345 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

345. What Should a King Be? "What should a king be?" Marcus suddenly asked. Encrid didn't ponder deeply. He spoke from lifelong habit, having always lived to seize what he wanted. "It should be someone who follows their desires." Marcus didn't comment on the answer but instead brought up something else. "Just a few months ago, I thought the same." "Then who else should it be, if not someone who desires it?" "May I provide the answer?" It was outside the restaurant. Marcus wasn’t alone. Encrid’s gaze turned towards the exterior of the restaurant. "Seems I’ve attracted attention inadvertently, Marcus Byssar." A man shouted from outside the restaurant. "That was my intention, too. As I enjoy this kind of attention, don’t worry." Marcus replied, turning his body sideways. The man outside came into everyone's view. The lord did not recognize the face; Krais thought he might have seen him somewhere, while Encrid knew who he was. A man with golden hair. As the man loitered, the soldiers guarding the restaurant asked with a glance if they should let him in. There were no onlookers around. There wasn't anything particular to watch in people gathering in the restaurant for tea, after all. Krais had already instructed people to disperse appropriately. They wanted as few listeners as possible, unsure of what might be discussed. They stationed two trusted soldiers at the restaurant's entrance for the same reason. The man outside gave the soldiers a faint smile. It appeared like a request to be let in. He was dressed neither like a noble nor extravagantly, wearing a plain brown shirt and comfortable pants. The soldiers were confused. Should they turn him away? "Let him in." The answer came from Encrid. The lord said nothing in response, considering that he didn't seem to know Marcus either. The man’s boots clacked on the stone floor laid inside the restaurant. The golden-haired man stopped in front of Encrid. He was of average height, with kind eyes that set off his striking blue eyes. The man spoke. "It’s been a while." "Are you here as a noble?" Encrid stood and spoke more formally. Previously, when they briefly stayed in the same barracks, he’d been a soldier. So what of now? Encrid’s question hinted at that. "Be at ease. Now I'm just a wanderer, a drifter." "Is the name the same?" "Krang." The man swept back his blond hair and offered a formal greeting. He extended his hand. A handshake. A handshake was a greeting that evolved from proving there were no weapons in the hands of either party. Encrid took his hand, shook it lightly, and let go. Only then did Krais recall who the person was. Normally, Krais didn’t forget faces easily, but it had been a long time since he’d seen this one. It had been a fleeting encounter, at best. Krais only remembered it because he had a good memory. "The medical barracks back then?" Krais asked reflexively. "Correct. You’ve got an impressive memory, soldier." Krang responded while giving a slight nod to the lord as well. "And who might you be?" Graham queried as he awkwardly rose, but Marcus responded, imitating Krang’s manner of speaking. "A drifter, a wanderer, and if I might add one more thing... ahem." Marcus paused to take a sip of tea, only to realize it tasted terrible, cleared his throat, and continued. "A bastard son." Marcus seemed uninterested in standing. Seeing this, the lord sat back down after initially starting to rise awkwardly. Encrid and Krais also sat down. Krang naturally took a seat as well. The lord didn’t notice, but at the mention of “bastard son,” Krais seemed to pick up on something, and his expression briefly changed. Krang looked at everyone in turn and then smiled slightly. It was the same smile as before. It was somehow cunning but carried a familiarity that made one feel they could easily get along with him. Encrid noticed the man had a faint scar on his cheek, but his expression was as unchanged as ever. "It's been a particularly cold winter, hasn’t it? Are you alright?" Krang asked. In response to the sudden question, Encrid replied. "When you’re out there enduring, you forget the cold." "I heard you've been keeping busy in the heat of things." "And it seems like you've been keeping quite warm yourself?" "I’d hoped to just cuddle with heated furs all winter and enjoy flower festivals in spring." Krang spoke with a smile plastered on his face, and Encrid found him curiously interesting. A bastard son—whose son was he, exactly? As mentioned, a bastard son was being used to draw attention in the Byssar family. A noble family and of the lineage that has the capacity to use members of the royal family. "Royalty, then." Krais provided the conclusion. It seemed their counterpart hadn’t intended to hide it. The conversation had been leading to this conclusion all along. The mention of the cold winter referred to the battlefields Encrid had fought through, while Krang implied he was