Chapter 660 - The Ragged Saint
"They also call me the Ragged Saint. Pardon my late introduction—I was playing with this child."
Of course, "playing" wasn't quite the right word. In reality, he had been teaching Seiki how to handle divinity.
Divine power had naturally manifested in Seiki's body without any formal training.
If she didn't learn how to control it soon, it might end up harming her instead.
That was why Audin had sought out his adoptive father, the Ragged Saint.
That was also why he had arrived here only now—because, to him, saving the child named Seiki right in front of him took priority.
Next to the man who called himself a saint, Seiki raised a hand in greeting and said,
"I think you've become even more of a monster."
From the moment she first saw him, Seiki had been an exceptionally talented child.
Her sharp perception was the foundation of that talent, and once again, he had noticed the change in Enkrid.
Even if he hadn't, the constant talk around him made it impossible not to hear about it.
"I heard the captain of the demon squad broke hundreds of women's hearts and then awakened."
"No, it's because he drank the blood of fairies."
"Can you really get like that just by training like a madman?"
Ridiculous rumors were running rampant, but Seiki, while pure, was not naive.
She could tell fact from fiction.
"I was joking about becoming a Holy Knight."
Audin's adoptive father, the so-called saint, spoke again.
His voice was calm, and a faint, modest smile appeared on his face.
He patted Audin's thick arm in a familiar gesture, showing their closeness.
Audin merely lifted the corners of his mouth slightly in his usual gentle smile.
To Enkrid, Seiki's abilities seemed different from before, but more than that, his attention was drawn to the saint's appearance.
Despite being called the "Ragged Saint," his attire was anything but ragged.
Ting.
The man extended a hand for a handshake, and as he did, Enkrid noticed the thick gold bracelet on his wrist and the rings adorning all five of his fingers—rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and more.
A large pendant hanging from his necklace held four embedded jewels, and the circular plate securing them seemed to have silver mixed in.
His clothes, made of smooth, high-quality silk, were the kind of fabric even minor nobles wouldn't dare dream of wearing.
"Even a poor noble wouldn't be able to afford those clothes."
Enkrid recalled that Andrew, a noble himself, still only wore coarse clothing.
The last time Enkrid saw him, that hadn't changed.
Andrew had once mentioned needing a formal outfit for special occasions, so he had reluctantly bought one.
"If I cut down on clothes and food expenses, the people of my territory will have one more piece of meat in their meals. There's no room for luxury."
That was something Andrew often said.
Given that he was still in the process of rebuilding House Gardener, it was an entirely reasonable stance.
Living that way was difficult, of course.
But Andrew, having learned discipline from watching Enkrid, had no trouble staying committed to his goal.
The Ragged Saint blinked his cloudy eyes.
His vision was clearly impaired, something evident even without anyone pointing it out.
"You should believe in God. Even if you don't become a Holy Knight, faith is still important."
It was a beautiful day.
The bright, clear spring weather filled the air. As the cold receded, blades of grass peeked out from between the trees shattered and splintered during Enkrid's training matches with Rem.
Beyond the serene atmosphere, Enkrid felt the gazes of Rem and Ragna watching from a distance.
They had looked over at the Ragged Saint but showed little interest beyond that.
Jaxen had gone out early in the morning for some business, and Esther was still in her panther form.
Enkrid had planned to head down to the city after finishing his morning training, but on his way, this so-called saint had blocked his path.
"And what about you? You don't believe in God either?"
Then he added,
"Not particularly."
Enkrid answered bluntly.
His tone wasn't disrespectful—he was simply stating the truth.
The saint's words and demeanor weren't particularly irritating, but they weren't exactly pleasant to hear, either.
His voice was rough, and his face was covered in age spots.
But his outfit...
"If he walked into a temple dressed like that, wouldn't he look like a bishop leeching off the faithful?"
While Enkrid was thinking that, the saint opened his mouth again.
"Audin."
"Yes?"
"If I told you to kill this friend of yours right now, what would you do?"
The Ragged Saint said it with the same smiling face.
Enkrid didn't intervene.
It wasn't a matter of whether Audin would or wouldn't comply with his adoptive father's words.
"Krais."
That was the kind of person this saint seemed to be—like Krais, Abnaier, and Ermen.
People like them always hid multiple meanings in their words.
Their intentions were layered and complex.
Enkrid found it difficult to pinpoint a single meaning behind the saint's words—he was someone even more enigmatic than Krais.
"He might be more troublesome than Krais."
