Chapter 656

Chapter 656

“Do you recall a technique called the Beast’s Heart? I want you to show me.” Someone had once approached her with that request, eager for instruction. At the time, Rem predicted the man would likely be dead within a month. With the next skirmish scheduled in a fortnight, she doubted he would survive beyond that day. Ragna remained indifferent. As long as his personal space was respected, he was content. He intended to depart from the Mad Squad without ceremony when the right moment arrived. The problem was that even he couldn’t pinpoint when that moment would be. A warrior who had lost his path and his reason for being only found his momentum after encountering Enkrid. Before that, he resembled a wagon missing its wheels—a youth whose development had hit a wall, a statue trapped in stone. Yet, once he took those first steps, Ragna began to cultivate a resolve that was truly his own. The catalyst for everything was that specific squad leader. For Audin, Enkrid had originally appeared as nothing less than a divine herald, though his perspective had since matured. “He isn’t a messenger—he is simply a man fighting to exist.” The world holds individuals like that. Simply grasping that truth had sparked a massive internal shift for Audin. “The internal perspective is what matters.” He no longer required a direct sign from the Heavens to find peace. “What is the purpose of my blade?” The answer didn’t need to be grand or sanctified. His motives didn’t have to be prestigious or deserve the world’s admiration. Only those who possessed self-trust could remain steady. And if they did falter, it wasn’t a moral failure. Errors could be mended. If a person realized they were lagging behind, they could still press onward. Even if the voice of the Creator no longer whispered in his ear, the holy intent had already permeated his soul. The origin of this transformation was that eccentric squad leader. “Does reciting those words actually bring you peace?” When Teresa had first questioned him, Audin had given a straightforward reply. “No, not particularly.” “Then why do you study it?” “Because I enjoy it.” “Enjoy it?” “Yes, I read for the pleasure of it, Sister. If you have something to discuss, please speak freely.” Teresa had then voiced the anxieties weighing on her. “Do you feel as though the world is out to destroy you? Do you fear the giant’s blood in your veins will eventually swallow your mind and turn you into a creature of pure reflex? Do you believe that if death is certain, you would prefer to fall by Enkrid’s hand?” That was her inquiry. As she spoke, Audin realized the questions were as much for himself as they were for her. Hiding his divine nature and drifting across war-torn lands—was he hunting for a way to live or a way to die? In the midst of that aimless wandering, he met the man known as Enkrid. A madman balancing on the razor’s edge of mortality. “What is the spark that moves you, brother?” “Hm?” “Why do you draw your sword?” “I want to be a knight.” It was an uncomplicated ambition. Not a riddle, not a mask. In that instant, Audin finally grasped his own desires. “Lord, have You been observing me all this time?” While everyone remained lost in contemplation, Jaxon leaped down from the roof. “It seems there is no path forward except through blood. And currently, I lack the means to even attempt that.” The Head of the Geor Dagger, the secret society of assassins. The Master of Morning Dew. To anyone familiar with Jaxon’s true status, such a confession was startling. He had openly admitted that he currently possessed no method to take Enkrid’s life. Had his followers—or his partner—overheard, they would have dismissed it as a poor joke. They had all been forced back. They had been bested. Whether voiced or kept in silence, their spirits had already conceded the loss. These were individuals accustomed to fighting tooth and nail against even the shadow of defeat, yet their faces showed no signs of bitterness. None at all. Jaxon was no different. Standing before them was a man who didn’t forge his way through slaughter and deception, but through sheer existence and aspiration. A man who could once have been toppled with a shove had achieved knighthood—and had returned, armed and dangerous, after toppling a demon. He had ended a devil, wiped out fanatics, and triggered a transformation within his own soul. “So, what’s the verdict?” Jaxon asked the question again. It wasn’t just the core four; Rophod and Teresa were present as well. Six pairs of eyes converged on him. Near the roof where Jaxon had landed, a leopard stood tall, watching with dignity. Enkrid slid his blade back into its sheath with a metallic click and lifted a hand high. Everyone paused, waiting for his words. It was incredible enough that he had gained his knighthood, but he had now outpaced his own officers. They