Chapter 729: Stirred

Some people, even after catching the fortune of a gold coin fallen on the ground, may still long for something better. Even when faced with strange luck, they might feel the fortune wasn’t enough.

But not Enkrid.

‘It’s clear.’

The air was different. The sunlight was different.

The change brought by the magic of twilight brought Enkrid satisfaction.

It was the season where warm air began to settle in.

Even Zaun, which had been clawed at by storms, was now at the time to put strength into its legs again.

“I’ll carry on Milezcia’s legacy. That doesn’t mean I’ll neglect swordsmanship.”

Everything Milezcia left behind was taken up by Magrun. Due to his own serious illness, he had already become quite versed in various medicines.

His interest in swordsmanship remained, but someone had to shoulder the duty.

If one sees that burden as a heavy boulder, it would simply be a rock. But if accepted not as a burden but as a joy, it could be done with pleasure.

Magrun was clearly the latter.

“It’s fun. Zaun’s herbalism will advance even further.”

“It’s healing. It’s not just about knowing how to use herbs.”

Anne had given him a notebook she wrote herself. It was said to contain treatments and responses according to lesions.

Judging from the content and quality of the book, if it were to spread across the continent, many people might die because of it. In other words, it was something worthy of being called a treasure.

In a world where people fight, argue, and even kill each other over a single artifact, it made sense that countries would dispatch knight orders to explore ruins.

Besides, treasure hunters knew well that not only relics counted as treasures.

“...If you gave this to me because you had feelings...”

Magrun had been mistaken for a moment.

“Do you not have a mirror? Is there no clean water in Zaun? You’d know if you just looked at your reflection in a stream.”

And he was immediately rejected.

With her delicately balanced features, Anne looked like a gentle lady on the outside, but she was a woman of grit who had crossed the continent with only a few potions.

Not to mention, she had already made a promise for the future with Ragna.

Anyway, when it’s time to stretch, one must stretch.

Just like Zaun was doing now.

By the time Enkrid had more or less finished preparing to return, carrying a sense of clarity in his chest—

Schmidt, who had persistently claimed the Empire had many rarities, brought one of them.

Enkrid hadn’t said he didn’t believe him, nor had he asked for proof. Yet here it was.

“Schmidt, is that the friend you mentioned? The one you wanted to bring?”

The man had side and back hair shaved like a razor had run across it, leaving the top and front grown out moderately. He had a large build and wore a squared, clunky club at his waist.

It was a blunt weapon with a flat, square head—quite memorable.

He wore custom-modified armor: a breastplate, pauldrons, vambraces, and thin cylindrical plates covering the thighs.

The joints were not connected, so it looked like he had disassembled plate mail and worn it in pieces. Yet the armor drew such smooth curves, it was astonishing.

Back when that guy, Panito or whatever, had shown up during a battle, he wore unique armor too—but this was beyond that.

This armor looked so naturally fitted that it seemed part of his skin.

‘Why does it look like that?’

Was it the calm and clarity in his heart?

Instead of wondering what the man said or who he was, Enkrid found himself more curious about that.

“You’re Enkrid of the Border Guard?”

The man asked.

Enkrid hadn’t yet finished observing him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t speak.

Though the man hadn’t shown any hostility or killing intent, Enkrid could see he was always ready to fight.

Even without moving a hand or foot, even without expressing any intent, it was obvious.

This man could fight at any time. His will to fight clung to him like armor. That too was curious.

Still, his words weren’t exactly polite.

“Who are you?”

He didn’t tilt his head, but it was the kind of reply mercenaries give when challenged.

If this had been some tavern corner in a back alley, with a few drinks in, the stench of vomit, alcohol, and cigarettes lingering nearby—it would’ve been perfect.

But for Enkrid, this was the expected response.

If you want someone’s name, give yours first. That’s courtesy.

“...Been a while. Getting a reaction like that. Doesn’t happen much when you stay in the Empire.”

The man spoke, raising his left hand, fingers straightened, palm held horizontally against his chest. A gesture to show the insignia.

A large circle enclosing a smaller one.

The Empire’s symbol.

Also the insignia of the Imperial Knights.

Within the Empire, that insignia acted as both passage and identification, commanding respect from all.

But this wasn’t the Empire.

“So? Who are you?”

Enkrid asked again.

The man’s lips curled. The twisted smile that followed was tiger-like.

He smiled—but murderous intent rose. And seeing that intent take shape, Enkrid judged him as a powerhouse on par with a family head.

The pressure he exuded took the form of a spiked club.

Savage and rough. That was his nature. Like a spiked club caked in blood and flesh, never cleaned.

A match for the family head?

Maybe that’s why—

Anticipation glimmered in Enkrid’s eyes.

Should they have a go?

There were so many curiosities. That armor that clung like skin. That ever-prepared will.

Most of all—he couldn’t predict what kind of attack would come.

“Valphir Valmung.”

The man introduced himself.

Enkrid parted his lips just enough to answer.

“Enkrid of the Border Guard.”

Above the basin where the storm had passed, only peaceful wind blew. And in that peaceful wind, two beasts stared at each other.

It looked as if they’d draw blades at any moment. Samcheol buzzed.

Zeeeeing.

As the sword vibrated, the man’s hand, at some point, touched his waist. He gripped the club. A sharp fang flashed. A particularly pointed fang.

“Sir Valphir.”

Schmidt said something beside them, but it wasn’t time to step in.

Nor did a fight break out immediately.

There were plenty of people stopping it. And they were heavily biased.

“That’s enough, Valmung. One step further, and you won’t walk away clean.”

“A spar is one thing. But if you show killing intent, it’s a different story.”

