Chapter 625

Chapter 625

“Ah, Crang.” Enkrid spoke the name out of nowhere as they trekked along. “I’m sorry?” Pell turned to him, looking confused. “I took off without giving him a proper goodbye,” Enkrid explained. “It is the nature of people to be forgetful. Such things happen,” Lua Gharne remarked. “I suppose so,” Enkrid replied with a nod, his pace never faltering. He hadn’t brought a horse for this journey. Even though Odd-Eye was capable of navigating the terrain, their path required them to scale heights and wade through currents. That choice alone was proof that he wasn’t sticking to the established highways. Instead, he had opted for the most direct route possible. It wasn’t a concern—their little group was more than capable of handling the wild even without the benefit of a main road. Furthermore, the monster population in these parts had plummeted recently, making travel significantly less perilous. Even if they did encounter something, there were very few creatures in this world that could truly threaten a party of this caliber. The sky remained clear, and the afternoon sun felt surprisingly toastier than one might expect for the winter season. Roughly half a day had passed since their departure from Border Guard. Having started their trek at the first light of dawn, they had walked straight through the morning. At their current momentum, they could easily sustain this for several more hours. They would wait for the sun to dip below the horizon before they even considered making a camp. “If you can’t keep up, don’t expect me to wait for you,” Lua Gharne teased Pell with a smirk. “Do I look like some pampered city boy who grew up on knight’s rations and only knows how to walk in a straight line? To a shepherd, the ability to walk is far more vital than the ability to swing a blade.” He wasn’t exaggerating. Having spent his life as a shepherd on the open plains, Pell possessed total faith in his endurance. He had spent countless days wandering the wilderness while guiding his flocks. And those hadn’t been simple, docile sheep, either. Much like Pell, Lua Gharne was no stranger to long-distance travel on foot. “Fair point,” she conceded. Lua was of the Frokk, and the Frokk were a race naturally built for the nomadic life. Their travel food consisted mostly of sun-dried insects, which occupied almost no space in a pack, and their physical constitutions were sturdy enough to ignore minor injuries. They did require a significant amount of water, but unless one was attempting to cross a barren wasteland, following a river or stream was the basic protocol for any wanderer. That was the third fundamental rule of traveling across the continent. The first? Never journey alone. The second? Avoid unpaved paths at all costs. Enkrid’s party was currently disregarding two of those three rules. However, they possessed the strength to ignore them. Observing the sun as it began its descent into the west, Enkrid shifted their heading slightly toward the south-east, moving away from the light. The path leading toward the city of the fairies was taking them away from the massive Pen-Hanil mountain range. From the vantage point of Border Guard, that entire northern territory—including the lands once held by Count Molsen and the settlement formerly known as The Gnoll’s Wail—stretched out to the north. Pen-Hanil lay in that same northern direction. In terms of the world’s geography, that mountain range loomed over the landscape like a massive roof. Certain academics had even given it titles like the Skybeam Range or the Roof Spine. There were theories that the sheer presence of these mountains caused the local climate to be much colder than other regions. Perhaps it was due to the way it blocked the wind; Kraiss would likely have known the technical details. Enkrid, however, didn’t find those specifics important. If the weather was cold, he dressed for the cold. If it was hot, he adjusted. Most people lived their lives by that simple logic. Enkrid was no exception. He was heading in this direction simply because he’d been informed the fairy city was located there—not because he had pored over cartography or formulated geographical hypotheses. His objective was merely to travel south. The initial day of their journey concluded without any trouble. During their downtime, Enkrid focused on his own drills. Meanwhile, Lua and Pell engaged in a practice match, which Enkrid watched with a silent nod of respect. “You’ve truly made progress.” He wasn’t speaking to Pell; it was Lua whose growth was evident. “I’ve survived agony intense enough to strip the skin from my bones,” Lua replied, a thin smile on her face. It showed. During their bout, Pell had brought his blade down in a heavy vertical chop—a move he’d set up by concealing the weapon behind his frame for a split second. It was a well-executed maneuver. Lua had neutralized it by using her left arm to guide her curved blade into a diagonal parry, intercepting the momentum perfectly. Naturally, neither of them was trying to draw blood. At their level of expertise, a spar was a way to gauge one another’s growth. Fighting at full capacity would inevitably lead to serious trauma. “I still perform better when the stakes are real,” Pell grumbled, clearly annoyed by his performance. Enkrid gave a small nod. Pell had a point—his swordsmanship was forged for the chaos of the battlefield. It lacked the subtle trickery required for high-level dueling. Even if he claims to be poor at feints, his fundamentals are incredibly solid… Even if Pell didn’t care for mental games, his physical reactions were perfectly honed. It was undoubtedly the result of his endless training sessions with Rophod. Since Lua’s ability to read a battlefield was second only to Rophod’s, it was only natural that Pell found it difficult to gain the upper hand in a controlled spar. Enkrid made a mental note of it. I should help Pell shore up those weaknesses. It was a small act of mentorship, regardless of how Pell might perceive it. They had eaten their morning meal at Border Guard, and their midday meal consisted of trail rations consumed while on the move. “You picked up this jerky because of the new spice blend, didn’t you?” Pell asked, clearly enjoying the food. “I wouldn’t know. Kraiss was the one who packed the bags.” “I see.” Pell nodded understandingly. Kraiss was always thorough, ensuring that travelers had exactly what they needed. It made one appreciate his presence even more. Both Enkrid and Pell had been so preoccupied with their training that they hadn’t even realized the local jerky shop in Border Guard had become so popular it had opened a branch in Martai. They had only heard occasional whispers about it. Their evening meal was a more elaborate affair. They produced a cooking pot, filled it with water from a nearby creek, and added a mix of dried produce like squash and carrots. They even added some