329 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

In the Border Guard of Jirah, a hero emerged after defeating Azpen and vanquishing the cultists! He might become a knight! Discussions on the qualities of a knight ensued. Just this much had made Enkried the hottest name in all of northern Naurelia. "I must see him for myself." It was only natural that interest from various nobles was piqued. A peerless hero born on the frontier, the story itself was compelling. He quickly gained immense popularity among the populace. Wouldn't keeping him close be an excellent way to broadcast one's influence? Is influence the only benefit to derive? So, does one believe he will become a knight? Few actually believed that possessing a knight’s qualifications equated to becoming a knight. Very few recognized Enkried’s potential. In reality. "A knight? How laughable." This was the common reaction. However, it didn’t really matter even if he wasn't a knight. Even if Enkried didn’t become a knight, there were many places that could make good use of him. Far too many. Firstly, his strength alone was at a level that couldn’t be ignored. He had proven his skills, unlike the so-called riffraff, even if he didn't become a knight, achieving a quasi-knight level. It was said the frontier village would attach his name to the fortress wall after he saved them from crisis. Among mercenaries, there are those called Platinum Mercenaries, and it was said that he could stand alongside them. Even without becoming a knight, his abilities were more than sufficient to serve as a formidable escort. And the rumors didn't just discuss his skills. "His looks are rather outstanding, aren’t they?" His physical appearance had a remarkable impact as well. How could only his skills have spread through rumors? It was only natural for the hearts of a few noblewomen to flutter. They said that just one look and you get completely captivated, earning him the nickname "the Captain of Charm." "I must meet him myself." So how could one not be curious? Moreover, Enkried was not a lord and only a mere captain. He seemed easily enticing to any noble’s side. At least on the surface, it appeared so. For all sorts of reasons, the name Enkried spread quickly. It wasn’t long before it reached the capital. Beginning with a mention of Enkried at a single salon, it soon reached the ears of the queen. In the outdoor space of a palace where the stars were visible. "What do you think, Rua?" At the queen's question, Froc Ruagarn puffed out her cheeks. Grrrr. An expression of utmost joy and delight. What could have made the Froc puff out her cheeks? "Have you also fallen for him?" It was already known that she had met, knew, and had been with Enkried. At the queen’s question, Ruagarn spoke. "I fell for him from the first time I saw him." Although she belonged to the kingdom, the Froc was not human. No one forced her to adhere to human etiquette. That's why Ruagarn could speak so freely to the queen. Besides, wasn’t this a private setting? They conversed over a high-quality wine touched by the faeries’ hands. A few attendants stood around silently, tending to their duties. "Because his looks are exceptional?" The queen moistened her throat with the goblet and asked. From Ruagarn, a rare sentiment came, especially from a Froc who valued human beauty and appearance. "More than the appearance, he is a human whose inner spirit is desirable." "I see." The queen nodded. "And his knightly qualities?" "None." Although Ruagarn answered sharply, the queen's expression didn’t change. Ruagarn didn’t make an effort to read the queen’s mind. She was someone leading a nation. How could she easily reveal her mind? Furthermore, understanding the depths of others and reflecting them in politics wasn’t her forte. Most importantly, Ruagarn was currently shrouded in pure happiness. 'Will he really proceed?' He has no knightly qualities. She saw that herself. Yet he continues. He changes. He progresses. Ignoring the views and opinions of others. ‘Does he believe he can really become a knight?’ Logic says no. But before she knew it, Ruagarn found herself cheering him on. Beneath it all was the news that he had beaten a cult’s bishop to death. Whenever the topic of cults came up, she could puff up her cheeks thrice the size in displeasure. That would be similar to a human grinding their molars furiously. "I see." The conversation with the queen was brief. The news eventually reached Marcus. "Wow, this is truly something." He was genuinely rooting for Enkried. He felt regret for not being able to help. Considering the threats of both the Black Sword and the cult charging toward the Border Guard, he wished he could swiftly extract Enkried and a few other talents. But he survived. The damage was not significant. The letter personally written by Graham included nothing but words of wanting to quit being a lord and comments about the man named Enkried. ‘He said everything would have been in ruins without Enki.’ Marcus stroked his chin as he sat. Judging by the circumstances, it seemed Enkried was becoming the eye of a storm. Why wouldn’t he be? Even though Enkried didn’t represent the city, he was already being hailed as a hero. ‘To capture Enki.’ One could wield influence over the Border Guard. One would be a fool not to take an interest. So what should be done to prevent that? The more preparations, the better. First. 