Heskal, Heskal, truly a clever person. He had harmed several people while leaving and also sowed discord.
'One side saw Heskal kill their friends.'
Their eyes would have turned red with rage, trembling with betrayal.
"I saw it myself. Riley."
As if they would draw and swing their swords at any moment.
"Damn it, if it wasn't for father, you would have died last year!"
The other side hadn't seen Heskal directly act. And Heskal had lived a devoted life in Zaun all this time.
He saved, cherished, loved, and raised children.
That child became a pillar of one of those groups. A friend who limped with one leg but had swordsmanship as excellent as Anahera of the giant race. His name was Riley Zaun.
Had Heskal personally created the one-legged swordsmanship technique?
Enkrid had also sparred with him several times. It was quite enjoyable to face his unique rhythmic sword swings.
If he had to categorize it, it would be called the Finisher style.
'He wasn't ordinary.'
This wasn't because he was lame.
Among those here in Zaun, most possessed talent that might make them knights if luck followed. All those within Zaun's walls were like that.
A system for geniuses—teachings for the talented who maintained their drive for improvement and advanced forward again and again.
That was the basic requirement to remain in Zaun.
'What if you wanted to endure without talent?'
He naturally thought by substituting himself, but there was no answer. There were no teachings for the mediocre here.
To maintain drive for improvement, someone had to care for you, but not just anyone would oversee your swordsmanship just because you begged to be taught.
Teaching methods varied, but there were no teachers who would passionately teach when the learning side couldn't keep up.
'It's not like they're looking for Krona.'
They simply enjoyed watching those with brilliant talent shine.
Therefore, ordinary people or those worse would have no opportunity to learn.
Cold, but that's why the current Zaun existed.
But were all people the same? Did Zaun only have those who looked at swordsmanship?
Among the Frok, there were those who made jewelry, and there were dwarves who had sold their craftsman's pride to some tavern wench despite being dwarves. In the Border Guard, there was even a giant who wanted to become a merchant.
'People are not all the same.'
This was what he had learned through life.
Heskal's son was special in that regard. No one thought he possessed outstanding talent.
Riley existed now because someone had persistently taught and cared for him.
It would be painful to repeat that the person who made a lame cripple into a swordsman, the person who cared for him like that, was named Heskal.
Whoooosh—
The sensitive knight's senses said the downpour had become lighter than before. It made sense. If rain like that continued to pour, the entire continent could be submerged and there would be nothing to say.
The land of Zaun, situated atop the basin, had gone beyond absorbing water to become thoroughly soaked and muddy, with splashing mud dirtying boots and pants.
The Head, Tempest Zaun, had said what needed to be done now was enemy search and combat, but.
'At this level, the enemy will show themselves.'
They would do so at the moment and place they wanted. The right to determine the start of battle had become the opposing side's exclusive privilege.
They hadn't revealed themselves while Zaun had, so it was natural.
Combat would come later.
From Enkrid's perspective, the more urgent matter was calming the internal discord first, so he was watching to see what the Head would do.
Ragna, who had approached, received a rough explanation from Rynox and said:
"There was someone with Odinkar's face."
Meaning there was someone who had arbitrarily changed faces. The meaning contained in those words was the same as Ragna also asking back whether Heskal really did such things.
Even Ragna, who had only seen him in childhood and a few times since coming here, seemed unable to believe Heskal had done that.
Heskal had instilled that much trust.
"It was Heskal."
The Head answered, dismissing the pointless questions and answers that would go back and forth. It meant he understood all the meaning in Ragna's words, so there was no hesitation in his answer.
Enkrid didn't know, but the Head also knew Ragna's party had been attacked and had estimated the process in reverse order.
It wasn't his own front yard, but it was something that happened nearby.
Fooling all the eyes of those patrolling the area?
Even he couldn't do that. Therefore, the conclusion was that there were collaborators.
But he couldn't guess how far the collaborators extended or what the reason for this was.
'Then what can I do?'
The Head asked and answered himself. When you lose your way in training swordsmanship, what should you do?
'Wait until the path becomes visible.'
