Chapter 844

Chapter 844

“Looking back on it now.”
Esther had never felt a shred of trepidation toward Astrail. Not even once.
“They were merely an annoyance.”
They reminded her of those persistent fruit flies that swarm around you during the peak of summer—evading every swat, yet leaving you with the unsettling feeling that they’ll plant their larvae on your skin if ignored. Those were abnormal pests.
Consequently, she felt a minor sense of liberation with Astrail gone, but nothing more profound than that. It would be fair to say she harbored no nostalgia. This was why Esther remained composed and articulated her next steps with clarity.
“I need to visit a few specific locations.”
“Where to?”
Enkrid inquired. There was nothing worth overthinking in the final words left by the deceased demon. They were an enemy to be struck down upon sight, regardless of the timing. That was the extent of it.
Thus, while he was mentally processing the lessons of the day’s combat and drifting through his own reflections, he caught Esther’s remark and queried her.
“To their various dens.”
In the past, she had conducted her own investigations into Astrail; while their primary headquarters remained a mystery, she was well-aware of how to track down their concealed strongholds.
“Most of it will likely be trash, though.”
However, some of those remnants would be hazardous if left unattended. As an organization, Astrail consisted of pure psychopaths—and not the productive kind.
“There’s no telling where a colony-class beast might suddenly emerge.”
Furthermore, a random civilian accidentally wandering into one of those hideouts would lead to disaster.
“If I consider the worst-case scenarios…”
A catastrophe involving a contracted creature on the scale of the Salamander could happen all over again. Wouldn’t it be better if she performed a clean sweep now and reduced everything to ash?
Their wealth and forbidden research held no value for her anymore. This resolve was a direct product of adopting the Enkrid-style of logic.
“If neglected, it becomes a toxin.”
Therefore, a strike to eliminate the threat before it blossomed was a sound plan. Any potential danger capable of destroying a home or a life—their inheritance deserved to be treated as such. That was Esther’s logic.
“Honesty and concern are—”
The dragonkin cut himself off and hoisted his blade.
Kwarung.
The thunderous roar trailed a second behind the action. Prior to the noise, a brilliant flash erupted as the dragonkin’s weapon, Baika, intercepted a strike, scattering stinging sparks of electricity in every direction.
The lemon-hued hair of Temares bristled from the static before gradually smoothing down.
“I’ve told you to quit vocalizing my internal thoughts.”
Esther was a witch.
No matter how much she had evolved, her conduct remained on a different frequency compared to the average person. Discharging a bolt of lightning simply because she was annoyed—that was her way. In that sense, the dragonkin was her equal. Both were experts at operating on a mental track that diverged from the norm.
“I shall keep that in mind.”
He displayed no unusual agitation toward a spell that lacked lethal intent. She had truly intended it only as a sharp caution.
He was slowly integrating into social life as well, gaining an understanding of what boundaries should not be crossed.
Esther began gathering useful items from the remains of the fallen sorcerers.
Each corpse carried various trinkets. From the diminutive mage clad in plate, she extracted a heavy iron slab—a device permanently enchanted with a flight spell.
“This could be quite useful with some modifications.”
Her time assisting Aitri in the forging of Enkrid’s blade had broadened her perspective on the art of enchantment.
Several inventive concepts raced through her mind. It would be enjoyable to experiment with it later when her schedule cleared. Perhaps she could even enlist Aitri’s assistance.
“Well then.”
Esther possessed no lingering regrets. Her gaze was always fixed on the path ahead, and she knew exactly how to categorize her priorities. More importantly, if they retreated to the base immediately, the others would relentlessly mock them.
“It is wiser to let some time pass.”
A chilly, calculated decision.
Esther felt a pang of regret for making a joke born out of a mix of shame and thankfulness. Had Shinar been the one to say it, it probably would have been ignored.
“It’s not as if I’m going to pretend to swoon here, either.”
Why was a Shinar-esque jest—a ruse to get Enkrid to carry her—occupying her thoughts right now?
Regardless, Esther reaffirmed one truth. In the presence of these men, humor was strictly prohibited.
“Is it just my imagination, or does this look like a retreat?”
Rem remarked. He phrased it as a question, but the mocking twist of his mouth made his intent crystal clear.
“It is not.”
Esther retorted instantly and began to move. Even for a practitioner of magic, embarking on a significant journey required a fair amount of preparation.
“I will make a stop at Lockfried and then head straight to the destination.”
As she spoke and turned away, Jaxon observed her departure with a keen gaze and spoke up.
“Shall we give chase?”
He may not look the part, but Jaxon is quite sincere when he chooses to provoke people. If he weren’t, he never would have lasted this long alongside Rem. Naturally, if you suggested the two were a perfect comedic duo, a blade would be drawn immediately.
Enkrid gave a slight shake of his head.
“Let her be. Just let her go.”
He then focused his attention on the earth rather than the fallen enemies. Hadn’t Kraiss mentioned that this region was being tilled with light brown earth to be converted into farmland?
Evidences of that work were scattered about. Overlapping those signs, the scars of corruption and magic were as clear as day.
Kraiss intended to transform even this desolate soil into productive fields. It was the labor of creating a superior land, a better place for people to exist.
To protect such sanctuaries, they had to continue living with purpose today. The sun, dipping toward the west, hit the bank of clouds and cast a soft radiance across the horizon.
Even though the battle had concluded, Enkrid felt as though the scent of scorched air still lingered. Was his sharpened instinct and intuition signaling that this wasn’t truly the end?
“Or is it simply because I slaughtered some demonic subordinate and a vampire?”
He couldn’t be sure. The future is an enigma. Since one cannot perceive the tomorrow that hasn’t arrived, one simply pours everything into the present, always.
Thus, they couldn’t allow their efforts to terminate here today.
“Let’s head back. Temares, I imagine you didn’t even get the chance to warm up?”
“There was no opening for me to intervene. And you are clearly itching for more combat.”
“That’s right.”
At the confession he didn’t bother to hide, Temares gave a nod. Dragonkin are incredibly drawn to sapient beings with a radiant will. They gravitate toward them like flora seeking the sun.
“Let us go.”
The group began their return journey.

