Enkrid wrapped his injured forearm tight with bandages and set off.
The black blood stuck to the soles of his boots dragged in long strings, showing off its viscosity before it finally fell away. The tiger-beast's blood was a little syrupy.
That beast had its ear torn, one foreleg cut off, its skull split open, and its guts spilled across the ground as it died.
As the wounds showed, it hadn't been decided in one or two cuts.
Even against a Knight—one with high-grade martial power at that—the beast kept coming. Maybe thanks to that, there was a kind of grim fun.
'Not bad.'
The beast's movements were dynamic and slipped past his predictions again and again.
Enkrid layered the Sword of Chance over the Wave-Blocking Sword to block. Then he stabbed, slashed, and struck with Flash.
Fighting, he focused on the creature's dynamism. There was a lot to learn.
'How to load power.'
The core of Balaph-style martial arts lay in rotation—more precisely, in twisting the body and wringing out power.
And to draw out such brute force, the vessel had to be sturdy as well.
That's why you temper the body to its limits.
Hard bones, trained muscles, and a body structure that could execute the instant you thought.
In the tiger-beast's dynamic movement, all the cores Enkrid had been thinking about were there.
'Each forepaw carried real weight with every strike.'
And it had methods that broke expectations.
Whoosh.
It breathed fire and, from a distance, raked with its claws so that a formless blade came flying.
Clang!
If he hadn't sensed it with a sixth sense beyond feel and flicked Tri-Iron to parry the formless blade, some part of him would have been carved deep.
It wouldn't be common for a beast to use powers and spells. On top of that, it used its head.
'Hit and run.'
When in close, it knew to put weight into a single strike; when it backed off, it used its powers.
A method and a tactic. Watching it, he learned again.
'You can master many sword arts, but it's the person who uses them.'
From the tiger-beast that used powers along with dynamism—he learned that.
It was like taking what he already knew, ordering it, and watching the theory be implemented before his eyes. It was truly good study.
"Hoo."
Enkrid let out a breath, plucked a wide leaf nearby to wipe his swords, then roughly wiped the blood off his own body as well.
He meant to leave just like this.
'Whatever the village has hidden—'
That belongs to them.
And it wasn't as if Enkrid had fought expecting any reward.
Strictly speaking, he'd stepped forward from a feeling of facing down past regrets; there was nothing he wanted that warranted explaining each of those, and it would be laughable to say he'd "just helped," wouldn't it?
If Rem were watching from the side, he might kindly explain, "You want to brag, but doing so would look uncool, so you should just say you're leaving, no?"—but what did that matter?
What mattered was that they would survive for a while.
If Eirik and Brunhild grew up as they were, they might live much longer.
It wouldn't be bad if those two later came looking for the Border Guard, but that too wasn't something to force.
He'd give them the chance to choose, but he wouldn't presumptuously cut and tailor the future of those children.
"Feel a little lighter now?"
One day, a woman holding a small child's hand came out to the village entrance and spoke.
She wore the same clothes as when they first met. Old but meticulously stitched clothes; a child not plump but bright-eyed.
One of the many he hadn't managed to protect, even with them at his back.
It was a village that no longer existed and a person already dead, and yet Enkrid found comfort in her words.
'If you live your whole life in Yesterday, you won't even know Tomorrow's sun has risen.'
He hadn't learned it from anyone, and yet such words floated up. Even if you repeat Today, you will walk toward Tomorrow. So you shouldn't remain in Yesterday.
'Nor should I drag this out any longer.'
He'd already spent about a month in the village. That was a lot of time.
It was a lush, green mountain. Now, unless he pared down his clothes, the weather would give him heat rashes around the joints. Enkrid walked, following the sunshine. His shadow stretched long and trailed after him to match his steps.
Midway, he found a brook and washed, and not even a half-day into walking—
It wasn't time for Border Guard patrols to be out, and yet he sensed a mass of people.
'Refined blades.'
Like blades hammered for days by a skilled smith. That's how the presence of a group felt.
Properly trained regulars closed in, surrounding the area.
Compared to them, the beast packs he'd been dealing with for days would be fair to call children.
Enkrid stood on a steep downhill, so he could look down from above, but the growth below was dense, so he couldn't see the ones approaching clearly.
Rustle, rasp, thud-thud-thud.
Only small, man-made noises rang at his ears.
Enkrid waited with a hand on Tri-Iron's grip—the sword tied at his waist with braided vines. With just a little force, it would do its job in a blink.