'To stop that bastard Molsen.' If one were to name the most dangerous person among the surrounding nobles, Molsen Count would be the first to come to mind, and that was not simply because of Marcus’s bias. A dangerous entity that declared himself the king of the outskirts. Because of that, rumors of a civil war erupting any moment circulated constantly. ‘Molsen isn’t the only issue.’ Marcus decided to enlist the strength of his family. The prettiest girl in the family was sent there. While it would be nice if she and Enkried found a mutual liking, he wasn’t holding his breath for such a possibility. At any rate, it all begins by holding Molsen in check. "It would have been nice to have stacked some gold coins." A murmur escaped him. If the Border Guard could manage its own affairs, numerous issues could be resolved with ease. The brain of the political strategist hidden under the guise of a war fanatic spun rapidly. How should he ensure that the surrounding nobles do not meddle with the Border Guard, specifically Enkried? 'Achievements.' Though he had no shortage of them now, the significance of past achievements would be different from those earned moving forward. Each new accomplishment would become a protective wall surrounding Enkried. For this to happen, central influence would be necessary. Exploiting the military conscription system seemed like a viable approach. 'By directly commissioning tasks, acknowledged by the palace.' This would serve as a warning to lesser opportunists to stay clear, because the palace itself had sanctioned it. Meanwhile, if the Border Guard expanded independently, all the better. 'A lord, rather than just a captain, would suit him better.' Having envisioned the final outcome, Marcus stood up. "I will meet with the head of the family." Having pledged all his support from behind the scenes, Marcus encouraged Enki to act freely. His steps were lively with excitement, considering this one of the most enjoyable pursuits he had engaged in recently. * * * Even Junior Knight Aesia heard the news and was taken aback. 'A peculiar individual indeed.' The qualities of a knight… Was he truly to that extent? Simply standing against authority and overcoming intimidation was impressive, yet the thought of him becoming a knight seemed far-fetched. Still, there was an intriguing sense of anticipation. 'Perhaps one day I'll see him here.' Would he stand beside her as an equal within the knights or junior knights? She wouldn't mind. Although they'd met only a few times, he left a positive impression. * * * Unlike Ruagarn and Marcus, the leader of the Black Sword felt his stomach churning. 'Enkried.' How could he be at ease when the one he must eliminate continued to thrive? The leader of the Black Sword mobilized the remaining members of his group. Among the nobles who had ruined their business ventures previously, one now acted as his lackey. This individual penned letters. Those letters were addressed to Count Molsen and several others. And that was not the end. The intention was to make all possible moves before he was inevitably summoned to the capital. * * * Molsen Count appeared, adorned with neatly-groomed blond hair, a mustache, and a well-trained physique draped in soft fur. "It's been a while." He spoke with a casual smile. As if visiting an old friend. Enkried thought that if there were a contest for the thickest skin on the continent, this man would surely rank high. 'Ah, Rem exists.' So perhaps he’d place second. No, considering thick-skinned individuals like Ragnar, Saxon, Audin, and even Kruna when provoked, Kreis could also contend for the top spot. Excluding himself naturally, Enkried thought, convinced it was the right judgment. His troops might have deemed the thought worthy of drawing their weapons. Nevertheless, it was true that his counterpart was indeed impertinent. Not long ago, he had secretly dispatched an elite assassin—it only took a few swings to deal with them—and in the recent battle, he hadn’t even sent reinforcements. Ignored them entirely. Yet now, standing before him and making pleasantries, his words were galling. "You should be thanking me, you know, as I've saved you from half of the bothersome tasks." The count laughed as he spoke. Who maintained that mustache of his? The impeccable angles suggested immense skill. Enkried, whose hair had grown quite long and was due for a trim, responded reflectively. "Should I be thanking you?" "Swinging swords too much has dulled your brain?" The count half-ignored the person from the Marquis of Baisar next to him and spoke. Perhaps he had reason to, given that it wasn't the Marquis himself who had come. Only a member from a distant branch of the Marquis's family had arrived. Yet to disregard them outright wasn't proper. This only demonstrated Count Molsen’s arrogance. "I think it's fine that though Your Grace did not come, a representative from the Marquis did." Enkried understood that his growing renown attracted the attention of those around him. Hadn't there been constant chatter while he was confined to resting in the tent? Kreis made sure to deliver messages without rest. In between, Kreis had certainly slipped in his own opinions. "It's hard to even say hello. Despite waiting for two days, the count beats me to it like this." Seizing the moment, the woman from the Marquis family