—

Kraiss received a full report of the events from his office. He did not celebrate the fact that his worries had been addressed.
“Will this still be insufficient?”
They had successfully halted the Salamander, a beast of the contract, and now possessed the martial power to drive back a concentrated assault of mages.
Yet the dread remained. Just as Enkrid caught the scent of burning air, Kraiss felt a premonition of terror unlike anything before.
“The cost of spurning the demon’s proposition.”
His fears centered on that single point.
Still, was there anything further he could accomplish at this moment? No. In that case, he would simply persist in their current trajectory.
“Abnaier.”
When Kraiss called out, the man with the dark-green hair looked up from his workstation.
“What is it?”
The office was far too large for just two desks; it served as a strategy room when the situation demanded. A massive tactical map was permanently displayed on the central table. It was the spot where they would gather in a circle to debate their next moves.
Kraiss stood before the map and sank into his thoughts. He had summoned Abnaier, but first, he re-evaluated his own logic.
Abnaier recognized this behavior and waited in silence for him to continue.
Kraiss fixed his eyes on the map.
“Even if we prepare for every variable and it still falls short—”
He began to partition the territories on the map. He re-examined the key markers in each sector. The weak points were glaringly obvious.
“Azpen is likely training its own knights as well, correct?”
Certainly. Abnaier wasn’t privy to every clandestine detail of his motherland, but he was well-informed. What wasn’t explicitly stated, he could deduce or forecast.
“You’re stating the obvious.”
Abnaier replied.
A duchy had to be self-reliant. Military might was the backbone of that independence. Even if they were currently overshadowed by the Border Guard and Naurillia, who could say what the landscape would look like in two or three decades?
And how long would the alliance between those two powers endure?
The history of the continent was written in chaos, not stability. Human ego and avarice were the constant engines of change.
Abnaier did not distribute his trust easily.
“We require a framework where betrayal becomes an impossibility for both parties.”
But was such a thing even achievable? For the time being, dominance through strength was the most viable path.
If a massive adult with heavy fists stood over two bickering children and commanded them to stop, the children would have no choice but to comply.
For these reasons, pouring resources into the future and nurturing talent was a logical necessity.
His home country would undoubtedly be doing exactly that.
“Send them here to be educated.”
At Kraiss’s proposal, Abnaier—despite having no real suspicion—asked for clarification.
“I assume you aren’t suggesting they be forced to defect.”
“There is no reason to compel anyone to stay. What matters is the acquisition of knowledge and the possession of power.”
Kraiss understood Enkrid. He knew the man would defend even Azpen, no matter the cost.
“We cannot produce knights in bulk—”
However, they could lay the groundwork. Enkrid had established such a methodology.
It wasn’t a perfect system.
“But it provides a benefit.”
This deal was purely to Azpen’s advantage, yet Kraiss viewed it through a different lens.
“Azpen will serve as the shield protecting the rear of the Border Guard.”
Abnaier concluded that Kraiss was a lunatic in his own right. It wasn’t just his obsession with social circles—this madman possessed an incredibly vast vision.
“Let us proceed.”
Azpen hadn’t been an ally a decade ago—in fact, they were enemies just a few years prior.
“And you intend to personally bolster the strength of a former foe?”
Was it because they were incapable of looking even ten years into the distance?
No—it was because they were painting a much larger masterpiece. They would crush the immediate peril, and when the troubles of the future arrived, they would confront them then.
Kraiss would never admit it, but this fanatic was no different from Enkrid. Both were identical in the way they walked a razor-thin line with their lives as the stakes.
Thus, from a territory that had once been hostile, candidates for knighthood began their journey to the Border Guard.
Abnaier successfully lobbied his home country, and in truth, Azpen had very little leverage to refuse.
If they desired it, the zealots of the Border Guard could have conquered Azpen already.
This was especially true after the slaying of the Balrog; news of recent victories had already reached the Azpen royalty.
“This is an opening.”
That was Abnaier’s assessment. However, the internal thoughts of the Azpen trainees arriving at the Border Guard were likely quite different.

