"I always thought tracking and hunting didn't suit me, and I never liked them either. To put it simply, it was because they weren't fun. So, what did I do instead of tracking or hunting?"
Odincar continued speaking.
That was the phrase he deliberately chose to say, ending with a question.
Normally, it was the kind of thing that would make others ask why he was suddenly bringing it up, and in reality, Enkrid and Ragna had no idea what he was talking about.
Grida was the one who answered. "You ran."
"Like a brute."
It was, of course, Magrun who added to the response. The two of them were used to conversing with Odincar. As they answered, Odinchar nodded.
"Yeah, there aren't many who can catch me when I run. Even if someone had set a trap up ahead, I wouldn't need to stick to the main road if I were alone, so the chances of getting caught would be lower. And if I noticed something in advance, I could deal with it and move on."
Odincar wasn't a fool—he wasn't simply suggesting he'd rush ahead and recklessly put himself in danger.
He was talking about taking a different route, not the one they had been riding along, but stepping onto the black soil to the left and crossing the distant mountains.
"I'm not here to discuss methods, nor am I debating what's possible or not. Why do you want to go ahead?"
Grida asked.
They didn't even know who their enemies were or what they were after—was it really necessary to split up?
Grida's intuition as a guide was telling her not to do it.
From a knight's perspective, however, it was a reasonable proposal.
Ever since they had left Border Guard, Odincar had been joking about staying behind, but at the same time, he had also kept saying he had a bad feeling.
Even after meeting Enkrid, he had admitted he was having fun, but he still felt like this wasn't where he was supposed to be.
"It's not a bad idea. Nothing could have happened to Yohan—no way. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't have heard anything about what's going on. He could even stop by the Hunter's Village on the way and tell them to prepare for our arrival."
Magrun added.
The Hunter's Village was one of the settlements surrounding Yohan.
Some who made it to Yohan but never received a family name returned to their hometowns. Others, with nowhere to go back to, settled in the area.
The Hunter's Village was one of those settlements.
"So, it's about efficiency."
Grida nodded.
That was, in the end, the essence of what Odincar was saying.
"If I rush ahead, I might trigger whatever traps our enemies have set, or, as Magrun said, I could be the one to deliver news of what's happening here. I'm not sure about stopping by the Hunter's Village. If I'm alone, I could just head straight to Yohan."
Odincar continued.
He was practically fidgeting with anticipation.
To Enkrid, it looked like if someone shouted "Run!" at him, he'd take off immediately. Regardless, he had assessed the situation clearly.
Knights weren't omnipotent.
People called them disasters because they could achieve feats beyond common expectations, but knights themselves knew what they could and couldn't do.
Those who failed to recognize this would become intoxicated by their own perceived omnipotence and eventually collapse from exhaustion.
The important thing here was that, within this group, the only thing Odincar could do was match their pace and walk.
Tracking and detection weren't his strengths.
On the other hand, Magrun was skilled at understanding paths and assessing situations. Grida, as the guide, was leading them while also observing their enemies' intentions.
Sure, one of them could have left while the other stayed behind, but both of them had roles to fulfill here.
In short, they had no reason to leave.
But Odincar?
He was like a sword still sheathed—unless there was a direct fight, he wasn't of much use in this situation.
A sheathed sword wasn't useless, but what kind of fool would try to fight without drawing their blade?
Odincar knew the basics of tracking and detection, but he wasn't exceptional at them. That made him a blade trapped in its scabbard.
So, the best thing he could do was leave first.
Enkrid didn't know if what the ferryman had shown him was the future, or if he was simply being mocked by showing him his own confinement.
He had no idea whether this choice was the right one.
But he did know that, right now, they needed to set things up so that everyone could do what they were best at.
And that meant Odincar could leave.
"You're sharp, you know that?"
Grida said, as if summing up the situation, looking at Enkrid. He nodded and replied,
"Most women say that after talking to me for a few minutes. One of my seventeen irresistible charms."
"…Are you seriously joking at a time like this? You're consistently insane." Magrun shook his head and, as usual, spat out a sharp remark.
It was as if he suffered from a disease that forced him to utter something biting at least once a day, lest his tongue rot away.
Enkrid gave him a pitying look.
Why couldn't he just accept reality instead of lashing out like that? It was because he had a pessimistic view of the world.
That same perspective allowed him to dissect the elements of swordsmanship with cold precision, but it also made him see the world with a bitter gaze.
That was Magrun's flaw.
Enkrid had learned a lot from Shinar, and one of those things was that jokes should be delivered boldly.
He had also learned that no matter what one said, they should always keep their chest lifted with confidence.
So that's what he did.
"I'm just stating the truth."
"You're really full of yourself, aren't you?" Grida chimed in.
Her gaze briefly flickered to Anne.
She wasn't stupid—she must have realized by now that the monsters had been after her. That alone might make her feel like she had messed everything up.
Enkrid's joke had been a small gesture of consideration toward her.
The others, being knights, had the composure that came with their level of skill, but the freckled healer?
She wouldn't have that same luxury.
"This is hard to listen to."
Anne, whether she had picked up on it or was simply acting out of habit, played along with the joke.
While they were exchanging words, a long shadow stretched over the campfire.
"Then, I'll be going ahead."
The shadow belonged to Odincar, who had finished gathering his equipment. A heavy backpack would only slow him down and get in the way.
To prepare for possible combat, he carried only a small bag slung diagonally across his back.
Inside would be some simple preserved food and knight rations—edible enough if you ignored taste.