interjected. "Do you have complaints?" To the count's question, the woman from Marquis Baisar shook her head. "Of course not." Their exchange was laden with undertones of caution. The air between them was tense and stiff. "So. You were looking for me." Enkried broached the main topic, indifferent to whether they fought or not. Both the count and the woman from Baisar shifted their gazes towards him. The woman's name from the Marquis of Baisar was Kin Baisar. She arrived with two objectives. First, to prevent the count from exerting pressure on Enkried. Second, if possible, to bring Enkried into the fold of their family. The first was a request from the prodigal Marcus Baisar. The second was a decision from a family council meeting. Considering how Marcus portrayed it, shouldn't this Enkried be inclined favorably towards them? Yet as she observed now, he seemed quite terse. Not explicitly disrespectful, but not particularly concerned either? "So you’re saying you don't only know how to wield a sword." The count spoke again. Though Enkried wanted to shrug, he resisted the urge. There was no need to express any semblance of feeling to such an individual. Would shrugging his shoulders even leave a mark on this unabashed creature’s demeanor? Certainly not. It was both intuition and certainty. "The surrounding nobles covet me. Aren't they dreaming of seizing the Border Guard, which is destined to become the largest city in this rapidly developing region, through me?" 'Is he sharp?' Kin thought to herself. He accurately read the arrangement of the situation. Wasn't it said he hadn't emerged for two days, obsessed with some epiphany? Naturally, it was Kreis who had tipped him off in advance. Even without the luxury of time to deliberate, understanding comes easily once heard. Enkried continued, "I’m not interested." "Not interested?" "Yes." "Are you pledging loyalty to the palace?" "Does it appear that way to you?" "I hoped not." They were in a small reception room. Count Molsen's eyes seemed to gleam. Seated on the sofa, one leg rested atop his thigh until he placed it down and straightened his posture. Kin perceived a shift in the count’s demeanor. And Enkried thought of Krang as he observed the count. It was the same then. The aura shifted. The count placed his hands on his thighs. Having assumed a proper and upright posture. "There is a threat to the nation that needs to be crushed yet remains unaddressed. Whose fault is that?" The count’s voice wasn’t loud. Yet it was as though it pierced through the skin with its weight. In an instant, the atmosphere transformed. "Those who perish to monsters, those who fall prey to beasts, and those who remain." The count continued. "Do you feel nothing witnessing them?" For a fleeting moment, the images of both the dying and surviving seemed to merge behind the count. Among them was a child aspiring to be a herbalist and a woman crafting spiced jerky. There was a mother who had sent her child to the army, and a soldier had taken up the spear to protect his family. The soldier fell, bleeding from his eyes, nose, and ears. "So I would like to ask. What must I offer to possess you?" The count's words carried conviction. Kin, though observing, could not speak. He would give anything if desired. Moreover, if the path is righteous and upright, this is the correct way, the count conveyed with his entire being. And it wasn’t even a completely incorrect assertion. Kin knew Molsen's estate was wealthier than any neighboring territory. He was a man who stood behind his words. He inspired and influenced those around him by merely speaking and listening. "If saving people is your desire, is the path you're walking truly the right one?" The count's voice filled the reception room. It crowded the space. One felt compelled to agree with the sentiment to remain in the room. Kin was tense, perspiration trickling down, beads of cold sweat. Instead of his usual leisurely demeanor, the count exuded a commanding presence. It felt like he needed to hear the desired response. To agree with his words, to follow his lead. That seemed necessary. And Enkried— "Jirah, ah, my apologies. I was momentarily lost in thought." Jirah? Kin felt as though she heard such words. Though he didn’t say it explicitly, it felt implied. Enkried found the count's actions distasteful. His mood soured. Words from someone concealing their true intentions. Hypocrisy was a word made for such individuals. If it were Rem instead of him, the axe might have already been swung in discontent, but Enkried did not resort to such measures, choosing instead to respond with courteous language. If it managed to cause even a small ripple in the count’s heart, his own mood might improve slightly. At times, moments arise when acting on one's feelings is necessary. Only then is peace of mind achieved. Only then can confidence in the path traveled be secured. The concept of knighthood isn't mere wordplay—it denotes safeguarding what ought to be protected. Among them was Enkried's own heart. There are times when even it must be shielded. Now was that moment. Though he couldn’t afford to clash outright, conveying his feelings through respectful language was his optimal choice. The illusion tethered to the count’s charisma shattered the moment Enkried spoke. And Count Molsen’s smile grew broader. Kin held her breath for a brief instant.