were desperate to know how it felt to reach such heights. A shared sense of wonder bound them together as they watched him. Just as a warm feeling of hope began to drown out their competitive nature— Scritch. Enkrid rubbed his scalp, looking around with a confused expression and furrowed brows, before whispering: “Wait, so this isn’t some kind of prank?” Silence fell over the group. What on earth was he talking about? If that was intended as an insult, it was a razor-sharp one. A pulse throbbed at Rem’s temple. Ragna made a sound of pure exasperation. Audin started a quiet prayer, “Lord, should I deliver a soul to You?” Jaxon had already gripped a Silence Dagger. Rem muttered, “…Should I just finish him?” “We don’t need the whole group. Two of us can handle it,” Ragna muttered back. Since Enkrid’s departure, the two of them had become so aggressive toward one another that they nearly ended each other’s lives. Their respective units had already engaged in bloody brawls. While rivalry can sharpen a blade, any extreme behavior carries a dark side. And with young, passionate warriors, volatility is a given. Rem’s followers, regardless of age, were all the explosive type. Ragna’s men were hardly any calmer; conflicts were bound to happen. Kraiss had been forced to micromanage their rotations just to prevent the two groups from meeting, such was the level of animosity. Yet now, the two commanders who had been trying to kill each other were perfectly aligned. “You draw his gaze from the front, and the cat strikes from the blind spot. It’s simple.” Rem outlined the strategy. “Agreed. You take the left side, I’ll take the right.” “Doesn’t matter to me. As long as he’s distracted.” “Fine.” Their teamwork was seamless. Kraiss, who had spent his days worrying they would murder each other while Enkrid was away, would have been both relieved and devastated to see this. If they were capable of such synergy, why had they spent months at each other’s throats? Ever since a training duel nearly turned into a double homicide, the tension had been suffocating. The Mad Squad had felt hollow without Enkrid. The officers kept training their men, and missions continued—but the spirit was different. The pressure had shifted. There were issues at every turn, but Kraiss saw the heart of the problem. He was merely holding the pieces together until the inevitable homecoming. He knew things would settle once Enkrid returned. “Let’s catch up later. This is… getting weird.” Enkrid spoke with total honesty after seeing their looks. He still hadn’t processed the reality of the situation. He believed Rem, Ragna, and Audin had simply chosen not to attack—and in a way, he wasn’t wrong. “If you push this further, it will become a lethal confrontation. And even then, I’m not certain I could come out on top right now.” Lua Gharne, who had been observing from the sidelines, sensed his internal state and spoke up. If it were a test of raw power and skill, only a true battle would provide the answer. But the atmosphere alone told the story. Rem, Ragna, Audin, and Jaxon—none of them would dare claim a guaranteed victory. “There’s a disconnect between your instincts and your logic. Go sharpen your focus and we’ll talk afterward.” Enkrid had intended to seek out Aitri, but he needed to digest his recent trials before he could explain them to anyone else. So, upon his return, Enkrid dropped his gear and immediately began practicing his forms. It was a classic Enkrid move. Perhaps a bit thick-headed—trying to solve a mental block through physical exhaustion. However, no one found fault with it. “Hey, you aimless idiot. I’ll give you some direction myself. Get over here and train.” Rem’s eyes sparkled with a wild light. Witnessing that obsession in her leader always reignited her own fire. That dogged, insane persistence. “I was thinking the same thing. Come with me to the mountains.” Ragna felt the same pull. He wanted another shot at Enkrid, but he knew—if he held back the way he did with Rem, it wouldn’t be a legitimate test. He wouldn’t be able to stop until blood was drawn. Simple practice wouldn’t suffice to challenge the Enkrid of today. That was his final thought. “Why am I so energized?” Ragna felt a surge of excitement unlike anything he’d known. He wanted to draw his sword and lose himself in brutal, frantic training this very second. Audin, watching the pair, adjusted his vestments. He was preparing to leave as well. General squad drills could wait. “Sister Teresa.” Surprised, happy, and slightly confused, Teresa looked up. “Will my presence be of any use?” “It will.” Audin decided on Teresa as his sparring partner. She was unaware, but her talent was more than just impressive—it was ready to erupt. She had felt a wave of grief hearing of the Apostle’s passing, but she recovered quickly. She was no longer the Teresa belonging to the