—

Crang allowed an old, rough habit to surface for the first time in ages.
He usually avoided coarse language to maintain an air of regal authority, and because he had been lectured so often that he’d adopted a more refined tone—but not today.
“These bastards? They truly intend to go through with this?”
Marcus Baisar, the new Marquis, was prepared to side with the king. Crang spoke once more. He didn’t shout or strike the furniture, but his voice was thick with fury.
“Why? Is this just a sudden fit of insanity? There is nothing for the South to gain from this, is there?”
The friction between the southern titan Rihinstetten and Naurillia was catastrophic—far worse than the tension with Azpen.
Both nations bordered the Demon Realm to the south, and the South was prone to encroaching on the boundary at any moment. This resulted in skirmishes, and historically, into total warfare.
How many lives had been lost in those conflicts?
Even the previous Marquis Baisar would have ground his teeth to dust at the mere mention of the South.
Crang could analyze the board. Naurillia was experiencing an era of unprecedented growth. He could almost envision the southern king’s logic.
“Let us fall together.”
If it wasn’t that, then what could it be?
“Or perhaps they believe victory is within reach.”
Marcus pointed out the obvious.
The South likely hadn’t simply lost its mind before beginning to push the front line forward.
“Because they believe they have a winning hand.”
Crang knew that was a logical conclusion. Yet, it felt as though some warped spite was being injected into the situation.
“Until now, I viewed their plots not as a declaration of war, but as a struggle to divide the spoils.”
That was his interpretation of why they deployed infiltrators and conducted various shadow plays.
“So, it was war they were after all along?”
This was fratricidal carnage. A conflict where both sides would simply bleed each other dry.
What could possibly motivate this?
Regardless of the reason, they couldn’t just stand by and watch.
“Deploy the legions and inform the Council of Ten. This is the frontier protected by the Red Cloak Order. We shall not retreat a single inch.”
As he watched the South slowly advance the line, Crang hardened his resolve. Releasing his rage here wouldn’t solve anything.
“Within a month at the latest?”
Marcus possessed extensive experience on the front lines. Even without a detailed analysis, he could see a total war erupting in less than thirty days. He was certain of it.
This conflict would not be sparked by Naurillia’s hand, but by the aggression of Rihinstetten.