"A Knight is not the end."
At Enkrid's words, Pel raised his head. Bruises mottled his cheeks, and both arms hung down.
He'd been struck around the shoulders and elbows, muscles twitching with cramps. He couldn't lift his arms.
In the bout between a practice sword and Idol Slayer, the result had been simple.
'Evade and hit.'
The basic principle of swordsmanship. He knew you had to use your feet a lot to do it.
Pel knew that too, but once he'd taken it, he started to doubt that everything he knew until now had been right.
Instead of using excessive footwork, Enkrid read the attacks, then batted away Pel's offense with faster, heavier blows and struck him.
Why had it turned out like this?
Inside, a bright flower of doubt bloomed. And as doubt arose, Enkrid's words sank in.
A Knight is not an end but a beginning.
Back in the shepherd bands of the wilds, he'd now be counted among the handful of top hands. Here, he wasn't.
Even now Enkrid swung his sword every day like a madman. Everyone he influenced trained and trained. That was what Pel saw daily.
After a single spar, his omnipotence faded down to a healthy level, and Pel sorted what he could and could not do.
"What about Lawford?"
Among the things he could do right now was this: he could beat Lawford soundly.
Pel went to find Lawford, and Lawford only stepped into the Order's drill yard a day later. Of course, he too had broken through a wall.
The difference was, Pel had drunk in omnipotence; Lawford had skipped past that phase.
'There are monsters everywhere around me.'
Every one of the Mad Knight Order, Enkrid included, was a good milestone and target.
Lawford had watched them and weighed what they'd done, and so he didn't get drunk on omnipotence.
This was a difference of temperament, not of skill.
In truth, Lawford still couldn't cleanly sort what he could and could not do.
Either way, both Pel and Lawford could now use Will naturally, and so they still treated each other as their greatest rival.
"Barely keeping up, are you."
Pel grinned wolfishly as he spoke.
"Who's keeping up with whom?"
"You with me?"
"Me with who?"
"Ah, does denying it make you feel better?"
"Me with who?"
Pel and Lawford's bickering was almost affectionate. Watching them cross blades was almost affectionate, too.
A courier soldier who came to deliver a letter was a little startled at them fighting, but if you were allowed into the Order's drill yard, this wouldn't shock you.
They were used to seeing Rem and Ragna, Rem and Audin, Rem and Jaxen clash—this much gave you a tolerance.
The letter was from the Eastern Pioneer King.
Dunbachel didn't wash for a month straight and then broke through her wall.
What kind of content was this?
There were plenty of things that had happened in the East, but the main topic was Dunbachel.
They were calling her the Golden-Eyed Lion there these days, apparently.
She wouldn't let go now, so if you wanted to come find her, be ready to suffer to do it.
That sort of thing.
'It's not like I ever bound her in the first place.'
If Dunbachel had decided to remain in the East, he would respect that decision. If Anu wasn't holding her by force, there was no reason to go drag her back.
He might ask once, of course.
"Busy?"
After he finished the letter, Shinar came looking for him.
"If you're not busy, come play."
She didn't mean play—the Fairies' peculiar way of telling skewed truths.
The Fairy village had called Enkrid. Said they had something to give.
Before he left, Pel and Lawford were gauging each other's strength at a reasonable pace.
Becoming Knights had made each one's characteristics stand out more clearly.
In that case, they wouldn't end up killing each other.
And this was the Order's drill yard. Even if it wasn't him, there were hands to stop it at the final moment.
"All right."
"You have become a very amusing human, my betrothed."
At how readily he rose, Shinar's eyes curved. He didn't know why she was smiling, but a Fairy's smile was like a thief stealing a human heart.
Enkrid could look on impassively.
Become a Knight, and your strength of mind grows different as well.
If your heart shakes, the body shakes.
Once you know such truths, you develop the habit of steadying your heart at any time.
Led by Shinar, he entered the Fairy city, where Wood Guard Bran greeted him first.
Puff.
White smoke rose from his mouth. A tree holding flame between its lips.
"Still smoking leaf?"
"A wily thing. Once you start burning it, it's hard to stop."
Past the tree-fairy smoking leaf at the city gate, deeper in, one of the fire-handling clans gave a nod and followed from a distance.
That wasn't the end of it. The Fairies' eyes all followed.
Enkrid was the hero who had saved the Fairy city and their idol.
They had all flocked to see that face.
"They have eyes."
Shinar looked around them as she spoke. A hint of pride in her voice—probably his imagination.
"Does no one have work to do?"
Keeping their distance, the Fairies trailed after with soft shh-shh sounds, peeking from thickets and between trees.
At a glance, it could be unnerving, but Enkrid just let it be.
Better this than being dragged to a ball and surrounded by dozens of ladies.
At least they were keeping their distance.
Then the representative of the Fairy clans stepped forward.
Enkrid had forgotten the handsome middle-aged Fairy's name again.
It had been a similar situation when he woke after cutting down One Killer.
He scraped it up with effort and asked:
"Ermen?"
"You got it this time."
Satisfied, he nodded with a smile.
"Do you forget my name often, too?"
Shinar tossed a remark from the side, and Enkrid suddenly recalled old days.
This Fairy had been impish then and was impish now, but he had changed, and he could take such things evenly now.
'A lot of time has passed.'
There was more to protect, and he had protected more. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't proud.
"Was your name Zanar?"
"You landed a blow."
At the joke, Shinar smiled. Unlike before, the Fairy smiled often now.
"Take it."
Ermen had called Enkrid to give him a gift. The clan's representative handed over folded cloth.
He took it and spread it, and the cloth fluttered in the wind—an umber-green cloak.
'Vitality?'
From the cloak, Enkrid felt a life-force like that breathed by trees and leaves.