fighting his own battles elsewhere. Krang just smiled gently at Krais’s answer. Graham began to question whether he should be part of this gathering. "Graham, did you prepare good tea in the office? Let’s go for a nice cup." Marcus rescued Graham from his thoughts. "Yes, I did. I’m sure it will suit your taste perfectly." Graham had procured high-quality tea leaves, hoping to present them to Marcus as a gesture of gratitude for appointing him lord. With Marcus leading, only the escort holding a whip remained, and the rest got up to leave. "What is this about, Marcus?" Whispered Graham to Marcus as they departed. "What does it seem like?" "It seems best to act like I don’t know, even if I do." "Do just that." Graham was a man who understood his place well. Marcus valued that trait highly. Even if there was someone like Encrid in his command, he was not a man whose resolve would falter or break. "Prepare the tea." "Yes, let’s go." Graham said no more and moved on. After Marcus and the others left, Krais remained in place. Even if he vacated the spot now, his captain wouldn’t say anything odd. “Even though one might say or do something strange, they won’t suddenly declare their allegiance.” However, there is always the possibility of the unexpected. There are always those "what ifs." With anxiety brewing, Krais decided at least to keep an eye on things. The moment he realized the man was a royal bastard, Krais immediately considered dozens of possibilities. Naturally, he also thought of potential responses. What if this man demanded to join under his command? Suggested joining an impossible order of knights? Required unwavering loyalty to the royal family? Or handed him a fortune in smuggled gold coins? ‘Wouldn’t that be a good thing?’ If the money was substantial enough, wouldn’t it be worth briefly selling his loyalty? What if the fortune could establish five salons in the capital? ‘No, that’s not it.’ Krais's thinking was as swift as the sword-wielding Encrid, and as multifaceted as the multi-armed Rem. In other words, the dilemma arose and was swiftly resolved. ‘You shouldn’t trust the words of those in politics.’ The man sat here with Marcus as his backing. He brought along a bastard from the illustrious Center Favolin family, one of the five noble families propping up Naurilia, using him as a decoy. It was understandable how a royal could enter this place. His attire and behavior spoke volumes. ‘He’s traveling incognito.’ Why would he hide his identity? ‘He’s being pursued.’ If his life was threatened, Encrid’s sword, his skills, and everything he achieved would be enticing. Then, how should one perceive this man? If an internal conflict were to arise, would this bastard be vying for the throne as another king? Is this a contest for the throne between a border king and a royal-born who’s a bastard? ‘Which side should I align with?’ What benefits do I stand to gain? For now, hold. That’s the right course. Whatever the royal bastard offers, even if it’s a mountain of gold coins, declining without shedding tears is wise. ‘Or maybe, just take the advance payment and back out?’ The thought tempted Krais briefly, but he promptly dismissed it. His commander would never act in such a manner. With a stoic expression, Krais sorted out his thoughts. He was now ready to respond to anything said. "Do you know our kingdom lost its ‘language’?" But what an odd thing to say. It’s a question that reveals little of one’s intentions. Or rather, it wasn’t even a question. Krang wasn’t posing a riddle. He was simply continuing with his smooth dialogue. Krais found the voice of the man named Krang not unpleasant to listen to. His voice was strangely penetrating. Both his tone and articulation insinuated some sort of captivating force. Krais had seen a few people like this before. ‘A natural talent.’ Individuals who knew how to captivate an audience. It was in the voice, in the slightest gesture. Krang lightly tapped the table and continued speaking. "Why do all languages across the continent sound the same?" Krais had been using his wits since a young age. To survive, he did so. He used his wits for survival and coins. Therefore, he had never pondered such things. It wasn’t something he’d heard before. Had he considered it just once, he might have figured it out, but he didn’t bother. He knew as much as everyone else did. "The languages are the same?" Encrid muttered to himself. "Yes, they are. It's quite frustrating. Shall we take a walk? The sky is clear today. Being cooped up while suffering the threat of assassination feels like a waste on such a day." Encrid rose without a word. Assassins? That term has become familiar. Hasn't he faced such malevolence several times before? Encountering assassins for the first time was due to Krang as well. Regardless, if he still had a pursuer, it implied someone desired the death of the royal bastard. But the current ruler was a queen, wasn’t she? Who had the