"Was it called the Heart of the Beast? Teach me."
Someone had once asked to learn it. Rem had thought he would be dead within a month. When the next battle was two weeks away, he figured the man had only two weeks left to live. Ragna hadn't cared at all. As long as no one disturbed him, he had no interest. He planned to simply leave the troublemaking squad behind whenever the time came. He didn't even know when that would be.
Until he met Enkrid, he had no idea what he wanted to do, or what he should do.
Before that, he had been like a carriage without wheels.
Like a child stunted in growth.
Like a statue that had stopped moving, hardened in place.
Only after he began walking did Ragna find his own will.
And that beginning had been their squad leader.
To Audin, Enkrid had been nothing less than a messenger sent by God. Though by now, his thoughts had changed.
Not a messenger, just a man living his life.
There were people like him in this world. Realizing that alone had changed Audin deeply.
The important thing is resolve.
Now it no longer mattered if God did not answer his prayers immediately.
Why do I fight?
It need not be lofty. It need not be sacred.
It need not be so noble as to demand respect.
So long as one trusted oneself, there would be no wavering.
Even if one faltered, it wasn't sin. If wrong, correct it. If late, then move now.
Even without hearing God's voice, the divine will seeped into him.
And the beginning of it all had been that madman squad leader.
"Does memorizing that bring you peace of mind?"
When Teresa had asked him for the first time, Audin had replied:
"It doesn't."
"Then why read it?"
"It's enjoyable."
"Enjoyable?"
"Yes. I read because it's fun, Sister. Now, what did you want to say?"
Theresa confessed her worries.
"Do you think the world seeks to crush you? That the giant's blood in your body will eat away at your reason until you become a monster drunk on instinct? And if you must die that way, is it your wish to die by Enkrid's sword?"
That was what Teresa said.
And though she spoke of herself, Audin heard the same words aimed at his own heart.
To seal away his divinity and wander the battlefield—was it life he wanted, or death?
And in the midst of it, he had seen Enkrid. A madman walking a tightrope on the cliff's edge of death.
"What is it that drives you, Brother?"
"Hmm?"
"Why do you fight?"
"I want to be a knight."
No embellishment, no disguise. Just a plain dream.
That was when Audin first realized what he himself wanted.
Lord, was it You guiding me?
As they each thought their own thoughts, Jaxen dropped down lightly from the roof.
"Other than killing, I see no method. And even now, you can't be killed."
He was the Dagger Master of the assassin guild Geor, master of Dawn Dew. Anyone who knew his true identity would understand how unexpected those words were. That Jaxen himself admitted he had no way to kill Enkrid right now. If his subordinate or lover had heard it, they would have told him to stop joking.
All had been pushed back and all had lost. Whether they admitted it aloud or not, in their hearts they accepted defeat. They were men who had made a habit of raging to avoid ever losing— and yet strangely, none of them looked the least bit upset. Not even Jaxen.
For before them stood the man who had shown them another path. Not one painted in blood, blades, and poison, but one painted in life, breath, and dreams. A man who, by all rights, should have long since died— yet had become a knight, had swung his sword with power, and had slain a demon. He had killed cultists, gained insights, and now stood here.
"So. How do you feel?"
Jaxen asked again.
It wasn't just the four of them. Lawford and Teresa were there too.
Six pairs of eyes were fixed on Enkrid. Even beside the roof Jaxen had leapt from, the black panther stood proud on four legs, watching.
Enkrid slid Penna back into its sheath with a clear ching and raised one hand to his head.
They all waited for his answer.
He had become a knight— that alone was astonishing.
But now, he had taken a step even beyond his subordinates.
What was it like to have come this far? They all wanted to know.
For once, instead of rivalry, their eyes were filled with warmth and expectation.
Rustle.
Enkrid twitched his brow, glanced awkwardly about, scratched his head, and said:
"So this isn't all just a joke?"
No one could answer.
What had he just said?
If it was provocation, it was a blade sharp enough to draw blood.
Rem's forehead veins bulged.
Ragna clicked his tongue.
Audin quietly began praying: Lord, do you send for one of us now?
And Jaxen somehow already had a Silence Dagger in hand.
Rem asked,
"…Shall we just kill him?"
"No need for four. Two of us would be enough."
Ragna answered.
Since Enkrid's absence, their relationship had soured so badly that people wondered if one of them would kill the other. Their subordinates had already shed blood once. Competition could sharpen skill, yes, but with light came shadow. Unchecked, such rivalry only bred disaster.
Especially among young soldiers with boiling blood. Rem's unit—young or old—were all hot-blooded men. Ragna's weren't calm either. Conflict had been inevitable.
It had gotten so bad that Krais himself had to adjust their deployments so their units wouldn't cross paths.
And yet here the two, so hostile before, now spoke with one voice.
"Draw his attention from the front. The stray cat stabs from behind, it's over."
Rem said.
"Good. You take left, I'll take right."
Ragna replied.
"Doesn't matter. Just draw his eyes."
"Fine."
The two meshed perfectly. If Krais had seen it, he would have felt both joy and grief. If they could work together now, why hadn't they before?
Back then, after nearly killing each other in sparring, the air between them had grown too murderous to control. With Enkrid gone, the Madmen Unit had been quiet. Training went on, activity continued, but the energy was different. Problems had piled up, and Krais had only managed them to avoid a disaster— because he knew the true cause. All it had taken was Enkrid's return.
"Let's talk later. Feels too awkward right now."
