
'This feels harder than being surrounded by a thousand soldiers.'
A day spent struggling against a horde that burdened his body was even worse.
Of course, that made sense.
All he did was swing his sword once.
However, the exhaustion that hit in such a short moment was severe.
Dizziness washed over him, and his mouth went dry.
He felt drained.
It was as if all the strength had been sapped from his muscles.
Not to mention the pain in his dislocated shoulder.
Today was nothing like earlier.
Compared to the time, the difference was ridiculous.
The ferryman hadn't been singing of despair for no reason.
Sometimes, it almost seemed like he'd start composing poetry and singing along with it.
Still, Encrid managed.
No, to be more accurate, he took control of the situation.
He flipped the concept of endurance on its head.
By striking first, he got through that 'one moment'.
In the end, it wasn't much different from catching a Knight's sword.
Ultimately, his dislocated shoulder and trembling body survived, proving he'd overcome it.
'Luck.'
Luck played a part, but more than that, it was ingenuity and effort.
Encrid tried to lay back, but someone stopped him.
"Careful of the brazier."
It was Sinar's hand.
If he lay down, his burnt back would only get worse.
Her palm gently supported the back of his head.
Though not all of his hair had burned off, charred strands crumbled away, falling like graphite dust to the ground.
"What a sight."
Sinar said, her eyes fixed on where the Knight had disappeared.
"Yes, quite a sight."
Encrid replied, staring at the same spot.
"Unbelievable."
Ragna murmured quietly to himself.
Hearing that from Ragna made it clear just how unreal and inhumanly strong the Knight was.
If Ragna of all people called it unbelievable.
Ragna had caught the Knight's sword and once again confirmed the path ahead.
Now that the opportunity had opened up, the path became clearer.
So the task at hand was equally clear.
Keep up the current momentum.
Fortunately, there was no need to put in extra effort to do that.
"Next time."
Encrid was already muttering to himself.
He was already looking forward to the next time he could face the Knight's sword and talk of glory.
Ragna felt a sudden impulse not to fall behind that.
It was quite amusing.
So he laughed.
"Why are you laughing after getting smacked like that?"
The Captain asked, throwing out a casual remark.
"And why are you laughing, Captain?"
Encrid, despite the question, smiled back.
Even with a burned back and collapsed body, he laughed.
"If you want to laugh, just laugh. Hahaha!"
Dunbachel chimed in from the side.
No one responded to her words.
* * *
The Knight, Jamal, left with Krais as his guide.
No one stopped them.
"Orders from Captain Encrid. Step aside. Don't block them. Clear the way, clear the way."
Krais led the way, making room for them.
Right now, the name 'Encrid' in the camp was like a sharp sword that could cut through anything.
Who would dare stand in the way of that?
Even Battalion Commander Garrett couldn't do anything, so it was no different from holding power founded on the soldiers' respect.
Still, there were a few soldiers who glared with murderous intent from time to time.
The Knight's calm, composed demeanor must have rubbed them the wrong way.
Wherever you go, there are always soldiers with ferocious temperaments.
"Come out."
Krais deliberately glared.
Knight Jamal paid no attention to the surrounding events.
Why should he care? The soldiers around him were the type he could cut down if they dared to challenge him.
It wasn't an honorable thing to do, so he wouldn't be the first to act, but if someone attacked, he'd have no hesitation in striking and cutting them down.
Fortunately, no one stepped forward to challenge him, so Jamal asked with genuine curiosity.
"Is that sort of madness his usual?"
There was no need to specify who he was talking about.
Krais quickly understood.
Jamal, no matter how much he thought about it, was convinced that Encrid had deliberately challenged him.
Since Encrid had asked for his affiliation, it didn't seem like he knew exactly who Jamal was, but he must have recognized his skill.
That's why he had swung his sword filled with such 'Will' so suddenly.
The sword came down with overwhelming force, and Jamal had no choice but to block it.
It had been a long time since he'd been forced to swing his sword like that.
It was a refreshing experience.
Avnair would be bewildered if he knew, but sometimes there's just no avoiding things.
That was the question at the end of his thoughts.
Was that guy normally this crazy?
