While Enkrid adjusted his senses, Krais carried out the task his commander had promised.
He had scouted out the place where the Fairy City would settle. South of the Border Guard, in a land close to wasteland, but not quite—where the waterway flowing from the river reached. Their final destination was a place winding around a small mountain range, a site suitable for a forest to take root.
In truth, it was also a location where the "safety" of the Safe Road was harder to guarantee.
Nearby stood a stone outcrop shaped like a tower that harpies once used as a nest, and below the mountains was a small forest where monsters and beasts often hid.
A barrier against monsters and beasts that come from the south.
That was why this location was perfect. If the fairies truly had the power to purge monsters on their own, it wouldn't be bad for them either.
With that in mind, Krais headed directly to the southern outpost.
Zero, the fairy, accompanied him as a guide, and as guard came his lover, Nurat.
The sword-bearing lover walked right at Krais' side, showing off her thicker forearms. She too had long since adopted Audin's body-tempering methods.
"A walking tree, you said?"
Nurat asked.
"To be precise, it is a migration spell—an ancestral tradition of the Woodguard clan."
The answer came from Zero, standing at Krais' other side. Normally fairies gave off a cold, distant impression, but Zero was different. He was surprisingly expressive.
Are all fairies the same? Of course not. Each was different. But seeing Enkrid pummel Zero half to death, Krais had a vague guess why. This fairy had been forced to learn how to express emotions.
When Enkrid trained him, he didn't just beat him with a sword. He cut and slashed with words as well.
"So this is your best? This is the extent of your sincerity? Hm, threatening, yes—but more like the kind of sword swing fit to kill mosquitoes."
Words like that, slicing at the fairy's insides. Even the most patient fairy would eventually have to learn to vent anger.
Once anger was learned, so too would follow the rest of the emotions.
Anyway, the three of them reached the Safe Road outpost, where the stationed soldier saluted them.
At first, there had been those who dismissed Krais—calling him someone who couldn't even fight, yet somehow became a member of the Madmen Unit. But those voices had long since gone quiet.
Partly because they knew if they mouthed off and were caught, it wouldn't end with a few punches anymore. But mostly because Krais himself often admitted openly that he wasn't skilled in combat.
If he said so himself, who could argue?
Of course, there were still fools who mocked him, but Krais was clever. After a few weeks where Rem's shock troop acted as his guard, even that chatter died out.
The madman with the axe would draw it at the slightest insult aimed from afar—who would dare risk it?
"What's that? You want to disappear after joining our squad?"
Rumors circulated that sometimes soldiers who joined Rem's troop went "missing."
They were just rumors, but in truth, training was brutal enough that death wasn't rare. The more intense the training, the greater the risk of injury or worse—that much was obvious.
Still, Rem had never once let one of his own die.
After that, no one dared insult Krais openly again. Whispering behind his back? That he didn't care about.
With monsters, the demon realm, and war itself to worry about, why waste concern on idle gossip?
Krais had more pressing matters anyway: learning about fairy society.
As they walked, Zero explained fairy society in detail, even sharing that his own goal was to kill every demon on the continent.
A fairy surprisingly talkative about himself. He even exchanged words with Nurat about guard duty and the recent training of Enkrid's personal troops. It was then that Krais saw it.
Thoom.
"…A monster."
The outpost soldier muttered.
They'd been told multiple times that giant walking trees were coming, but seeing it in person made disbelief inevitable.
The soldiers raised their bows. One even nocked an arrow.
But would arrows even work on that? Their eyes betrayed the same question.
Thud—
Rooted feet stamped the earth. The colossal tree came into view, silhouetted by sunlight, moving closer with every heavy step.
Upon its branches, small figures stood—fairies, watching them. Zero lifted his palm in greeting.
Krais, restraining his own surprise, said firmly:
"Do not shoot."
When Enkrid told him beforehand, he hadn't been surprised. Now—now he could let himself be.
