Saaaaah—
The mist and the Scalers complemented each other well. That was why they had deployed the Mist of Massacre. However, there were four knights here.
Ordinary monsters wouldn't even be able to buy time. Ragna was the first to prove that fact.
His greatsword cut through a Scaler that had served as a medium for sorcery. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't have been so easy.
How had he managed to chase down and kill the medium, which had been hiding in the back, securing distance while only rolling its eyes?
Ragna had simply moved forward, heading straight into the enemy's encirclement.
Had the monsters possessed intelligence, they would have deemed it a madman's charge. If they targeted his back, he just had to surround himself with enemies on all sides.
That way, he could simply cut them all down indiscriminately. Ragna's thought process was simple.
The moment the medium died due to his unexpected charge, the Scalers had already made a fatal mistake.
"Even with the mist, it wouldn't have mattered."
With that judgment, Enkrid took the hand of the lady dressed in an amber gown and danced.
His feet moved ceaselessly, stepping in rhythm, while his sword swung, catching the head of a Scaler.
Swish!
The blade sliced through the creature's head without resistance.
The weight of the Black Gold blade lent it speed, while the meteorite core stabilized its balance. It wasn't just the sensation of cutting—it was a thrill that invigorated the hand itself.
"This is incredible."
Was it Aetri's craftsmanship that had improved, or was it simply the difference in materials?
"Probably both."
The Black Gold and True Silver he wielded now fit his hand far better than the ones he'd received before.
The way they responded to his grip felt as if Lady Samcheol herself was speaking to him. Telling him how happy she was to have found such an outstanding partner.
"I feel the same."
Muttering words that would make others call him a madman, Enkrid continued his relentless footwork, guiding the Lady in their deadly dance.
But his movements were far from random.
He spun in circles around Anne, always keeping her at the center.
With accelerated thoughts and sharpened senses, he accounted for every incoming attack.
He maintained the Wavebreaker stance, striking and slashing the moment he spotted an opening. Nothing—neither the Scalers nor the Brides of Plague—could close in past a certain distance.
To Anne, it felt as though she were standing in the eye of an amber-hued storm.
"The Bride of Plague's breath itself is poisonous," she warned.
No one responded. There was no need.
There were no Brides left—every one of them had been cut down before they could even maintain a distance.
Even though Anne's vision had been obstructed, she had still felt the need to speak. It didn't even take half a day to wipe out the entire Scaler horde.
A few of them had feigned retreat, lying flat against the ground to crawl toward Anne, but their efforts were in vain.
Magrun darted around, stabbing his sword deep into the earth to eliminate them.
Thud! Crack!
Among the fallen, a few beast-monsters could be seen, but they were no more than remnants. There were not even five scalers monsters left among them.
That was because Ragna had killed them all.
"If we're talking pure combat power, the beasts would have been the bigger threat."
That was Enkrid's assessment.
What made the Scalers dangerous was their ability to deceive even a knight's senses. Their hissing cries vibrated through the air, disrupting perception.
They had no discernible scent, making it impossible to detect them through smell. No, in fact, they were perhaps the hardest creatures to track via scent.
One might call them the natural enemy of beastkin.
With techniques that interfered with touch, hearing, and smell, they excelled at disorienting their prey.
Which meant the only thing to do was see them, cut them, and pierce them.
He confirmed each one's position visually, and the tingling sensation on the back of his neck told him when they drew near.
"No knight would fall so easily to those creatures."
They were, at best, nuisances.
There hadn't even been any additional magic or sorcery thrown into the mix.
After spending an exhilarating time swinging his blade alongside his Lady, a question crept into his mind.
"Why did they attack? Why waste this much effort?"
He found the answer after the battle ended.
Thud! Crunch!
Ragna drove his greatsword through the last one's skull, then twisted his wrist.
With that motion, fragments of bone scattered in all directions, and dark brain matter and blackened blood spilled from the shattered head.
Observing the battlefield, Grida frowned and spoke.
"Those bastards…"
Her gaze shifted to a spot far behind them, well beyond the area they had designated as the battlefield.
They had fought ahead, ensuring the horses wouldn't get caught in the fray. Yet now, an unexpected sight unfolded in the rear.
The horses that had carried them from Border Guard lay on the ground, their throats slit.
Crimson blood pooled on the dark earth, turning it a murky shade of red.