'If it had been even slightly off...'
Encrid would have been dead.
In essence, Encrid had risked his life in that strike.
Regardless of the talk of honor, it was a sword that had found a tiny gap to slip through.
If Jamal's judgment had been even slightly delayed.
If he had shifted the direction even a little.
'He would have died.'
And yet, had there been any hesitation in his opponent's sword?
Even though it was a strike that risked his own life, how could he show no regret?
Jamal had said it was a Crushing Sword.
For just a brief moment, Encrid's sword lived up to that name.
It had crushed him.
Forced him to react.
Seeing that, how could he view his opponent as normal?
A Knight is still a person, subject to fear and instinct.
But Encrid seemed like someone who had strayed from the normal path.
Indeed, a Knight's insight was something special.
With just one clash of swords, Jamal had seen all he needed to.
Krais carefully chose his words in response.
"You have keen eyes. Yes, he is a madman."
Krais inwardly admired the Knight's intuition.
Wasn't his instinct remarkable?
To recognize the Captain's madness in just one glance.
"I see."
The Knight left.
Jamal had no further questions.
It was grim news, but he had delivered his message and it was time to return to his original position.
Would this event be the catalyst for Naurillia to wage a full-scale war?
Since a Knight had drawn his sword, the repercussions would surely be significant.
* * *
Garrett barged into the ruined tent, arriving belatedly.
Coming only after the area was secure.
His survival instincts weren't any weaker than Krais's.
"What on earth happened?"
Despite everything, his face still showed signs of surprise.
Encrid explained everything, and Garrett chose not to spread the word.
There was no benefit in letting it be known that a Knight had come and gone.
Should he really tell the soldiers who thought they had just won and that it was all over that a Knight might come back and cut their throats?
Even if he reassured them that the Knight wouldn't return, it was another matter for them to accept it emotionally.
Those present here seemed to have already set aside their worries, though.
Additionally, there was another reason Garrett couldn't speak.
"I need to report this to Central first."
That was Garrett's response.
Krais, who had just returned after seeing off the Knight, narrowed his eyes at those words.
"Couldn't we just let this blow over? Is that right?"
"That's not for us to decide."
Garrett replied.
Krais furrowed his brow.
The stench of politics was thick in the air.
Could something else arise from this incident?
It certainly would.
'Political advantage.'
It was Aspen who first broke the pact.
Though it wasn't a non-aggression treaty, hadn't they been told not to cross the line for a while?
They ignored that, crossed the border, and lost.
And now they even sent a Knight?
There's no way this can be swept under the rug.
Most likely, this event would allow Naurillia to gain significant political leverage.
In exchange for covering up the Knight's involvement, they would likely also secure a condition of no immediate war.
It was all too obvious to Krais.
While it wasn't something he'd be directly involved in, it wasn't entirely irrelevant either.
Politics may stink, but if there's something to gain, why not take advantage?
'From the perspective of the Border Guard.'
It would be a huge gain.
If Krais played his cards right, he could profit as well.
His mind naturally turned toward ways to earn Krona.
"Well then, for now, get treated."
Garrett said, clapping his hands lightly.
The sound drew everyone's attention, and Garrett stepped outside to give some orders. Soon after, a group of soldiers arrived to clean up the tent, which had been wrecked in the commotion.
Two medics worked on Encrid's dislocated shoulder, setting it back in place.
Despite the severe pain, Encrid remained calm.
The sound of his bones snapping back together was loud enough to make Dunbachel frown in discomfort.
It was an unpleasant noise, even just to hear.
"...Doesn't that hurt?"
One of the medics asked, unable to hold back the question.
They'd heard of rare conditions where a person couldn't feel pain from birth.
For a moment, they wondered if Encrid had such an illness.
"No, it hurts."
Encrid replied.
"But you didn't make a sound."
"Crying out doesn't make it hurt any less, does it?"
While that wasn't wrong, people are people.
When you're in pain, it's natural to let out a groan or a scream.
"You're impressive in many ways, Captain."
But why did they keep calling him Captain?
He didn't have the energy to respond.
Though Encrid didn't moan or scream, he did end up bedridden with a fever for two days.