"It's really a tree. A tree that walks. A walking tree."
Krais repeated.
"Yeah. Still surprising, even after hearing it."
Nurat agreed. Thank goodness it was daytime—at night it would have looked like a monstrous attack.
The ground shook with each step. The sheer scale shattered their sense of perspective. Slow yet fast. Massive yet graceful. It warped reality itself.
None of them had ever seen such a sight.
Bigger than giants. A tree so tall you had to crane your neck all the way back to see it.
"Guests. Not monsters."
Krais said again.
Behind him, a soldier muttered:
"…I need to piss."
"You too? Same here."
"Step under that thing's foot and you'd be a tomato."
"Ugh, why'd you make me picture that, bastard."
Their whispers weren't from true terror. If they were truly afraid, they'd be silent.
They'd heard these were guests, not enemies—so this was just nervous banter.
Still, not that they weren't scared at all.
Kak! Kak!
Suddenly, human-faced hounds (Inmyon-ken) burst from one side. This region was known for such attacks.
The south was the most monster-infested part of the Madmen Unit's territory, second only to the Fen-Hanil mountains.
The beasts didn't hesitate, charging beneath the walking trees. Running on all fours, they never even looked up to see the giants above.
Eleven of them sprinted and howled—then in an instant, all collapsed at once, rolling across the ground.
Long shafts rained down, skewering them.
If biting was their first specialty, their second was leaping. And yet—they all tripped and fell together? Impossible, unless…
Fairy archers.
From atop the branches, fairies loosed arrows in precise coordination. Hand signals flew as they shifted position.
The corpses of the hounds were crushed under the tree's steps. Boom. All that remained were black smears on the earth.
The tree giants drew closer. Some loomed taller than the outpost itself.
Krais, fully marveling at the sight, spoke.
"Welcome to the Border Guard."
"And we thank you for your welcome. Though I must say, the air here is less than pleasant. Do not think fairies are ignorant. I once worked as a mercenary through the Information Guild, you see, and my first job began in a city southeast along the river, where—"
The fairy before them rattled off words without pause. But Krais, far from bothered, understood perfectly, even interjecting at the right moments.
Tree giants might be unfamiliar, but such conversations were his expertise.
"So you mean—don't try to cheat you? There's no need. Monsters roam here often, yes. South of here, armed bandits also show up at times. But those won't be a problem for you, I think? If you settle here, our commander will be grateful. Even if not grateful, it will certainly help. If needed, we'll send troops to assist. That's why it would be best if you establish yourselves here—more precisely, just westward beneath the mountain range. That would be the most suitable place."
Fairies did not lie. But they could warp the truth.
But as long as they revere the commander, they will not twist it.
Still, the first negotiator would be one well-versed in human culture. Caution was natural.
Yet Krais had no thought of deception from the start.
Scammers needed to be spoken to in their own language. But for those who wielded truth as a weapon, one needed only to meet them with the same sincerity.
This was how Krais approached "trade."
With nothing but sincerity.
And that was enough.
The fairy smiled in satisfaction—though to Krais, it was a subtle expression he could not even read.
"Fine words. Though, as Emily once taught me, everything must still be confirmed. Emily was my first lover, you see, a receptionist in the Information Guild…"
Krais brushed aside the fairy's needless chatter and led them warmly in.
Administrative tasks and adjustments followed, but nothing troublesome.
One by one, the tree giants migrated into the land. Sometimes even boulders moved with them, startling soldiers—but none attacked.
At worst, a few southern nobles panicked, mistaking them for massive monsters, and requested reinforcements. Krais sent troops just to reassure them.
There was no battle.
"Again."
This time it wasn't Enkrid speaking, but Rem. The situation had shifted.
About once every day or two, Rem requested duels.
Enkrid never refused. Though, he didn't exactly nod meekly either.
"Hm. Will it be alright?"
"What do you mean, alright?"
"I don't usually enjoy bullying the weak."