He also masked his presence with Fairy Footwork, and then a faint sign pricked the space behind his back.
'Stealthy.'
In truth, it was more than just stealthy. Quieter than a fox with many tails. Better at hiding presence than beasts turned monstrous, and it radiated a danger more intense than any monster he'd met in Zaun.
Enkrid shifted his feet. If attacked front and back here, he'd be at a disadvantage. Naturally, he moved to a position that gave him even a small advantage. From the stance of looking down, he turned his body side-on.
Now, the stealthy one was to his left, and to his lower right, a force climbed up.
Preparation finished, one among the refined mass whose spirit stood out pushed his head above the brush.
Ash-gray hair and dull gray eyes. A hatchet dangling at his waist, he looked to Enkrid—and the feral light in those eyes didn't seem like it would lose even to the tiger Beast King.
He was like a bow with the string drawn to the limit, ready to go wild at any time.
When they first met, the hair had been dyed brown. Now he didn't even think to hide his hair color.
"What are you doing here?"
When Enkrid asked, Rem lifted the hand that had been resting on his axe, scratched his chin, and said:
"…Out for a stroll?"
Out for a stroll, and he'd dragged his direct unit behind him? All of them were heavily armed to boot.
Beside Rem, a man burly enough to be mistaken for a bear-beast stepped forward.
He'd somehow managed to hide that body inside the brush.
Unfolding his crouched frame, Audin smiled and opened his mouth.
"I, for my part, am walking in accordance with the teachings of God."
"…And those teachings just happen to include bringing your entire direct unit along?"
Behind Audin as well, those called the Fanatics within the Border Guard looked this way with calm eyes.
They were ready to fight—obviously.
"You're moving in line with the Tactical Sword, aren't you? You've grown again."
Luagarne was there too. More than anything, she focused on what had changed in Enkrid.
Meeting here by chance—who cared?
It mattered more that this guy had changed again.
Frog's bulging eyes gleamed slick with curiosity and desire. That was because actual oil had oozed out and gotten into the corners of her eyes.
Jaxon, who'd first killed his presence, also came down from above. Looking at him, Enkrid asked:
"And you?"
"What are you doing, Captain?"
"Traveling with an Imperial Knight."
"Traveling with?"
For some reason, Krais was with them too. The last words came from Krais behind Luagarne. Meeting eyes with him, Enkrid finished:
"Found an isolated village."
"Found, huh."
Krais's filler words were as sharp as Ragna's cuts.
What was he supposed to say here?
That he'd saved them and come back?
"There were a lot of beasts, so I handled things to a reasonable degree and left."
One reason Enkrid thought he shouldn't drag this out was these people.
If he stayed still, wouldn't they start moving to find him?
He hadn't expected them to come ready for all-out war, though.
"Ragna said there wouldn't be such a thing, so why did you go and gather everyone like this on your own?"
Krais scolded him.
In truth, the moment Enkrid started talking about a village related to beasts, more than half would have understood: there he goes, saving people again and getting delayed.
Rem said it out loud:
"You went off to help someone somewhere again, and the ones standing at my back—those I won't let die—were left to come after you? And now you're back?"
"…I didn't say that."
"You said something like it."
"I did not."
The villagers' wariness had been so high that he hadn't said anything of the sort.
Krais shook his head and added:
"Anyway, if you'd been even a little later, His Majesty the King was about to go sightseeing through the Empire, southern border or no."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
Rem, Audin, and Jaxon all made excuses, but they'd set out to find Enkrid.
Were they truly ready to go to war with the Empire?
Those three—maybe they were.
Enkrid didn't know, but Jaxon had even intended to use the power of Georg's Dagger.
The reason Krais had stepped up was easy enough to guess.
'Even if it doesn't amount to mediation, you can't start with a losing fight.'
If you did, you couldn't negotiate from a favorable position. Maybe he'd come to stop them at the last moment if a fight was about to break out.
Even so, it was surprising. That coward stepping out himself.
Enkrid had expected as much, but the truth was a fair bit different.
Of course Krais had worried deeply. If this crazy captain had kicked up a storm in the Empire, then what?
Ragna, who'd returned ahead of Enkrid, had simply said it seemed like he'd gotten lost and that he would go as guide.
No one in the Border Guard would permit that.
It was plain that even Anne, who had reset her relations with Ragna and returned, had stopped him.
In the end, after bending his will, Ragna had added this:
"Nothing will happen."