"As soon as we settled here, the Druids drew thread for months and made this with their hearts placed inside."
The dark green cloak shed a soft light as if it had gathered light within.
Enkrid threw it over his shoulders.
The hem, which had fallen just below his thigh, lengthened on its own to wrap his ankles.
'A cloak imbued with a charm.'
It adjusted length, and from within rose the fresh scent of grass.
Just wearing it made you feel like you were bathing in a forest.
Cloaks weren't originally tools needed for battle, but Knights used even these as tools.
The Red Cloak Order used cloaks to ward spells, for one.
Even at a glance, you could tell—it held devotion and heart.
Strangely, the boots he'd received from the cobbler came to mind.
That, too, had been the best within the maker's means.
Now, the Fairy clans were doing the same.
"It looks good. Especially the color."
Thus, the Order's symbol shifted a little—from a navy cloak to a dark green one.
Whatever they'd intended, the Border Guard's rank-badge pattern had already been stitched into the cloak.
"What's this? Changing cloak colors?"
On the way back, Krais saw it and asked, and Enkrid nodded.
"That's how it turned out."
Even then, three steps behind, Shinar trailed along with eyes full of expectation.
"Leaf-green is love."
Shinar smiled, satisfied. She was positively delighted to have draped the Fairies' symbol on him.
He received a precious gift, and by afternoon, Esther asked to go look around the market together.
It was rare, so he nodded, and they took a turn through the stalls.
"Laughter plays on people's faces. It's a curious thing."
Esther observed humans. What she hadn't known and had missed when she lived in the forest, she now saw and knew.
In her eyes, this city could rightly be called full of plenty.
"Hey, buy something."
Next they saw a giant who'd laid out a mat.
"Why are you here?"
They saw Seiki selling herbs.
A girl with saint-tier divinity selling herbs. Seiki had originally lived as a ranger, so she was used to picking and sorting herbs.
"How long am I supposed to live off others with a sound body? People need work."
A life of idleness, training divinity, and stargazing on mountains was fine—but they said you should beware boredom and not forget industry.
It was a stance that held her own thoughts and principles.
"Oh? Uncle?"
Then Enkrid ran into his long-lost uncle again.
"Eek."
He'd forgotten the name. The face had changed as well. His beard was neatly trimmed, his hair cut short, and he looked like he'd slimmed down.
But that expression he could not forget: pupils going unfocused, mouth falling open.
Once upon a time, when Enkrid had been a friend of Leona Lockfreed, master of the Lockfreed Company, this man had boasted he was the Ironclad Knight's uncle, and he was a merchant who'd bullied the caravan led by Enri and gotten his comeuppance when he was caught.
It was funny he could forget Ermen's name so often and not forget someone like Malton, but what could he do—his head just worked that way.
"The Ironclad Knight."
At his mutter, Enkrid nodded.
"Good to see you again. You've changed a lot. Pocket money?"
Malton was living a different life now. It wasn't like the days he'd lived like a toad full of poison.
"Yes, if you need it—however much."
With focus returned to his eyes, Malton spoke.
Something had changed.
Enkrid saw it and nodded. People change. They could.
He heard he now worked as a headman for the Lockfreed Company.
Headman meant a leading merchant who commanded several others—and among those, peddling bundles was this man's specialty.
"I was the one who went to that village, too."
He even passed along news of the secluded village Enkrid had visited before.
"They said you're welcome anytime—that you haven't been forgotten. They haven't forgotten the favor."
What to call it—news that wasn't exciting, but warm.
From Dunbachel to the hermit's village.
Today seemed to be a day when he heard pleasant tales from here and there.
"A hot apple pie just came out—take one with you?"
He chatted with Allen the innkeeper as he passed.
Vanessa, with more wrinkles than before, sat on a chair before the inn and called to him.
Fruit sellers greeted him.
The cobbler laughed that it had been a while.
He had once dreamed of such a day.
An apple-seller who cut out the rotten parts and gave him the rest.
An old serving woman who roasted potatoes over the stove.
A foul-mouthed crone with a bent back who had once sold her body.
A mercenary who fled battle and fighting and dreamed of a peaceful day.
A day when, in a refuge where they could all laugh, Enkrid too could walk, greet people, and pass the day.
Today, swinging his sword was more enjoyable than usual, and teasing with Shinar was a fun thing.
As a witch, Esther said she had seen new things and chattered on about this and that. Could that be called chatter? She did speak more than usual.
"It's a bit quiet today. So—ta-da, look. A salon plan."
Krais looked set to unfurl his dream.
If the noble set gathered inside the Border Guard, they'd need a place to make noise.
He saw Leona in passing, too.
"What we brought in from the village we found this time—it's… No. I'll tell you later."
Baisar Qin was at her side.
"It seems several ladies who had their eyes on you sighed together."
Walking with Esther, the number of gazes that followed was considerable; likely she meant them.
The sun was clear, the clouds just enough, and the sky blue.
Back at the Border Guard's drill yard, Ragna was teaching something with his ten men.
Enkrid had told him the system for raising Knights, and he was applying part of it.
"Let's not fight by reading cues today—let's have a real go."
Before dinner, the spar with Rem was fun. They worked up a sweat, and Rem's wit, bursting out in moments, always threw off his calculations.
He took that disruption, too, and folded it back into the domain of tactics.
"Exactly."
Luagarne admired it, and after the bout ended, he spent hours in discourse with her.
In a city full of things protected, there were those who walked with him.
It was the dreamed-of Today.
And then, in the dream, the Ferryman came. Then he made a proposal.
"Not a future where loss and grudge and despair wait—but a Today of satisfaction and joy waits for you. End your life yourself before you sleep. Then it will be so."
Yes—right now, even to Enkrid, the Ferryman's proposal sounded reasonable.