Chapter 746 - The Ferryman's Words Made Sense
I will become a knight.
I will protect those who stand behind me.
I will erase the Demonic Domains.
Tracing back these vows, you could see what Enkrid truly longed for.
'Everyday Life.'
An ordinary day, draped in peace and layered with smiles.
The fruit vendor greets you with a cheerful hello; someone roasts potatoes over a fire and shares them with a hungry child.
The inn's skilled waitress, though she might click her tongue and give you a playful flick on the forehead, still looks after those same kids.
People returning from long journeys bring home gifts.
Everyone has their moments of tears, but each day is met with laughter and warmth.
Yes, this is the day Enkrid has always wished for.
The ultimate day he dreamed of living all his life.
So, does that mean he's experiencing that day now?
In part, yes.
Then, wouldn't it be enough to simply protect what's within his own walls? To let these days repeat?
That's right.
Is there even a reason to expand these borders further? No, there isn't.
Enkrid listened closely to the answer that rose from deep within.
It wasn't wrong.
"Yes, this is exactly what you have wished for."
The Ferryman's words carried weight.
There was certainty and finality to them.
And yet, the Ferryman offered a kind of reprieve.
"For now, this 'present' will continue. So you can choose whenever you wish."
In other words, don't do anything for now—just enjoy it. When Enkrid woke from sleep, he went about his day as usual. The Ferryman's words made sense. The day he truly wanted kept unfolding. Training was still enjoyable, and the thrill of growth remained just as strong.
"Your training will continue. Isn't it enjoyable?"
The Ferryman appeared at night and asked him.
He was right.
Not everything comes to a halt simply because the days repeat.
Even after death, the training and lessons Enkrid had ingrained remained with him. Was this, too, a gift from the Ferryman? Was he supposed to simply be content with this? His true goal wasn't to wander rough mountain paths, but to spend peaceful days in the comfort of a warm home.
"Is everyone busy?"
The next day, Enkrid asked Audin as he passed by.
"Lately, even Ragna's been keeping busy, and everyone's working hard."
Rem devoted himself to training his squad, and Ragna was constantly swinging his sword, always surrounded by his subordinate swordsmen.
Fel, who had been loitering nearby, jumped in.
"Why? Should I gather everyone?"
Fel was Enkrid's lieutenant, and Ropord served as Ragna's.
Even after becoming knights, their roles hadn't changed.
In truth, Ragna's troops would be impossible to control without Ropord, and as for Fel, he simply stayed by Enkrid's side because he wanted to—no other reason.
"It would be nice if we could meet in the evening."
It was no exaggeration to say that Enkrid was both Commander of the Madmen Knights and master of the Border Guard's Spirit.
Some clueless nobles had even begun to cast suspicious glances, wondering if the Border Guard was forming a new kingdom of its own.
Enkrid, for his part, couldn't have cared less about such talk, but the fact remained: he had rarely ever gathered his members by force.
He'd never summoned people so calmly—not with a command shouted in the heat of battle, but just by quietly asking.
That was how it had been since his days as a squad leader, and nothing had changed.
Hearing Enkrid's words, Fel felt his fine hair stand on end.
'Why?'
His tone was calm, his demeanor unchanged.
There was no reason for him to feel this way.
In Fel's line of sight, he spotted Audin.
Audin stood there, smiling as he offered up a prayer.
"Lord Father, do you need my hands? Are you speaking to me through this man?"
What is he talking about now?
Fel decided to ignore it and just round up the members.
First Rem—no, Rem would be last.
"Understood."
Ignoring the chill his instincts had picked up, Fel set off.
For the past few days, Ragna had been gripping Sunrise and swinging his sword from morning to night.
He wasn't honing any advanced techniques or working on his swordsmanship, nor was he just sparring for enjoyment. Instead, like something out of a northern heavy sword manual, he would settle into a stance, chop down, thrust, cut on a diagonal, thrust again with one hand, circle and bring it over, draw it back in—a constant repetition of the basic techniques. It was just like the daily drills Fel himself did.
'You can only reach greater heights if your foundations are solid.'
That was Enkrid's teaching. Whether he realized it or not, Fel had learned a lot from watching Enkrid. In truth, everyone else had too.
'Dividing the stages of a knight?'
Embedding Will into your technique—that's the beginner level. If you add your own style to your technique, that's intermediate.
