Chapter 645

Chapter 645

Upon hearing those syllables, Bran’s face, which resembled weathered bark, crinkled into a mess of lines. It was his unique way of showing a smile. “Ha ha.” Ermen and several nearby fairies joined in with a chuckle—some were even moved to tears. Only at that moment did Enkrid truly feel the reality of being within the hidden city of the fairies. He hadn’t grasped it initially, but it was clear that many of the residents had understood the nuance of the joke Shinar had delivered. It seemed there was an underlying sentimentality to it that resonated with them. “Fairy humor… it’s something I’ll never quite wrap my head around.” Enkrid locked eyes with Shinar as he spoke his mind. “There’s no need for you to understand. I will be right here to whisper the punchlines to you,” Shinar replied, stepping closer. She leaned in so far that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. “You’re getting a bit too close, Shinar,” Enkrid noted. The surrounding fairies who were observing the scene began to gossip among themselves. “I see.” “So that’s how they are?” “The Heartbreaker.” …Wait, what? Enkrid spent the following forty-eight hours focusing on his recovery, mending both his physical form and his mental state before he finally managed to roll out of bed. It was a given that downtime was just as vital as active drill sessions. Because he required a period of rehabilitation, he started small, flexing the muscles in his fingers and slowly working the tension out of his limbs. For three days, his training consisted entirely of bodyweight movements, progressing systematically from the smallest muscle groups to the largest. By the dawn of the fourth day, he returned to his standard morning regimen. The intensity of Enkrid’s routine was staggering to witness—regardless of whether the observer was a fairy or a human. “Already?” “Isn’t he supposed to be in bed?” “The Demon Slayer is active again?” “Does he have the blood of a troll in his veins?” He overheard all sorts of remarks. One comment felt like a direct insult—though the fairy who uttered it clearly meant no offense. Their words were born out of genuine, deep-seated concern. It was the kind of intense worry where they might actually trade their own lives for his. That specific devotion came from fairies who had never known a life outside their cloistered, isolated society. Fairies were constantly buzzing around Enkrid’s personal space. Many of them carried offerings of fresh fruit or various trinkets in their arms. There were even more startling things circulating than the “troll mother” comment. No—those were rumors, not just tall tales. “So he really is the heartbreaker, just like the stories say.” That was the consensus among the majority. How a rumor of that nature had permeated the entire fairy city was a complete mystery to him. “Why are you confused about the name? It’s because he charms several women and then simply discards them.” “When have I ever done that?” It was during this time that Zero was led over, and during the ensuing conversation, an even more ridiculous claim was made. “Lady Shinar is the source. She mentions it every time you come to the city. Constantly. It’s in every word she speaks.” He felt the urge to let out a long sigh, but he suppressed it. He had objectives to focus on. Even now, Zero was standing in front of him, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Are you still intending to go through with the duel we agreed on?” “I was worried you’d forgotten. But… is your body truly ready for this?” Pell and Lua Gharne were standing back, watching the interaction. Enkrid intended to accurately assess Zero’s capabilities, so he had no intention of being careless. It was impossible to truly know an opponent’s worth without engaging in a real exchange of blows. Only in the heat of a fight could certain truths be brought to light. Enkrid hesitated for a second before he spoke. He intended for his words to act as a catalyst for Zero—a rough form of motivation. “Oh, even if I had one arm bound and both my legs were missing, beating you would be a simple task. Sparring with you is easier than taking a breath.” In the context of fairy communication, such a statement could be seen as an expression of profound sincerity. The fairy who had questioned if his mother was a troll had proved to be an excellent teacher in this regard. Enkrid mirrored that style. It produced the exact reaction he was looking for. Zero, despite being a fairy, possessed an innate and powerful drive to compete and emerge victorious. The fairies were not a monolith. While some members of the Frokk spent their lives crafting delicate jewelry—others, like the boy before him, lived for the thrill of the fight. In response to Enkrid’s provocation, Zero gave a slow, deliberate nod. It was more measured than his usual movements. “My blade is a bit oversized for my years.” His voice remained steady, but Enkrid’s honed instincts picked up on the underlying turbulence of his feelings. ‘He’s furious.’ Zero stomped his feet a few times to find his footing, then dropped into a combat stance. “I, Zero, formally challenge the Demon Slayer to a duel.” Enkrid viewed this as the perfect opportunity to see how well Zero could maintain his composure under pressure. He genuinely liked Zero. Therefore, with a heart full of honest intent, Enkrid remarked: “Should we perhaps set the swords aside? Why don’t we just use our hands? Though, perhaps just using fingers would make it too complicated for you.” “…Human. I am going to end you.” Zero’s restraint snapped for a brief moment. A fairy who lost their cool was a target that was easy to take down. After the bout, Enkrid spoke to the defeated Zero: “Aren’t fairies known for having impeccable emotional control?” “I’m a bit deficient in that particular department.” “Then for the time being, I recommend you lean into your natural talents rather than trying to fix your shortcomings.” It was a casual bit of guidance—but Zero took it to heart, his eyes shimmering with resolve. When a warrior of Enkrid’s stature offered advice, one paid attention. And if one chose to disregard it, they had better be able to justify that choice through their performance. The following day followed a similar pattern. Zero returned for another challenge. “You’re capable of killing a ghoul, right?” Enkrid once again attempted to disrupt the boy’s focus. “Wait… is one of your parents a garden snail? Do snail fairies exist? You move so slowly I almost fell asleep.” “Graaah! I’ll finish you, human!” After several bouts conducted in this fashion, Shinar walked over and questioned him: “Are you trying to turn him into a fairy berserker?” “It’s a form of emotional resilience training.” “Are you sure you aren’t just picking on him?” “Not at all. But… what is the deal with this ‘heartbreaker’ label?” Shinar paused for a beat before answering: “I am tied to this city. I am your betrothed.” She delivered the line with her usual stoic expression, tilting her chin up. To Enkrid, it looked as though she had momentarily lost her usual poise. Her next sentence was a refrain she had been repeating frequently of late. “Let’s avoid spreading any more bizarre rumors.” “…Alright. I won’t do it anymore.” Shinar was being transparent. What had already been whispered couldn’t be taken back, but she vowed not to add to the fire. Every time Enkrid made an appearance in the city, Shinar had been telling stories about him: Describing him as a squad leader with an almost magical charisma… Claiming he was buried in love letters but refused to meet with any of the senders… Suggesting he only associated with women when there was something for him to gain. That last accusation stemmed from the fact that he only came to her when he wanted to spar, and often vanished on long treks without so much as a parting word. So, in a sense, if “gain” was defined as seeking a training partner—she wasn’t lying. What term describes a man who captures hearts but never holds them? “They call you the Heartbreaker.” Bran was an excellent listener. On occasion, he and Shinar would team up to vent their frustrations regarding Enkrid. And now, that very man was a guest in their home. Bran ignited his usual pipe and strolled over to him. “You’re looking quite spirited, Heartbreaker.” “Fairies don’t tell lies, but you certainly have a talent for bending the truth, don’t you?” “We do. We find that a bit of distortion is preferable to a flat-out lie. And we generally try to sidestep conflict whenever possible.” “So you’re a peace-loving people, is that the idea?” Bran looked down at the water Enkrid was sipping. The mark of the Dew Gatherers was carved into the vessel. That particular water—infused with spiritual properties—had the power to cleanse the blood and fortify the skeletal structure. It was one of the most guarded elixirs of the fairy race. To obtain water from that specific family usually required an immense service to the clan. And yet, there were more than five containers sitting by Enkrid’s side. ‘When I asked for even a drop, they gave me every excuse in the book…’ Fairies didn’t lie—they distorted. A memory of a talk with the Dew Patriarch surfaced: “That dew required fifteen consecutive nights of gathering.” “I’m aware. That’s why I’m only asking for a small taste.” “It is a treasure. It represents fifteen days of tireless work.” “Just a single sip.” “Fifteen nights of total dedication were spent collecting this.” Whether it was distortion or simple pigheadedness, the result was the same. The Dew Patriarch, the one who owned the supply, was stubborn to a fault. He was the most tight-fisted fairy in the entire community. “How do you find the water?” “Ah. It’s remarkable.” “Consider it a gift.” Even that stingy patriarch wasn’t someone to be loathed. Bran, if given the chance, would probably hand over his own heart. Instead, he presented a container of sap from Woodguard. “What’s this for?” “It’s tree sap. You won’t find anything like this through standard alchemy. It is far more precious than that water.” There were no falsehoods there, only more distortion. Both the dew and the sap were highly prized. One was a reagent for alchemy, while the other was meant for consumption—they served entirely different roles. Therefore, their relative values couldn’t truly be compared. Since they had different applications, there was no logical way to rank one over the other. “I won’t bother asking why everyone is falling over themselves to give me things… but this is getting to be too much.” Enkrid spoke as he took the sap. The way he showed respect for the gift, carefully putting it away—Bran found that endearing as well. Setting the gifts aside—what wouldn’t they do for the warrior who had slain a demon and saved their entire kind from ruin? It wasn’t just Bran—every single fairy held a favorable view of him. “It isn’t too much,” Bran said, shaking his head. “If you say so.” For some reason, Enkrid felt a strange sense of ease around Bran. Bran remained by his side, steady as a tree. In truth, being a wood fairy, he could literally transform into a tree—remaining perfectly still. One of the specialized arts of Woodguard was known as Treeform. Human knights possessed a skill called Assimilation, which had its roots in this fairy technique. For the fairies, merging with their surroundings was as natural as breathing. A short while later, several dryads passed by and offered him enchanted leaves—rare treasures of the forest. Enkrid took them and carefully tucked them into a cloth wrap. That brought the total to four. Bran, watching this, thought: ‘Eventually, they’re going to dig up the entire garden and hand him every single seedling.’ In other words, they were going to give him everything until they had nothing left. At that point, Ermen walked up. He was also carrying a gift with both hands. “No amount of words can express my gratitude. Please, take this instead.” Deep within the heart of the city stood the Perennial Tree—an ancient entity that had sustained the forest’s life force for ten millennia. The World Tree, as it was known in the common tongue. Ermen had brought a piece of its fruit. ‘To grant that, every member of the high council would have had to give their consent, and the queen herself would have had to sign off…’ Bran mused. But who would have the nerve to say no? “When the season turns warm, consume it. It will provide warmth and a shield for your body. However, it requires time to fully ripen. Also… Shinar is required to remain within these walls. I trust you can accept that?” “I can. She already informed me.” Not long after he had regained consciousness, Enkrid had been told the news. To pledge to spar until the end of time… was a declaration that she would lay down her life for him. And she had decided to stay behind to ensure the safety of the city. Enkrid honored that choice. Then, Ermen slowly dropped to his knees. The movement was heavy, quiet, and filled with deep respect. He placed both knees firmly on the ground. Whether one was a human or a fairy, such a gesture was only made in moments of absolute desperation. “Ermen?” Bran, seeing this, moved closer and called out to him. But Ermen did not turn his head. “I have a petition. Demon Slayer of the Border Guard.” “You can speak freely.” Enkrid rubbed the back of his head. He had taken a break from his training to try and organize the chaotic thoughts in his mind. That was when Ermen had arrived. “Instruct us in the ways of fighting monsters.” Enkrid blinked in surprise. His sharp intuition took in the history, the current state, and the potential future of the fairy people. ‘Peace.’ The fairies had existed in a secluded world, keeping their distance from conflicts, demons, and the dark realms—believing this isolation was the key to their survival. But then the darkness had manifested right in the center of their home. ‘Crisis.’ The demon hadn’t just been a generic threat—it had come within a hair’s breadth of wiping them out. It was a close encounter with total annihilation. Fairies were far from stupid. ‘If they took any lesson away from that experience…’ It was this: to preserve their peace, they had to be prepared to fight when the situation demanded it. Their worldview had to evolve. Yet, this catastrophe hadn’t been born out of simple stubbornness. ‘They were already in the process of changing… it was just happening too slowly.’ What Ermen was requesting now signaled a massive transformation. Enkrid thought back to something Shinar had mentioned a few days prior: “I cannot depart from this city. You understand that, don’t you?” “That is the fortieth time you’ve told me.” “I could repeat it for every year I’ve been alive.” “Over four hundred times, then?” “…That was a slip of the tongue. I’ll see you later.” Shinar had visited often just to talk. Her admission of a mistake continued to echo in his mind. She didn’t seem like the type of person to admit to a blunder so easily. Was she that desperate for something specific? Was she so preoccupied with another thought that her words had stumbled? “I cannot leave the city. That is a fact that cannot be changed.” That was the heart of the matter. Ah. This fairy… Incapable of lying, fairies turned to distorting the reality. As a member of a lineage of protectors, she was bound to defend the city and its inhabitants. “To combat monsters… you would require a foundation of basic training. But if I were to teach you from the ground up, I would have to stay here for several months.” Pell spoke up from behind them. Lua Gharne was faster to pick up on the subtext. “That isn’t what they are looking for.” Enkrid’s mind was even faster. “This city… its vitality is slipping away, isn’t it?” It was a lingering effect of the demon’s presence. The very energy of the land was fading. Shinar and others had hinted at this. Looking back, it was always Shinar who had prompted others to bring it up. “You were aware?” Ermen was contemplating a mass migration. Whether monsters blocked their path or humans stood in their way—they were prepared to fight through it. The fairies were now ready to venture out into the wider continent. They would face the coming hardships as if running through a bramble patch with no protection. Attempting to plant a single flower seed in a wasteland to create a garden. But if they had a solid starting point… they wouldn’t have to struggle so much. It was better to travel in a sturdy wagon than to walk across a desert on bare feet. It was better to prepare the earth and plant young trees than to wait for a single seed to take root. “Let’s begin with the migration,” Enkrid declared. That was the starting point for learning how to fight monsters. The very first lesson: Stay in the shadow of someone who already knows how to win.