He also seemed to conceal more than Ermen did.
Still, Audin maintained his smile and replied,
"Have you lost your mind?"
At that, the saint burst into laughter.
"Not yet."
"If you're feeling unwell, there are healers who use divine power right next to you, as well as alchemists who make potions."
Enkrid spoke.
The saint chuckled again and shook his head.
"No, no."
"This old man is better at using divine power than me."
Seiki added from the side.
Audin dismissed the saint's words without much thought.
"I've always enjoyed spouting nonsense. Consider it a sacred joke, brother."
So, in addition to fairy jokes, were there also sacred jokes?
Enkrid let it pass without concern, but the Ragged Saint suddenly stepped closer and said,
"I hear you're headed to the blacksmith. Mind if I come along? Seiki, you should practice what I taught you morning and night."
"Prayer? That's boring."
Seiki pouted.
"You must endure the boredom and cultivate patience. Only then will you be able to use it properly."
The Ragged Saint raised his hand and gently patted Seiki's shoulder as he spoke.
Earlier, he had looked like a bishop sucking the lifeblood of the faithful.
Now, he looked like a wise sage. The gold and jewels draped over him shimmered like a halo.
"Well then, I'll be off. Audin."
"I don't recall giving my permission yet."
Enkrid responded, unwavering against the saint's pace.
At that, the old man immediately let loose a torrent of words.
"If you don't allow it, I was planning to secretly follow from a distance. Are you really going to treat a blind old man so harshly? Did I misjudge you? Or is it that a young man like you is itching to mock this old man?"
At this moment, he didn't seem like a sage but rather a stubborn old man throwing a tantrum.
"You have quite a way with words," Enkrid replied.
"How do you think a poor wanderer like me has survived all this time?"
"By wielding divinity?"
"Well, you got me there. Though, I have made good use of it."
He spoke as if he had been caught off guard, though his expression showed no signs of it.
"I heard you pretend to be blind?"
"Audin, you really do say the strangest things."
The ragged saint scolded Audin.
"Was that supposed to be a secret?"
"Not exactly."
It wasn't quite a comedy routine, but the conversation was getting long-winded. Enkrid had no particular reason to refuse him, and he also felt the desire to observe this so-called saint up close, so he came to a conclusion.
"Come along."
"Please don't treat him too harshly. If you have concerns, he might be of help. Brother."
Audin gave a small bow of gratitude. Watching from a distance, Rem called out loudly.
"Are you heading to order a shield from that guy, Aetri? If so, get something sturdy."
"Yeah, sure."
Enkrid replied nonchalantly and turned away.
"If you spot any assassins targeting me, feel free to take care of them."
The ragged saint, now walking beside him, said,
"What kind of things have you done to attract assassins?"
"Well, I've been exposed recently. Officially, I'm supposed to be dead in Legion, but now people know I'm alive. There's no shortage of people wanting to kill me."
"You must have accumulated quite a few grudges."
"Not that many. Maybe just over ten."
"You call that 'not many'?"
"It's not."
People had different perspectives, after all. Enkrid saw no need to argue further.
Audin watched the two leave.
He knew what kind of man his foster father was.
He wasn't someone who would bring harm to others.
So letting him go off alone with that old man wouldn't be a problem.
At worst, he might just play some mischievous pranks.
Audin recalled the first time his foster father came to Border Guard and met him.
"You've lifted the restrictions, drawn forth divinity again. Now let's see… Looks like you've found a place to settle. Feeling better now?"
"I'm improving, little by little."
"The hallucinations are still there?"
"They come by occasionally, chat a bit, and leave."
Since he had already confessed about the visions of the boy who was dragged in as a saint and killed, his father already knew.
Hearing Audin's words, his father chuckled and patted him once on the shoulder.
The question he had thrown at the commander earlier was the same one he had once asked Audin.
There was no way his father would ever tell him to kill Enkrid.
He must have wanted the commander to understand that.
That Audin's allegiance wasn't to the temple, but to the Madmen Knights Order.
'I don't need to say it. He already knows. He will understand.'
There was no need to emphasize it to Enkrid.
***
"I know Audin is with the Madmen Knights Order."
As he left the barracks, Enkrid returned the salute of the guards and spoke.
"Just a precaution."
It was his way of saying that he understood the real meaning behind what he had told Audin earlier.
The ragged saint also knew.
As the saint walked, tapping his staff against the ground, two figures came to Enkrid's mind simultaneously.