cult. She was Teresa of the War God. Teresa of the Mad Knight Squad. That new identity was her foundation. The four were proud of how much Enkrid had improved—but they weren’t about to be content with being left behind. So what if he had caught up? Was that the end of the road? “If you assume it’s too late and stop trying, then you’ve already failed.” Enkrid said that often. And he was right. That was why they were all burning with the desire to advance once more. “There is a person I’d like to present to you. Let me know when you have a moment.” Audin mentioned. Enkrid, focusing on his movements, gave a nod. “Understood.” He had come home, but the rhythm of life remained familiar. Kraiss approached him later, and Enkrid asked several questions and provided necessary updates. “A cult legion? If such a force existed, my scouts would have spotted them by now. We deal with infiltrators all the time. Venzance nearly lost his life recently because of one. They’re hard to pin down.” There was no secret elite unit dispatched by the Apostle of Resurrection. Even if there were, Enkrid wouldn’t have been concerned. That claim had merely been a taunt. “So, what was it you said we should expect?” Kraiss asked for clarification. “Fairies.” “And what do we need to watch out for?” “Tell the men not to attack if they see a tree that walks.” “…Do I get a full explanation for that?” “By the day after tomorrow, you’ll be able to see them from the southern path.” As if to confirm the news, Zero arrived to provide more details. Kraiss listened intently and nodded. “So… don’t lose our minds when a massive tree strolls toward the gates?” “Don’t lose your minds. Just don’t be shocked.” Enkrid corrected him, and Kraiss decided he would save his shock for when the moment actually arrived. Postponing your reactions helps maintain focus. Kraiss was a master of that kind of mental discipline. It was better to analyze the facts than to be stalled by worry. The Fairy City. A natural spring of hot water—a luxury once you experience it. Their diet consists of greenery and fruit, but even during their initial settlement, there was never a lack of food. A whole city of fairies is relocating here. A forest that moves. Truly? No—hold the emotions. Now isn’t the time for wonder. Be amazed later. Still, it was a lot to take in. Kraiss brought his focus back. Peerless marksmen. Living trees that act as mobile fortifications. A woods filled with fairies rather than monsters. Pure life force everywhere. Or ‘energy,’ as they call it. Expert smiths. Their fruits are known to restore strength. Some are masters of alchemy—the Druids. Then there are the Woodguards who are fond of their pipes. Don’t be overwhelmed. Right. A city of fairies is on its way. The whole thing. What is the actual utility? What are the perks of having them as neighbors? In truth, calculating the profits was easier than assessing the dangers. First, it was like gaining an impenetrable shield to the south. A forest held by fairies, not beasts, naturally keeps monsters and hostile tribes away. Then, there is trade. By exchanging goods with them, the potential for profit was immense. Enkrid hadn’t meant to imply anything complex, but Kraiss took exactly what he needed from the information. Expert craftsmen. If they work with forges, they will need fuel and metal. A traveling forest likely lacks mining operations. Ore would be a high-value trade good. Harvested grains would also be a hot commodity. Anything other than forest forage would be a rare treat for them. Kraiss had inferred this much from his time watching Shinar. So, that is what they could provide. What would they receive in return? Anne. She was both a medic and a researcher. She had once mentioned that the ingredients found in a fairy wood were a dream for any alchemist. “Talk to any healer. If you could source water from a Fairy Spring, it wouldn’t just be a luxury—people would kill for it.” Curiously, Anne frequently took naps in the Mad Knight Squad’s gym. No one was sure why. Was she interested in Enkrid? Kraiss had once tried to entertain her with tales of the Golden Witch and the Black Flower—but she had just laughed. “I wouldn’t want that life even if it were offered to me.” To each their own. There was no point in arguing. Beyond just the spring water—from an alchemical standpoint, the city itself is a gold mine. As the numbers began to click into place, the scope of the opportunity became clear. A literal fortune. A resource so rich it didn’t even require a formal appraisal. The scale was unknown, but they wouldn’t even need to dig. The money you’d usually spend on a mining crew could just be used to trade for their exotic goods instead. It was a gold mine through commerce. Not raw gold, but a value that surpassed it. “Jackpot.” Kraiss whispered to himself. And truly, that was the only logical conclusion.