bits of lucky fish to enhance the savory profile. Once the liquid was bubbling, Enkrid tore up some stale, hard bread and dropped the pieces into the pot. “What exactly are you making?” Pell inquired. “During my time as a sellsword when food was scarce, we used to boil water and throw in whatever undercooked dough we had. I’m just trying to make a more palatable version of that.” His skills as a field cook weren’t exceptional, but they were certainly serviceable. “This feels more like eating boiled dough than actual bread,” Pell noted. However, after taking a sip of the broth and a bite of the softened bread chunks, he stopped. He let out a long, heavy breath, looking like a man who had just taken a punch to the gut. “K-kheugh.” “I’ll improve the recipe tomorrow. I’ll throw in some beef.” “I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” Pell’s question was filled with a sort of begrudging respect. “I said I only have a few reliable recipes,” Enkrid replied simply. “Is it better than eating insects?” Lua asked, interjecting. “How is that even a comparison?” Pell looked at her as if she were insane. “Do you want a taste anyway?” she asked, offering a handful of dried grubs. Pell declined with a polite gesture. “I’ll pass. I recognize their nutritional value in an emergency, but we haven’t reached that point yet.” He then returned to his bowl with enthusiasm, devouring the dough-like dumplings and the rich broth. “This really hits the spot,” Pell said, offering a thumbs up. He even whispered something about Enkrid having a secret talent for the culinary arts. “Sure.” They settled down for the night after eating. They didn’t bother looking for a cave; a thick travel cloak beneath the canopy of a large tree provided more than enough shelter. The routine for the second day followed a similar pattern. Breakfast and lunch were quick rations. The seasoned jerky was a treat, but they knew that after a few days, they would need to switch to plain salted meat to avoid burning out their palates. Even the salted meat, though plain, had been prepared by a professional merchant in the city and was high quality. None of them found reason to complain. By the second day, their path took them past the location of the previous harpy ambush. The site, which had once been a place of slaughter and the stench of decay, felt completely transformed. “Greetings, sirs.” While they hadn’t encountered any patrols on their first day because of their shortcut, they now came across a fixed outpost. A sentry dressed in a heavy gambeson recognized Enkrid and offered a formal salute. Enkrid recalled that there were three such stations forming a defensive perimeter. The heart of the area was likely just on the other side of a nearby ridge. It wasn’t a perfect spot for a permanent settlement due to the lack of water, but it was an excellent location for a transit hub or trading post. Lately, overland trade routes were being expanded to complement the river routes. Establishing a small marketplace here would be a logical step. In the past, such a thing would have been madness. You would have had to be insane to set up a market without massive stone walls; it would have been nothing more than an open invitation for monsters to come and feast. A few tents and some sharpened logs wouldn’t have deterred anything. But the world was different now. The professional military of Border Guard had effectively purged the local monster populations. Outposts had been established, and patrols were a regular sight. Even common monsters were getting hard to find, and the bandit problem had been almost entirely resolved. After all, why risk your life stealing when you could earn a steady wage hauling stone for the new construction projects in Border Guard? A few desperate people might still try to form gangs, but they couldn’t operate in the open anymore. Of course, no winter was ever truly devoid of danger. There were always the Snow Devils that appeared during blizzards, or the Yetis that occasionally wandered down from the peaks of Pen-Hanil. But for the moment, the region was at peace. It was a delicate peace, maintained by the edge of a blade, political maneuvering, and the flow of krona. One could argue it was a forced stability, but it wasn’t an unwelcome one. Behind the sentry, Enkrid noticed four traveling traders walking together. Even when they spotted a Frokk and three heavily armed warriors, they didn’t panic. Years ago, any merchant seeing armed men on the road would have bolted in the opposite direction. Furthermore, they never would have traveled in a group as small as four. These traders were deep in conversation. From the bits Enkrid overheard, they were telling tall tales of their supposed adventures and narrow escapes. “Would you care to spend the night at our station?” the sentry offered. Enkrid declined with a shake of his head. “We have a schedule to keep. Has it been quiet out here?” “Nothing major during my shift, Commander. Although… there have been some strange reports about a giant.” “A giant?” “A few traders claimed they spotted one napping under a tree. Another mentioned that the creature looked at him and commented that his eye color was unusual.” The soldier was clearly a competent officer; his briefing was concise and detailed. “I’ll stay alert for it.” Enkrid gave the man an appreciative pat on the shoulder. “Thank you, sir!” To the men of the Border Guard, Enkrid was more than just an officer. He was a legend—a man who had climbed from the lowest rungs of society to achieve knighthood. While some might have been jealous of his meteoric rise and the fame he garnered across the province, that moment had passed. Whether it was his fearsome reputation or his genuine character, the soldiers held him in high regard, from the grizzled veterans to the greenest recruits. “Well then, we’re off.” “Safe travels, Commander!” The journey had inadvertently turned into a brief inspection of the southern defenses. Enkrid didn’t mind the distraction. He was witnessing the tangible results of his own labor and his own sword. “Shepherds believe in the right to defend themselves. But… seeing this kind of stability, it’s not such a bad thing,” Pell remarked as they hiked through barren fields and over low hills. He looked thoughtful, clearly processing the changes he’d seen in the land. “I agree. Let’s spar.” Enkrid’s response was immediate. “Right now?” “Yes.” The sun was already beginning to set, as the days were short in winter. Pell gave a sharp nod and drew his weapon with focus. Enkrid was currently working on distilling his own combat style. From his repertoire of techniques, he selected a specific approach. The Iron Wall was his foundation for defense. His full-power strike was his finisher. Now, he began to integrate a specific move from the mercenary traditions he had studied. Valen Style Mercenary Blade: “Intimidation Without a Sword.