“You’d better stop. If you don’t, I’ll swing my sword without warning.”

The first three were: the family head, Lynox, and Alexandra.

Yet Valmung didn’t suppress his aura. He amplified it. Was he more threatening than the Medusa they cut down recently? It was different in form, but certainly dangerous.

Why did things get so tense? Who knew. It just turned out that way.

“A knight of the Empire cannot draw his sword against our hero within Zaun.”

Odinkar stepped up, his gaze sharp and resolute.

“If you want to swing a sword, go play with the monsters.”

Magrun also stepped forward, his face stiff. Even in a blank expression, emotions could show—and this one clearly showed contempt.

“Hey, who are you?”

Even the most beautiful giant woman, who had once called herself a slave, Riley and Kato, and the children who had trained under Enkrid, came forward.

Before long, all of Zaun had rushed in, pressing the Imperial knight.

“Who’s that bastard?”

“Why’s he acting like that toward our Enki?”

“Is that a threat? He’s practically oozing killing intent.”

“Just because he’s a knight doesn’t mean a sword won’t cut him.”

Truly fearless.

But it wasn’t a bad feeling.

They were reacting to the mere fact that someone was threatening their hero.

It’s only natural to react when something precious is touched.

To ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ them, Enkrid had become someone precious.

Of course, Enkrid could handle himself. But more than that, they just couldn’t stand watching someone charge at him out of nowhere.

So yes, something about it did stir his chest.

Valphir Valmung, the man who had revealed his name, stared at Enkrid and was the first to let his aura recede.

“Sir Valphir.”

Schmidt, sweating, grabbed his arm.

“Imperial knight Valphir Valmung.”

He said it again, smiling and extending a hand.

When Enkrid instinctively reached to shake it, the family head, Alexandra, and Lynox all stepped forward.

“I came to help Zaun and have no ill intent toward this man. Hm?”

Valmung addressed the three, who clearly knew him.

“And you all don’t look in perfect condition. Don’t push yourselves.”

As Valmung finished, Odinkar interjected.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

He had already moved to stand beside Enkrid. Seeing all of Zaun standing behind him, Valmung let out a dry laugh.

“Schmidt said this guy saved Zaun. Thought it might be an exaggeration, but... looks real.”

Schmidt shook his head.

“Told you already.”

“In any case, I mean no harm.”

Then finally, he extended his hand.

When Enkrid gripped it, Valmung used Will to tighten his grip—but Enkrid’s body had been trained by none other than Audin.

When it came to grip strength, he was second only to Audin in the entire Mad Platoon.

Crack-crack-crack.

The clasped hands of two knights made a bizarre sound, but neither of their bones broke.

“You’re strong.”

Valphir Valmung said, slightly grimacing from the pain.

“First time meeting an Imperial knight.”

Enkrid replied nonchalantly and let go.

Then, as they talked, it came out that Valphir Valmung, an Imperial knight, had come partly to aid Zaun.

“Isn’t that a bit early?”

To Odinkar’s question, Valmung explained that when he got Schmidt’s message, he was already chasing the leader of a bandit group—but the guy fled, so his route changed and brought him here.

But why would a knight be chasing a bandit?

Turns out the man being chased was also knight-level.

The scale of crime in the Empire must be something else.

“I used to be in the military, so I knew him. He awakened some talent, but started causing trouble. Has a hobby of killing people.”

There are all kinds of people in the world—and some just deserve curses. That’s how Enkrid heard it.

Valmung had planned to kill the fugitive first, but since the guy changed direction nearby, he stopped here and planned to resume the pursuit afterward.

He could’ve just left again—

“Want to come with me?”

He suddenly invited Enkrid to join.

“I have someone I’m waiting for, so I can’t leave right away. But isn’t your chase urgent?”

Enkrid asked, but Valmung shook his head with a grin.

“Eh, a day or two won’t matter.”

If he said that, then it wasn’t really urgent. So then why did his help to Zaun come late? Not something to press him on.

‘Looking at it from a distance...’

Was he planning to appear dramatically once Zaun weakened?

But because of Enkrid, that didn’t happen. And now he’d learned something more.

‘Zaun is in an unspoken alliance with the Empire.’

Otherwise, this kind of exchange wouldn’t happen. That’s why the family head and others knew Valmung.

So who arranged this kind of setup?

‘Heskal.’

A third contingency for the continuation of Zaun.

If all else failed, to bring them under the Empire’s wing.

So they couldn’t afford to become enemies.

Yet everyone in Zaun had stood up against the Imperial knight for Enkrid.

The family head looked to him, and Enkrid answered first.

“If Ragna doesn’t come, I’m not leaving. If I go without him, we might never meet again.”

Telling Ragna to come find him would mean waiting until their next life.

But then Valmung, saying he would wait, threw out an awfully tempting bait.

“Don’t you want to see Imperial swordsmanship? I’m not originally from the Empire, but the guy I’m chasing is a master of it.”

And Enkrid, the fish, found that bait hard to resist.

‘Should I leave Anne behind?’

She’d be enough as a guide.

Ragna said it would take at least a week longer. Something about needing that much time to settle the sunrise?

Valmung, perhaps with a habit of speaking provocatively, poked at people’s nerves every time he talked. But Enkrid found that entertaining.

What a rare kind of man—an Imperial knight, no less.

To say he wasn’t curious would be a lie.

And he didn’t think this man intended him any harm.

“So? What do you say? And the rest of you, don’t worry. I swear on the honor of the Imperial Knights—I won’t harm this man.”

Valmung offered those words to settle everyone’s complaints.

He might not be an orator, but he was someone who knew how to deftly control a situation.