child? It was a minor query. Postponed for later. As that wasn’t where his focus should be. "Have you ever wondered how the entire continent could predominantly use similar languages?" "No." "Yes, most haven’t. Then, have you heard of the expedition to recover the royal language?" "In passing." Indeed, in some market, he’d seen people holding what seemed like glossaries tied together instead of bibles. Krais had seen them as well. Borrowing words from Gilpin, they weren’t troublesome folk. Merely people who mingled among themselves. Krang stood and walked outside. Just as he mentioned, the weather was picturesque. "The outside can be more dangerous." The escort voiced. "But it feels stuffy." Krang retrieved a canteen from his waist and quenched his thirst. Even from that action, something could be inferred. He couldn’t comfortably eat or drink, indicating he consumed only what he personally procured. Encrid walked beside Krang, matching his pace. "Don’t get too close." The guard warned. "Stay out of it." Krang silenced him instead. "Will you join us?" Krang asked Krais. Krais glanced at his commander momentarily. "Join us." "Yes." Krais clearly demonstrated whose orders he followed. With Encrid’s permission, he followed after them. "Don’t worry too much, soldier. I'm not here to cause trouble." Krang said, squinting slightly with a fitting subtle smile. If he wasn’t here to target his commander, then why did he come? "I'm here to play." Krang maintained his gentle smile as he spoke. Encrid didn’t say much, and Krais nodded outwardly in acknowledgment while harboring more suspicion internally. A royal bastard, a subject of internal strife. What business does someone like him have pretending to play? Yet, to stick faithfully to that claim, Krang behaved accordingly. Within the military compound, he merely chatted while circling the drill yard on the right. Furthermore, he made no mention of choosing sides. "It’s all because of the Empire. The Empire buried the royal language. Erased it." "Unifying the language is seen as a great achievement." Amongst the words exchanged, Krais found himself posing a natural question. The Empire's unification of language is hailed as a great achievement. Yes, that is true. But in achieving this, the royal language should have been respected. "What is language, soldier?" "Language is... hmm." Though brief, deep contemplation was Krais's specialty. His thought processes differed from others, akin to the way those hailed as sages thought differently. "A part of culture, a part of culture has vanished." "That's right, soldier." Krang smiled gently. Observing that smile, Krais thought that if he weren’t a royal, he would make an excellent conversationalist in a salon. The royal language was buried by the Empire's tyranny. The reason? To bolster their control. So, why does the Empire do this? To unify the continent? No, it's to watch the kingdoms battle among themselves and harvest gains from within. Rather than aiming for continental unification, it’s for some other advantage. What is that advantage? That’s unclear. But the rough framework became apparent. Removing language? It was to control and maneuver kingdoms as they wished. Politically speaking, it's considered very effective. "A troublesome matter." Listening to Krang's words, Krais sensed a discord. This was, in essence, ‘He’s already accepted his future as king and is envisioning it.’ Krang has already labeled the Empire as the enemy. What he said was true. Krang was confident in his victory. He took his succession to the throne as a given. What if he fails? What does it matter? The royal dynasty after his death isn’t his concern. "Earl Molsen is quite fierce, isn’t he?" Encrid also touched on a critical point, probing if he was unconcerned. "Well, it'll work out somehow." Was there no plan? Krang’s statement left Krais puzzled. "Somehow?" In his perplexity, Krais asked. Krang halted his steps. Standing there, he showed the palm of his hand as he faced backward. Encrid, the escort, and Krais stopped upon seeing this gesture. He took a step forward, distancing himself by two paces from the group. "The kingdoms fight amongst themselves, those aspiring to be kings emerge, the continent overflows with monsters and beasts. Within the royal family, noble voices rise above the queen’s head, lacking the hands to regulate them. Those called knights struggle to fill the gaps of the magical realms. People who have betrayed their loyalty for personal desires are scattered everywhere." His voice, of just the right volume, spread through the bushes beside the barracks. The voice captivated the ears of those who halted. It was akin to focusing light on a single spot on a dark stage. It had the pull of drawing in surrounding attention. Krang accomplished this with just a few steps, gestures, and words. Having drawn in the surrounding attention, Krang’s lips parted once more. "My task is to ensure it doesn’t come to that."