Enkrid said sincerely, seeing their reactions. He still hadn't quite processed it.
Rem, Ragna, even Audin had stopped short. Not that it was wrong.
"Step further and it'll be a fight to the death. And even then, I can't swear I'd beat you now."
Luagarne spoke up. She had been watching and could read Enkrid's heart.If it came down to skill and victory, one had to fight to know— but the atmosphere said enough.
Rem, Ragna, Audin, Jaxen.
None of them claimed certain victory.
"There's a gap between sensation and understanding. Refine yourself and speak again later."
If he wanted to tell Aetri what he'd experienced, he'd need to sort it out first.
So Enkrid, having barely unpacked, began swinging his sword at once. Typical Enkrid. Foolish, perhaps, but also true to himself. If something felt wrong, he moved his body until it made sense.
Not that anyone disliked seeing it.
"Hey, you damned path-loser. I'll be your guide. Join my training."
Rem's eyes curved with a grin. That kind of madness in their captain made him excited too. A madman who never gave up.
"I was about to say the same. Follow me to the mountains."
Ragna was the same. He wanted to cross blades with Enkrid again, but if they fought now, he wouldn't be able to hold back. Only real blood would stop him. A spar would not suffice. That was the conclusion.
Why am I thrilled?
Ragna basked in an exhilaration he'd never felt before.
He wanted nothing more than to swing his sword and train like mad.
Audin straightened his clothes, preparing to join as well. He would delay his unit's training to go.
"Sister Teresa."
He called.Teresa, caught between surprise and joy, asked:
"Would I be of help?"
"Yes."
Audin took her as his training partner. Unbeknownst to her, Teresa's potential was beyond astonishing, even to Audin.
She had felt a pang when she heard the Apostle was dead, but it quickly faded. She was no longer a cultist's Teresa, but the War God's Teresa, the Madmen Unit's Teresa. That anchored her heart, steady and unshaken.
The four of them were glad to see Enkrid's growth. But that didn't mean they were happy to have been surpassed.If he had caught up, then they must advance again.
"If you think it's too late and do nothing, then nothing happens."
Enkrid said that often.And it was true. So their will to move forward burned brighter.
"I'll introduce someone later. When things settle down."
Audin told him. Enkrid nodded, still refining his senses.
"All right."
He had returned, but life went on as before.
Soon after, Krais came to him, and Enkrid relayed what he'd been told.
"A cultist unit? If there were one, we'd have reports already. Cultists sneaking in under false identities is common, yes. Recently Captain Venzens nearly died from such. Catching all of them is hard."
No, there was no "cultist unit" sent by the Apostle who kept babbling even after only his head remained.
Even if such had come, they wouldn't have worried. It had only been words of provocation.
"But what is coming, then?"
Krais asked again.
"Fairies."
"And what must we be careful of?"
"When you see walking trees, don't panic and attack."
"…Will there be time for an explanation?"
"By two days at most, they'll be in sight of the safe road."
As if to confirm it, Zero approached and added details.
Krais listened to all and nodded.
"So. Don't panic when giant trees walk toward us?"
"Not don't panic—don't be surprised."
Enkrid corrected him. So Krais resolved not to be surprised.
Save the surprise for when I see it with my own eyes.
Delaying emotion made reality clearer. Better to grasp and respond to facts than to drown in unease. That was Krais's specialty.
The Fairy City.
Its hot springs were full of healing water.Food was mostly berries and leaves, yet when they first settled, they had no shortage of nuts or fruit.
And now that whole fairy city is migrating here.
Trees themselves would walk, bringing the city with them.
Was that really possible? Best to hold back shock for later.
It was enough to make him reaffirm his resolve.
Their archery and walking trees form walls as strong as fortresses. Their forest brims not with monsters but with fairies, overflowing with vitality—what they call essence. They have skilled artisans, and their treasured fruits invigorate the body when eaten.
There are also those who specialize in alchemy, the Druids, and the tobacco-smoking Woodguard, so don't be too surprised.
Yes, the Elven City is coming. The whole thing is coming.
What's the gain?
What benefit if they welcomed them as neighbors? What problems?
Krais calculated, and gains came first.
The south would gain a natural wall.
A forest of fairies was no home to beasts— it was a bulwark against them.
Trade.
That was next.
If they traded, what would they give, and what could they get?
They had master craftsmen. If they used fire, they needed metal.
But a migrating forest had no mines. Metal would be precious to them.
That meant ore would be valuable trade stock.
Crops too. Berries and leaves they had, but grain would be rare.
He had learned as much before by watching Shinar.
So they could provide those. What could they receive?
Anne.
The healer and alchemist had said it herself: fairy forest ingredients were treasures.
"Ask any healer. If they could get Fairy Spring Water, it's beyond treasure— they'd kill each other to obtain it."
Why she spent her free time napping in the training yard with the madmen was anyone's guess.
Perhaps because she recovered better there? Or perhaps she had fallen for Enkrid?
He had even told her tales of the Golden Witch and Black Flower, but she only snorted.
"Even if offered, I wouldn't take it."
To each their taste. Not worth quibbling over.
Not just Fairy Water. Alchemically, the city was a treasure trove.
Krais calculated further.
A gold mine.
One that needed no miners.
Ore for trade would be enough.
A mine where wages were paid in the goods they needed.
A gold mine of trade. Not literal gold pouring forth— but just as valuable.
"Jackpot."
Krais murmured. That was the conclusion.