At the advanced level, you're no longer bound by any technique.
'Wasn't there supposed to be a master level above that?'
What was that again?
You simply have to possess adaptability?
Supposedly, you become so free that sometimes you're a circle and other times you turn into an awl, effortlessly shifting your form.
Fel had experienced that feeling of omnipotence.
It was the sensation of being able to do anything—an overwhelming confidence that filled his entire body. He felt as though if he reached out, he could touch the sun, or with one swing of his sword, slice through the mountain ridge in the far distance.
But when you succumb to that sensation, you pour out all your Will and end up exhausted.
Fel had experienced that exhaustion too.
The only difference was that for him, the mountains were not Pen-Hanil, and the sun wasn't something in the sky, either.
'Commander.'
Because to him, the sun, the mountains, and Enkrid meant the same thing.
That's why he sought out Enkrid and got utterly defeated.
Someone else might have crumbled at that moment, singing of despair and hopelessness.
Some might have scoffed at the thought of talking about knightly levels, building on beginner and intermediate skills.
Hadn't they just become knights?
And now they were expected to climb even higher?
Some of those known as Flower Knights in the Empire might have felt that way.
Of course, Fel was not one of them.
In fact, the entire Madmen Knights felt the same.
'I can climb even higher.'
The very idea that there was something above where he was now only filled him with excitement.
If this were the end, he would have been disappointed instead.
And now, he understood why he was able to indulge in such idle thoughts.
The aura Ragna gave off as he swung his sword alone was like an impenetrable wall.
'Why is he so intense?'
It was as if he'd come across the traces of a massive Lycanthrope Colony that had been eyeing a flock of sheep.
There hadn't been a fight yet, but it reminded him of the days before a hard battle, when everyone sharpened their spearheads against a whetstone in anticipation.
'Ah.'
It was then that Fel realized it too.
They were all preparing for something.
Whoosh!
With the swing of Ragna's sword, a hot gust of wind blew past.
If someone sharpened the edge of that wind, would it actually gain physical form?
It sounded impossible, but if it was Ragna, he just might be able to pull it off.
"And what brings you here again?"
Ropord, who had been training nearby, walked over and asked.
"I have a message to deliver."
Fel recognized the fierce energy emanating from Ragna.
He wasn't idling away his time here—he was honing and refining his blade.
Why?
There was only one reason.
Because there was always just one person who set the tone among the Border Guard or the Madmen Knights.
"He wants us to gather this evening."
"All right."
Ropord picked up on it immediately. He didn't bother to ask who was calling them. Only the captain could summon Ragna. After that, Fel went looking for Jaxen and headed to a shop that served tea and desserts. A beautiful blonde woman greeted him.
'Every time I come to this place, I can't help but feel unusually tense.'
What had felt vague before was now a bit clearer to him.
'There are two on the roof.'
And one under the counter.
People were hiding all over the place.
"There are more of them than you think, so don't do anything reckless."
Jaxen suddenly appeared and said.
He hadn't sensed any presence, but suddenly, Jaxen was behind him.
When Fel quickly turned his head, he saw Jaxen squinting at him.
In that moment, as their eyes met—cold and seemingly indifferent—Fel could feel eyes watching him from all directions.
'If I try to fight here, I'll be taken down instantly.'
Of course, there was no reason to fight.
It was just that stepping inside felt like he'd walked straight into someone else's trap.
"After going a bit overboard recently, it's hard to keep myself in check. So, what brings you here?"
As soon as Jaxen spoke, Fel's unease faded.
What was that just now?
It was something like intimidation, but also a little different.
Jaxen had cloaked his senses with willpower, spreading it out to create a domain.
It was a technique that extended beyond simply seeing, hearing, or sensing with intent—he could project it outward to perceive everything around him.
That was the familiar sensation Fel couldn't quite place.
Jaxen had once used this will-driven technique in battle to sense and dispatch enemies, like he did with Aspen.
But now, he'd taken that skill even further.
"He wants us to gather this evening."
Jaxen nodded.
That familiar pressure had vanished without a trace.
Now he was back to normal.
The blonde beauty called out to Fel as he was leaving.
"Goodbye, cute little shepherd."
Fel just nodded vaguely and had barely taken two steps out of the shop when he stopped.
'I've never seen her before.'
How did she know he was a shepherd?
It's not as if he'd introduced himself in there, either.