When mixed with water, it provided enough sustenance.
A regular person would find it hard to digest, experiencing discomfort and nausea, but knights were used to eating large amounts and could process it while running.
Odincar turned to Enkrid one last time. "I'll see you in Yohan."
Enkrid nodded in response.
Odincar gave a final stroke to the mane of the horse that had carried him, whispering his thanks, then strode off into the darkness.
With the moon hidden behind clouds, the light of the fire soon lost sight of him. It was as if he had walked straight into the maw of some lurking beast.
Of course, if such a massive creature were nearby, its scent and presence would be obvious, so that was unlikely.
'And even if something like that did appear, he'd probably just cut his way out.' As Odinchar's figure disappeared into the shadows, Enkrid thought to himself— That man was one of the strongest in Yohan.
That was why none of them felt uneasy about letting him go. What would this situation turn into later?
No one knew.
But for now—this was how it had to be.
If he had brought it up and everyone had opposed it, he wouldn't have forced the issue. But everyone followed Enkrid's words without resistance.
Magrun mulled over the situation as he looked at Enkrid.
Sitting quietly by the campfire, Enkrid was rummaging through his belongings. 'Why did they follow Enki's words so readily? Because his opinion was reasonable?'
Was it because, after spending months together, they had come to recognize that his gaze was not ordinary?
Or perhaps—
'Have we unconsciously developed a tendency to follow him?'
Enkrid was the kind of person who naturally made others accept his opinions. 'There's a reason he's called the Demon.'
Hadn't the entire Border Guard turned into training fanatics just from witnessing his relentless obsession with training?
Magrun looked at the transformed Border Guard standing forces.
He hadn't seen them before, but he knew well enough that no unit like this existed anywhere else on the continent.
If there was any army that could be considered a worthy comparison— 'Perhaps the Imperial Army.'
The outcome of an actual battle was uncertain, but in terms of the quality of the troops, they were comparable.
"It's strange for us to be traveling together like this. We're perfectly fine on our own. Even that Ragna has been venturing out alone since he was a child."
The comment was an aside, added during the course of a conversation.
"It's a path where you just follow the moonlight. No need to take a complicated route." Ragna responded to those words.
"…That bastard is lucky to still be alive. Shouldn't he have already fallen off somewhere and died? A demonic domain, a cliff, something."
Ragna's sister voiced her concerns for her younger brother.
In turn, the brother responded to her worries with affectionate language.
"Where do you even keep your eyes? Not only can you not remember people's faces, but you can't find your way either? Why would you walk toward a cliff just because you see one?"
As long as they weren't drawing swords to actually kill each other, this counted as affectionate. At least, that's how Enkrid decided to see it.
The two continued exchanging their warm sentiments in a similar manner for a while.
"I can just jump down a cliff if it comes to it. Ah, can't you do that?"
"You son of a bitch, you talk just like Rem."
Grida, flaunting her experience wandering the continent, incorporated a variety of curses she had picked up, including some she had recently learned.
Had Rem been present, he would have immediately drawn his axe in response. Hearing their exchange, Enkrid felt an urge to cleanse his ears.
Even in most mercenary bands, conversations weren't this brutal.
"I have no idea what's happening here."
"Same for me."
Magrun and Anne, who had chosen to ignore the pair's comedic exchange, made passing comments to each other.
The fire's glow painted Anne's face red.
Despite the situation, she didn't mention turning back. Rather, she said the opposite.
"I have to see that disease for myself."
She didn't add 'with my own eyes' or 'in person,' but her meaning was clear.
"Do as you wish."
Enkrid respected her decision.
She had left an impression on him from the very first meeting. To her, even alchemy was just another means of healing.
Then, was what she practiced alchemy or healing arts? He didn't know.
She could call it whatever she wanted.
Enkrid pulled out his weapons and laid them out by the fire. It was time for maintenance.
According to Jaxen, his sense of aesthetics was as lacking as a horned trumpet dagger—or Rem. Among his weapons, there were ten of those daggers, along with a Samcheol and a Penna.
He had even brought a short sword mixed with Valerian steel, just in case.
He had developed the habit of keeping weapons on his person rather than hanging them on his saddle.
It was something he had learned from his mercenary days—not through direct instruction, but simply by observing others.
Among mercenaries, it was common practice to always keep their weapons on their bodies.
"You must have worked as a mercenary before."
Grida, keen-eyed as ever, remarked.
She, too, had wandered the continent and had, of course, been involved in the mercenary world. She pulled out her own weapons and began her maintenance routine as well.
Applying oil where needed, checking for loosened fittings—these were the usual tasks.
Ragna and Magrun joined in, and soon, the only sound filling the air was the rhythmic clinking of metal.
Afterward, silence settled in as they rested.
They all knew how to sleep as much as necessary when needed. That's what they did.
Even Anne, at some point, loosened up and fell asleep.
Enkrid remained partially alert even while resting, but nothing happened that night. Morning arrived uneventfully.
After stretching, eating, and taking care of necessities, they continued their journey.
The land was a vast expanse of black soil and open plains, occasionally interrupted by rolling hills.
Some hills were so high that even on horseback, one couldn't see past them. Others barely reached Anne's waist.
The landscape stretched on like waves.
As they walked with the lazy spring sun hanging above their right shoulders, something happened.
A few trees stood in the distance, and around them, mist began to spread. It was obviously unnatural and abnormal.
Moreover, Enkrid had encountered this phenomenon before.