His words brimmed with conviction. It meant no Imperial Knight or the like could do anything to Enkrid.
At any rate, the reason Krais had come this far wasn't to stop them, but because if they'd made up their minds to fight, the right move was to strike before the other side could prepare.
And this wasn't the end of it either. Lawford and Pel were leading their units behind him, so in effect they'd fully set out.
'If anything had happened to the Captain.'
If the Empire had done it, they would have paid the price.
Krais inwardly patted his chest. He'd marched out hot-headed, but seeing Enkrid cooled him down and let reality come back into focus.
'Not going to die of old age, are we.'
Well—such thoughts came and went.
"But anyway—"
Enkrid was about to ask something when Krais spoke first.
"Esther said that a magician's way is to act from where no one expects, so she'd be joining later as follow-up. And Shinar said there's just so much to show those who look down on the Fairy's power, and went to the city of Kirheis. Of course, she'll be in the later wave too."
If Enkrid had dawdled even a little longer, a large-scale war would have broken out.
"Are you all insane?"
Enkrid asked in all sincerity.
"Is that really what should be coming out of your mouth, Captain?"
Rem gave him a scolding.
Then Audin smiled and nodded at that, and Jaxon, agreeing with Rem, bobbed his chin up and down—an all-too-rare scene.
For Enkrid, those three moving in one accord like that was itself astonishing.
In any case, since they'd met here, there'd be no more misfortune.
Enkrid scratched his head.
"Shall we go back?"
He had nothing in particular to say.
"Yes."
Krais answered for them.
Returning to the Border Guard, the Ragna who had said things would be fine had finished preparing to set out with his ten-man direct unit.
He also saw the gathered Fairies with a fierce air as if emotion were a luxury.
The green wave of the Druids and the brown wave of the Wood Guard—with Shinar drawing her blade between them.
"Let's go, to avenge my husband."
"Whose husband is whose?"
Enkrid blocked the Fairy host from the front.
"Instead of studying the stars, you were about to tear through the largest nation built by humans in the name of research."
Esther had also returned upon hearing of Enkrid.
In less than two days, a letter from Krang arrived too.
Heading to see the Empire.
The content was short but substantial.
Enkrid found all of this ridiculous—and yet, honestly, it didn't feel bad.
After that, in a brief lull, Enkrid sought out Leona and asked a few favors, and he also passed word to Krais.
[* * *]
Harkvent drove off the beast pack, put things in order, and waited for Enkrid. If he had to say what he felt now, it was half anxiety, half expectation.
'We may escape the beasts' grasp.'
That part was expectation.
'What does he want?'
That part was anxiety.
But even after four days, the uneasy feeling didn't return.
The beast raids thinned and sputtered out.
Even while they re-ordered the village, he did not come back.
'Why?'
A question remained.
That question unraveled while he spoke with the old woman who served as midwife and healer.
"Maybe he just helped and left. You're bewitched."
The old woman said it, and Harkvent realized just how poorly he'd behaved.
'He didn't covet a thing.'
Nor had he turned his back on them.
Shame. Disgrace. He wanted to crawl into a rat hole and hide.
Hadn't he failed to say even a simple thank you properly?
He'd earned a long wound across his chest fighting beasts, but the scar engraved inside was deeper still. That one would be called Shame.
"Why."
Why help and just go?
Furthermore, his help hadn't ended there.
The fighting with beasts was over, but reality remained. Even if it was summer, they were troubled after consuming all their stockpiled food.
"Hello?"
A peddler came. A man with a much tidier impression than the one who'd come before.
"I'm Malton, a peddler with the Lockfreed Company. Got anything to trade? For starters I brought some food, clothes, and necessities."
The peddler named Malton set down his bundles. More than ten sturdy men and swordsmen came as guards with him.
Seeing that, Harkvent raised his head, and Malton spoke the prepared words.
"I don't intend any harm, and if you don't want to trade, I'll leave this and go. But if I were you, I'd deal with me. The ones who'd opened dealings with this village before were pretty rotten. I think you can guess why I came all the way out here—it's the will of the one who stayed here for a while and left."
Malton's words were true. The peddlers who had come here before, buying the village's herbs and selling some goods, had left far too much profit for themselves.
"Sold their consciences for cheap" would be the right description.
Malton also knew the pattern well because he'd done the same thing many times before.
"Well?"
Malton asked, and Harkvent nodded. And so, the man who'd been given a one-sided favor opened his heart.
"Our village has a precious item—please make sure this gets to him."