Whether swordsmanship or life, it was the same to him. It was the same thing.
Year after year, even as his illness deepened, the Head exercised patience.
Tempest had paler emotional colors than ordinary people. He couldn't easily empathize with others' emotions. Therefore, fickleness became the word that least suited him. It meant he possessed patience that could be counted among the best on the continent. It was a peculiarity brought by emotional deficiency.
Additionally, the only time he discussed emotions was when crossing swords.
He overcame his deficiency with the sword. Should he be called a swordsman befitting Zaun's teachings?
He waited. He knew what was known as a curse in the family was actually a disease, and even when the number of patients suddenly increased and symptoms of unknown cause appeared, he endured, but problems arose.
The disease in his body burdened him at a speed beyond expectations.
More than half the day, he couldn't put strength into his body. His lungs seemed to shrink as his breathing became short. Convulsions occurred like seizures.
Just because you're a knight doesn't mean you're not human. You could easily overcome ordinary diseases, but this was a disease someone had spent years spreading and worsening. That disease was eating away at him.
Still, he endured. In the meantime, he did what he could.
"Odinkar, go out and bring back Grida and Ragna."
By sending out Odinkar, he protected him while sending him outside the fence of suspicion. He followed those words despite his reluctance.
"Head, there's a monster-like guy in the Border Guard."
Hearing what Odinkar said when he returned covered in dust, it wouldn't have been just a boring journey.
The Head cast aside his thoughts and walked between the fighting groups.
"I can't believe it."
Riley Zaun said. He was the son Heskal had raised. Though they shared no blood, everyone said so.
That's why even the fact that Heskal hadn't taken Riley with him complicated people's feelings.
Anyone would suspect Riley.
If it were Heskal, he naturally should have taken Riley. This was people's perspective.
The Head also looked at those with bloodshot eyes on Riley's opposite side.
"I'm on my way back from bandaging Grida's stomach. She barely survived."
One of them said. They seemed to have seen Grida being stabbed up close.
"It was definitely Heskal himself. If not him, who else could do such a thing? His swordsmanship and habits were all the same."
Calm, but fire was mixed within. The kind of fire that wouldn't easily be extinguished even by the pouring rain.
The Head looked around both left and right.
Not a single person wasn't soaked by rain.
Riley's pupils shook severely. Looking at the silent Head, he was nearly delirious.
Was I abandoned? The dagger-like thoughts he repeatedly pondered would be stabbing his heart.
He was a child who always suffered from loneliness and fell into self-loathing if not acknowledged by someone.
And this child also had Zaun attached after his name.
"Riley."
"...Yes."
"Go and ask. When Heskal appears, throw the question you hold in your heart at him. Until then, endure."
He didn't need to hear the answer. Riley folded away his excuses for Heskal. The Head hadn't told him to draw his sword and charge. He told him to ask. So he had to wait for that time.
Though the group split into two, Riley's side was relatively pushed back. If they had drawn swords and fought, unless lightning struck repeatedly to take sides, the group Riley led would have lost.
"We will fight. Until then, conserve your strength. That's an order."
The Head's orders were absolute. Unless it threatened Zaun's safety, he didn't give orders. Everyone knew this fact.
Since these weren't an army, they didn't raise their voices.
Swoooosh.
Lightning scattered white light through the slightly lighter downpour.
Craaaaash!
A god had reached out his finger to kill insects but failed. The lightning fell beyond the basin and gouged the earth.
If it had fallen here, it would have taken one or two.
It missed the lightning rod stuck high on one side of the basin yet only made futile gestures.
"The only thing we can trust is the sword in our hands. Do so."
The Head spoke and turned his body first.
Enkrid watched everything and nodded.
'There's no need to calm discord.'
No need to trust everyone behind him either.
The only thing to trust was the single sword in hand.
Well, Rynox was carrying six swords though.
Instead of a speech, the Head truly told everyone to wait for later. Meanwhile, Ragna approached and told about what happened inside, and after hearing everything, Enkrid said:
"Right."
"They're targeting Anne."
"We have to make them unable to even think of targeting her."