One was the blind old man who had once called himself an apostle. Their appearances were different, but the way they concealed their thoughts, the cunning beneath their expressions—it was similar.
'But they're not the same.'
Their auras were entirely different.
The old man who had left him that letter as an apostle had a chilling presence, whereas this one did not.
If this old man was truly hiding such a murderous aura, then he was more skilled than Jaxen.
But Enkrid's instincts told him otherwise.
And the second figure—
'Why does he remind me of him?'
For some reason, this old man brought to mind the King of the East.
Two entirely different people, living entirely different lives.
"Go take care of your business."
The saint spoke.
There was no need for him to say it; Enkrid was already planning to do just that.
The two walked at a leisurely pace through the marketplace, heading toward Aetri's forge.
Clang! Ssss, ssss!
The hammer striking metal rang out, and the heat from the bellows made the air sweltering.
"I'm here."
Aetri was standing off to the side, while his apprentice handled the forging.
"You must have a story to tell."
Aetri said.
He had been waiting for Enkrid for days without even picking up his hammer.
"I was grateful for the lucky charm. It saved my life."
That lucky charm, a short blade had altered the trajectory of the last sword the One-killer had thrown.
Thanks to it, Shinar didn't die.
If Shinar had died there, what would he have done?
Would he have killed himself just to go back?
No, Enkrid wouldn't have done that.
His heart would have been torn apart, and he might have shed tears, but he would have kept walking toward tomorrow.
That was the path Enkrid had chosen.
To never repeat today.
To push forward, no matter what.
Shinar could have died.
Though the chances were low, it wasn't impossible.
The demon had tried to tempt him by showing him his entire life.
Perhaps the goal was to corrupt him completely, to turn him into something else.
If Shinar had fallen into that and lost herself, Enkrid would have beaten her unconscious, dragged her back, done whatever it took to bring her back to her senses.
Even if he vowed never to repeat today, he wouldn't give up.
That was the path Enkrid walked.
And so, he was simply grateful.
That sword of fortune had blocked every possibility of tragedy.
"That was fortunate. Really."
"I'm glad you liked it. I also received the items you sent."
Enkrid had sent all the weapons and armor he had taken from the cultists to Aetri.
While Enkrid had only just arrived after honing his swordsmanship, Aetri also needed time to research and experiment with the metals.
It was a necessary period for both of them.
"Well then."
Aetri spoke as he brought over a table and two teacups.
Taking a sip of tea, Enkrid briefly looked outside the forge.
There was no door, just an open entrance, beyond which the so-called Ragged Saint was loitering.
Across the street, a tree stood still, its flower buds beginning to emerge.
A spring breeze blew, but the heat from the forge pushed it back.
As he gazed outside, Enkrid briefly conveyed what he knew.
It had seemed like a long story in his mind, but when spoken aloud, it wasn't that lengthy.
After listening to everything, Aetri fell into deep thought before finally speaking.
"Come back in a month."
"Understood."
There was nothing more to discuss.
Even the tale of how he had broken his True Silver sword hadn't surprised Aetri.
Throughout their conversation, his assistant had never stopped swinging the hammer even once.
Enkrid liked watching that.
It seemed as if the assistant was also walking his own path.
"And the Frog?"
"Out. Went to gather materials."
"I see."
He could meet him next time.
As he stepped outside, the Ragged Saint spoke.
"Aren't you hungry? I heard there's some fantastic spiced jerky for sale around here."
"Yes, they sell it."
"Buy me some."
"Alright."
Without delay, the two headed toward the street lined with restaurants selling spiced jerky.
Krais had reorganized the city's layout, creating separate districts: one for restaurants and inns, and another for forges and craftsmen.
At the city's center, four inns served as a hub for public carriages.
Anyone could ride for just a small fare of krona, with sturdy donkeys pulling the carriages instead of horses.
The carriages had no roofs and were large enough to carry up to ten people at a time.
But there was no need for the two of them to take one.
The Ragged Saint had no trouble walking, and for Enkrid, that went without saying.
"You must be looking forward to the craftsman's work, right?"
The Ragged Saint asked as they walked, referring to Enkrid's visit to Aetri.
"Yes, very much."
With that brief exchange, they walked diligently until they arrived in front of a shop grilling jerky.
Next to it was another shop selling marmalade.
"Just the smell is making my mouth water."
They ate heartily and then grabbed drinks from the adjacent shop.
As they wandered the city, a few people recognized Enkrid.
And the Saint observed everything.
***
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