"They took all the water and food," Magrun reported after checking the horses' saddlebags. Since they had been riding, there had been no need for any of them to carry their own supplies. Everything—food, water, gear—had been packed onto the horses.
And now, it was all gone.
"Did I get too caught up in the fight?"
Enkrid wasn't the type to despair over a mistake. That didn't mean he wouldn't reflect on it.
And so, he reconstructed the battle from a tactical perspective. He asked himself a question and arrived at the answer.
"No."
The enemy's goal had been that from the very beginning.
That was why they had sent the Scalers and the Brides of Plague. One to disrupt their senses, the other to numb their noses.
And on top of that—
"A spell daring enough to risk revealing their own position."
Had he been luckier when blocking the fireball, he might have pinpointed the mage's location.
"If I had pushed myself a little harder, I might have found them."
But that would have meant putting Anne's life on the line, something he wasn't willing to do.
"What if I had Ragna stay back to guard her while I moved?"
His detection abilities were superior, after all.
But even then, the enemy might have slipped away. Besides, what was done was done.
There was no point in dwelling on it.
Even if the same situation arose again, he wouldn't be able to leave his position so easily.
"They even revealed the presence of a shaman for this."
They had done so just to kill a few horses and destroy their water and preserved food supplies.
"It feels like they're trying to drive us back." That was Enkrid's conclusion.
If not that…
"The mage said they could shape the situation to their liking by casting spells multiple times." What if that mage was as cunning as Krais?
"If they're doing this now that we're out of horseback travel range, then their real target must be our supplies."
Grida, as their guide, assessed the situation. It wasn't good.
But it wasn't something to panic over either. Ahead lay mountains.
For an ordinary person, that might be threatening, but not for her. The mountains were full of food.
With the weather warming, there would be grass, berries, and fruit. They could hunt animals.
Water could be replenished along the way.
"We push forward."
Enkrid reached the same decision. He spoke and glanced at Anne.
His eyes carried a question.
If she wanted to turn back, she could say so anytime. Anne clenched her teeth.
Someone harbored malice toward her.
Being targeted wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling. But she wouldn't cower and retreat.
Never.
"I'm a healer. My goal is to cure all diseases in the world."
Besides, waiting for her in Yohan was one of the reasons her family had been taken from her.
"Alright."
Enkrid acknowledged her resolve, and Anne steeled herself.
The amber liquid on her sword had passed its effective duration, and the fluid slowly dispersed, dripping onto the ground.
"It's not a lady anymore, is it? From now on, just fight properly." Anne said, using unnecessary words to calm herself.
Enkrid soothed her heart.
"Next time, I'll ask for a black tailcoat." Anne's response was high praise.
"…That knight order name will never change."
With that, the group moved forward again.
Thanks to their habit of keeping weapons on their person at all times, all they lost were blankets, cooking pots, cups, and food.
The blankets could be replaced with their cloaks.
Ragna untied the cloak from his waist and handed it to Anne. He rarely wore it, thinking it cumbersome.
It was lucky he had it tied to his waist—otherwise, it would have been taken too.
"Oh, thank you."
Anne folded the cloak in half and wrapped it around herself. Draped in the deep navy fabric, she stepped forward.
"Let's go."
"Yeah, let's go."
Grida responded, and Magrun nodded.
It seemed both of them had concluded something was happening inside Yohan. Otherwise, what was the reason for everything that had happened so far?
They hadn't even reached Imperial territory yet, which made it all the more unsettling. As they resumed their march, Enkrid walked beside Anne and asked,
"What is Panax and Remede Omnia?"
"Huh?"
Anne turned her head and blinked.
The vast landscape was already slipping behind them, and as they passed a few knolls, a field of grass rose beneath their feet.
As they walked across the grass, the terrain gradually elevated. They were now following the mountain ridges.
The increasing number of trees was proof enough.
"Where did you hear that? It's the same as elixir—Panax is the term used by the faries, and some scholars say dissolving the Philosopher's Stone would create one."
Enkrid was familiar with the term elixir—the water of life, the cure-all. It was something often mentioned in bardic tales.
But not in historical records.
Only in stories filled with myths and curiosities.
Some stories called it a golden apple, while others described it as a potion that moved on its own even inside a glass bottle.