He did know she was Jaxen's lover.
So, does that mean Jaxen, who always acts so reserved, turns into a chatterbox in bed and spills every detail?
That Jaxen?
It just didn't fit him at all.
Of course, that wasn't the case.
Geor's Dagger was both an assassin guild and an information guild.
It would make no sense if they didn't know about a top swordsman operating within their territory.
Above all, even without Geor's Dagger, the Madmen Knights were already famous.
It wasn't just one or two major incidents involving them.
Ending the civil war and becoming known as demon slayers was just the beginning.
Inside Naurilia, some believed that if the Madmen Knights joined, the long-stalemated battles in the southern warfront would finally swing in someone's favor.
Of course, that was just their opinion.
No war is ever won at a desk, after all.
At that moment, Rem was deep in the mountains, tracking and killing monsters.
When Fel finally found him, Rem was in the middle of fighting five trolls.
'Five of them have surrounded me.'
The five trolls stood in a circle, working together in sync.
It was a formation to trap their target.
Monsters often acted more cunningly than people thought.
Trolls, in particular, were notorious for this. They even knew how to use their own regenerative abilities when fighting.
While they weren't as skilled at tactics as Frogs, they still knew how to encircle a lone human.
All five trolls wielded sturdy wooden clubs. Where they had found those was anyone's guess, but that hardly mattered right now. Standing among the five trolls, Rem twisted his lips in a crooked smile. Fel could see the grin peeking through the gap between a troll's side. Then, Rem's axe moved. The axe never once clashed with a troll's club; instead, it darted like a salmon fighting its way upstream. After several swift swings, the heads of all five trolls flew up into the air. No monster can survive after being beheaded, so they were all dead. Weaving his way out from between the five corpse-like bodies, their black blood oozing onto the ground, Rem spoke.
"Just because you're surrounded on all sides, does that mean there's no way out? No—the opening is always there. If you give up, that's when you die, you idiots."
The way he trained his squad members was already well known. People who were tough by any measure all said the same thing in unison.
"Ha!"
Did he make them answer with a shout, too?
"Yeah, sorry for feeding you such subpar monster blood,"
Rem said to his axe, then signaled to Fel with his eyes.
"He wants us to gather this evening."
Once again, he left out who had called them, but everyone understood just fine.
"He could've just called us earlier."
Rem bared his teeth in a grin.
Fel felt uneasy at the sight of that smile.
The mood shifted—Rem's pressure seemed to weigh down the whole area.
"We're all going to die, Commander!"
Someone among the squad shouted.
Rem kept smiling as he answered.
"Hang in there. No one's going to die from just this."
If even Fel found this unsettling, how were the non-knights supposed to handle it?
Still, it was none of his business.
He had no intention of getting involved with another squad's training.
Enkrid's own personal guard was likely undergoing some intense training of their own.
"Well then."
With a farewell, Fel turned to leave.
Since it was summer, the days were long.
As the late sunset colored the sky, a campfire was lit.
Crackle, crackle.
Meat was grilled over the flames, and trays of fruit and jerky were set out.
Krais had brought them.
Beside him sat Abnaier as well.
The fairie and witch were also present.
Even without Fel passing on the message, they had come of their own accord.
With his usual tone and demeanor, Enkrid addressed everyone gathered.
"We're going after the Beelrog."
What he said was hardly ordinary.
But not a single person tried to stop him.
No one even looked surprised.
The frog was the first to nod.
"I've been waiting a long time."
And Fel felt much the same.
Strength welled up in his hands It would be a lie to say I didn't want to swing my sword.
I wanted to test my limits, to step forward. If that was how Fel felt, the others probably felt the same.
"I've been waiting for this," Rem said with a grin, picking up the conversation.
Ragna stood, gathering his sword.
"Where are you off to, brother?" Audin asked as he watched.
Ragna turned and looked at Enkrid matter-of-factly. "Aren't we going to face the Beelrog right now?"
It was still night—the sun not yet risen—so how did he plan to find their way, not even knowing where to go?
"I'll lead the way," Ragna said, brimming with confidence.
"Do you even know where it is?" Rem asked.
"If we walk, we'll get there eventually," Ragna answered without hesitation.
Enkrid then intervened.
"Not right now."
He was sincere about going after the Balrog—but not this instant.
All he was showing was his resolve.
The resolve not to settle for just another peaceful day.
***
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