Simple questions and answers, but both had firm resolve. The resolve that if they saw the face of the bastard who did this, they wouldn't let him be.
The downpour seemed to lighten slightly, but showed no signs of stopping easily. Strong wind blew, threatening to lift and blow away bodies if one let their guard down. That much wind blew.
"Not good. Not good. Damn it, my chronic illness is acting up too."
Rynox, who had approached, spoke with a furrowed brow.
"What chronic illness?"
"Sometimes I can't put strength in my hands well. I was enduring by taking medicine Milleschia gave me."
"What chronic illness!"
It was Anne's voice.
When strong wind that seemed like it would uproot people like radishes blew, Anne entered Ragna's embrace and endured. She also shouted with full spite.
"That's not a chronic illness, someone spread the disease!"
Rynox knew the bleakness of the current situation. That was also why there was no time to be surprised by Heskal's betrayal.
Not just one or two were ailing from chronic illnesses flaring up.
The enemy attacking at such a time? Wow, not easy, really not easy.
Rynox thought and said:
"What do you mean by that?"
"Tell everyone to come inside! I can't talk here!"
The weather was terrible. Anne felt like holes would form in her body if she got hit by the downpour just a little more.
Ragna wrapped her head with his cloak and lifted her in his arms.
They entered indoors like that. The sturdiest place would be the mansion where the Head stayed.
"Head!"
Rynox tried to send hand signals, then realized they couldn't be seen and approached to convey what Anne had said.
"We'll do as the child says."
The Head decided, and everyone followed Anne inside.
Anne, who had entered early, brought towels to roughly dry the water from heads and bodies, then stood on the stairs going up.
The first floor was flooded and not a place for people to stand.
"What about Grida?"
Anne asked while shaking out her hair.
"Bring her."
The Head immediately said, and several including Anahera moved. Anahera said Grida was her irreplaceable friend.
When even giants discussed friendship and kept loyalty.
A human—moreover, one who had sworn a knight's oath to dedicate his life claiming to love Zaun—had struck them in the back of the head.
And thanks to striking very refreshingly and fiercely, Zaun had become a mess.
Anne looked down from the stairs as a platform.
She had gone around Zaun collecting symptoms of those afflicted with the disease.
In Anne's head were combination formulas corresponding to hundreds of diseases. Some she learned from her malicious teacher, some she realized alone, and some she obtained by pouring Krona she had thoroughly squeezed from Krais in the Border Guard.
"Everyone tell me your symptoms once more and get the herbs I name. Can you do it?"
"We can."
Somehow the Head's answer was fastest.
Since Enkrid knew the Head had no emotions, he seemed to understand the Head's current emotion.
'Impatience.'
He couldn't express it in tone, so he only expressed it through actions.
'And he looks a bit excited too.'
Of course, no emotion could be read from his exterior.
"Then please do it."
Ragna shouted so everyone among those roughly gathered could hear:
"Form a line."
Orderly would be efficient. No sooner had Ragna finished speaking than the Head stood at the very front.
"Now is the time."
The Head said. It seemed like he was saying he'd correct his previous "not now" to now.
Anne looked at him with bewildered eyes and answered:
"Head, your illness won't be cured instantly. It's not something that can be done now."
"...Then medicine that delays symptoms will do. Something that shows immediate effect when drunk during battle."
"That's quite a specific request?"
"Won't it work?"
Since Anne wasn't nervous, she didn't even pretend to catch her breath. She answered immediately:
"It will."
There was much to do. Since there was talk outside about enemies attacking or not, she had to ensure these people could fight in optimal condition.
So she became busy, and before her hands got busy, her head spun tightly first. There was no time for nervousness.
"Do you have Centella?"
"...What's that?"
Right behind the Head was Rynox. Anne asked the man behind him, and the man asked back.
"Green, this shape, find it."
Anne explained with gestures, but it was difficult to understand easily.
"Go to Milleschia's laboratory and bring everything that looks like herbs. Be careful not to get rained on."
The Head immediately said. The Head seemed equally busy.
Asking them to bring things without getting rained on in such a storm might be troublesome, but those who were relatively intact began to move.