During that time, Aspen's forces withdrew and returned.
Encrid overheard the news in a half-asleep state.
It seemed like this time he'd truly pushed his body to its limits.
Not that it was necessarily a bad thing.
While he was feverish, he met the ferryman again.
"Don't get cocky."
The ferryman said.
Encrid felt a bit wronged.
He hadn't said a word, just sat there idly on the boat, staring at the dark waters.
For a brief moment, he had even thought the pitch-black river was a sight worth seeing.
If he considered it a landscape, maybe it could be seen differently, depending on one's mindset.
"You're being arrogant."
The ferryman spoke again.
There was no other conversation.
There wasn't much else to say.
"The wall will always stand before you."
The ferryman said for the third time.
Encrid nodded at those words.
It had always been like that, and it would continue to be.
They called it a curse.
But Encrid didn't see it as a curse.
For him, it was an opportunity.
An opportunity that allowed him to bridge the gap between those with talent and those without.
An opportunity that brought him to where he was now.
An opportunity that allowed him to face the Knight's sword.
He didn't know why, but suddenly, Encrid wanted to say something.
"Thank you."
As always, it was a genuine expression.
The ferryman was unlike other people.
Even with the sudden remark, he wasn't startled.
That was it.
Then the dream ended.
When he awoke from his fever, the first thing he saw was Dunbachel, dozing off in front of him.
What's she doing here again?
He felt something cool on his forehead.
It was a damp cloth.
It was nicely refreshing.
It seemed she had been changing the cloth regularly.
"Hey, lie down and sleep."
Encrid said.
"Oh, I just dozed off for a moment."
Dunbachel wiped away some drool as she opened her eyes.
She blinked a few times and yawned, then scratched her cheek vigorously.
Then, with an awkward—though it didn't really look shy, but Encrid guessed that for a beastfolk, this might be what shyness looked like—soft voice, while scratching her neck with her nails, she said something ridiculous.
"I feel like I'm taking care of a sick little brother."
"Aren't I older than you?"
"Yeah, well... but I'm going to get stronger. Strong enough that even if another bastard like that comes around, I'll tear them apart. So don't die."
For a brief moment, Dunbachel had glimpsed Encrid's potential death.
Her beastfolk survival instincts were in turmoil.
If she challenged that Knight, she knew she'd die.
But even so, Encrid had charged forward.
Even in the face of an enemy who seemed like death itself, Encrid had fought.
Dunbachel reflected on how she hadn't stepped up in that moment.
She felt a pang of self-reproach.
'I haven't changed.'
That was the worst.
Wasn't she supposed to have stayed here to live differently than the days when she survived by the edge of a thief's blade?
But she didn't want to die.
At the crossroads of two paths, she hadn't chosen either.
So, what should she do?
'Become really strong.'
It was her conclusion, in her own way.
There was no need to dwell on the past with a sinking heart—she would move forward.
After all, wasn't that what she had learned from watching that crazy Captain, Encrid?
"Just don't die yourself."
Encrid said instinctively.
After he had been struck down, or when he couldn't move, Dunbachel had charged at the Knight's sword countless times with a twisted expression.
It was clear just from watching that she had fought knowing she was going to die.
Yet she still charged.
What had driven her?
"You're pushing yourself too hard..."
"I will get stronger. Sniff. So, if you ever need a woman's warmth, just say the word. I'll lie down with you."
Before Encrid could even finish speaking, Dunbachel's tongue was already wagging.
Had she learned this from Rem, speaking without care for anyone else's words? It was hard to say how she had picked up such a habit.
"Esther is enough for me."
A panther was already nestled comfortably in Encrid's arms.
Eyes that resembled a blue lake stared at Dunbachel.
Dunbachel looked back at Esther with her golden eyes and said,
"No monopolizing."
What was that supposed to mean?
"Snort."
Esther let out something resembling a scoff.
Was it just his imagination, or did she seem to be saying, 'Try to take him if you can'?
Dunbachel left it at that and withdrew.
After a little more rest, Encrid woke to the sounds of commotion outside the camp.
Aspen had retreated, so it was a victory.
That meant it was time for the party to begin.
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