But when asked if it truly existed, no alchemist on the continent had yet to produce such a wonder.
"Remede Omnia is a concept in alchemy. Put simply, it's a cure-all in substance form."
"Does something like that really exist?"
Enkrid asked, and Grida interjected.
"Whenever some wandering alchemist claimed to have a cure-all, it was always closer to poison. Isn't medicine just a hair's breadth away from poison?"
Anne looked at Grida and spoke.
"Do you have knowledge of alchemy? You're right. Even poisons can be useful if used correctly. On the other hand, medicine can become poison if used improperly. Some medicines turn toxic when overused, while some poisons can heal in small doses."
"So, are you saying a true cure-all could exist?"
Grida asked, her tone indifferent. Enkrid just listened in silence. Anne didn't answer immediately.
She stepped over a raised tree root and glanced at a lone tree standing in the distance.
Sweat beaded on her forehead.
She wasn't particularly weak, and the group was pacing themselves for her, but this was still tiring.
'A little further, and I'll have Ragna carry her.'
Enkrid thought to himself, while Anne took a few more steps before speaking.
"Every alchemist who studies healing dreams of creating the Elixir. I always thought their efforts were foolish."
So, it didn't exist.
Among those who studied alongside her, Anne's talents were exceptional.
Even the alchemist who had tought her had both coveted and envied her ability.
Despite only passing down partial knowledge, he had been surpassed in healing by Anne at an early stage.
Just as there were geniuses in swordsmanship, there were geniuses in alchemy. Anne herself believed she had simply been lucky enough to stumble upon insights. But others would call that kind of instinct talent.
With such exceptional abilities, she knew the Elixir was an unattainable medicine—a substance that would only ever exist in legends.
"But what if we change our perspective? People believe Elixir, Panax, and Remede Omnia are all medicines, don't they?"
"A different perspective?"
As he was walking, he asked again.
Enkrid focused on listening with an attentive posture.
"What if it's not a remedy but a title?"
Anne answered in continuation.
Enkrid felt as if his ears had been opened by those words. 'A shift in perspective.'
If it wasn't a remedy but a title, then there was no such thing as a legendary potion. However...
"It's my dream. Remedy Omnia. I aim to become someone who cures all illnesses."
A person could exist. It was Anne's dream.
As Enkrid listened to those words, he suddenly felt as if he understood what the enemy was after. When he shifted his thinking from a tactical perspective, the enemy's intentions became clear.
"I smell water."
Just then, Grida spoke and led the group.
As they crossed a small hill, a modest-sized lake came into view. The water was clear, and behind it was a steep path.
It was a body of water that had pooled in a sunken terrain.
Whether it was due to an underground spring, there was a faint chill in the air. They had several canteens, so there was no shortage of containers to collect water. However—
"Wait a moment."
Enkrid stopped Grida and looked at Anne.
"You can check if there's anything wrong with the water, right?"
"Huh? Oh, yes. Of course."
Alchemists were meticulous about water quality.
That was why many tea connoisseurs were closely associated with alchemists. Hadn't Marcus often said something along those lines?
"If you know an alchemist, getting clean water is easy. The best of all is said to be the dawn dew made by fairies, though."
Anne approached the water source, filled a canteen, and added a few drops of liquid into it.
She always carried a small backpack filled with reagents—ones she would never allow to touch her own skin.
"You shouldn't drink this. If you do, toxins will accumulate in your organs. It's not fatal, but you still shouldn't drink it."
The enemy's intent was clear.
"Did they tamper with our supplies knowing this water source was contaminated?"
Magrun muttered.
"Or did they poison it in advance?"
Enkrid listened as Grida continued, but that was something they couldn't confirm.
Whether the poison had been added here or the water had been naturally tainted from the start was unknown, but one thing was certain—the road ahead would not be an easy one.
A bit of tainted water wouldn't be enough to take down those who wielded Will. That meant the enemy's goal was crystal clear.
'Anne.'
The reason was still unknown.
The enemy's identity remained a mystery.
But something inside him was beginning to boil. What was rising within him?
A firm resolve—whatever their enemy desired, he would never let them have it. And Enkrid was not the only one who felt that way.
"These bastards, seriously..."
A mix of irritation, profanity, and ridicule spilled from Anne's small mouth.
It was almost like an exclamation of admiration—though, of course, admiration was the last thing on her mind.