"…Hah. Who's weak, you lunatic."
Rem pretended to take the bait, but beneath it stayed cold and sharp. His strikes blazed with passion, but never sloppy. That was the genius of Rem.
After several rounds of adjusting his senses, Enkrid finally realized his place.
By his own structured system: they stood at the threshold of High Knight. He, meanwhile, was at Mid Knight.
Though that system was more of a training framework than a power ranking.
Uské.
His unending Will made him devastating in duels. Thanks to that, he could stand against High-levels.
And the Wave-Blocking Sword as well.
Coupled with split cognition, combining strength with endurance, he could fight in long, high-speed battles. That was his specialty now.
Long battles, each strike brimming with lethal force.
Unlike Rierbart or Jamal, who dragged out fights, Enkrid pressed forward.
Of course, it wasn't just Rem who challenged him.
"Come out, Madmen Commander. I'll fix your skull."
Ragna too hurled provocations. And Enkrid accepted.
"Of course. If talent is lacking, effort must make up for it."
Enkrid reveled in it. Yet in the midst of enjoyment, he felt it diminishing—fading away.
Ordinary soldiers, every available fighter, looked to Enkrid and the Madmen Unit and burned with passion.
Rem, Audin, Ragna, even Jaxen—they too burned as they watched him.
But the truth was, none of them had ever been caught before.
Until now. They had truly fallen behind.
How could they not enjoy this moment?
"I'll beat you!"
"Lord above!"
"I'll cut you all to death!"
Rem, Audin, Ragna, Jaxen—each dove into training like maniacs.
"What now, planning to kill every knight in the world?"
Jaxen's lover teased him.
"There's someone I must catch up to."
"Must?"
She knew him well. He wasn't one to throw around words like must.
"Why, then?"
So she pressed.
He hadn't really thought it out before. But now, the answer was clear.
"…Because it's pathetic."
"Pathetic?"
"Yeah. The way he struts about—it's damn pathetic."
That's what he said aloud. But inwardly, it was different.
I stayed to be of use. I can't be a burden.
And so he trained. Soon, it bore fruit.
Fourteen days after Enkrid's return to the Border Guard—while waiting to meet someone Audin had mentioned, Enkrid trained as usual.
He hadn't yet spoken with Aetri or Esther—Aetri wanted to see him after his senses were settled, and Esther remained in her panther's body.
Even Shinar hadn't arrived; he had only briefly seen Lord Graham.
So it was training, as always.
Truthfully—thrashing his subordinates and savoring it was too much fun.
"Too little. The stimulation is lacking. You lot aren't enough to push me."
He muttered such things openly. And none ignored it.
"…Did you sell your soul to a demon when you fought those cultists?"
Rem flicked a leaf from his hair, grumbling. Spring was coming. Warm winds blew—the season Shinar often spoke of.
"I hear the whining of the weak."
Enkrid taunted him with growing skill. Sword dangling, speaking like reciting verse.
Rem's expression darkened. Lately, this had been common.
"You're dead today. Pah."
Spitting to the ground, Rem gripped his axe anew.
The tension sharpened. A duel that might well risk half a life.
He crouched low, ready to spring.
Enkrid, seeing it with his Insight, readied his sword to cut across the diagonal. Today would be like the others—unless Rem went all out with both axe and sorcery.
But then—Rem's body shrank.
Not literally. He had leapt back, so suddenly it only looked that way.
Retreating?
No. He leapt backward with startling speed, his feet stamping, kicking, leaving afterimages—fast as running forward.
And then—
Whumm, whumm, whummmmmmm!
Above his head, Rem spun a sling. The stone pouch whirled at terrifying speed.
"Not joking."
Whirrrrrr!
Through the deafening buzz, Rem infused his Will into his words.
"If you can't block this—you're dead."
Whoosh!
The sling snapped.
Boom!
Air cracked apart.
In the stretched time of Enkrid's accelerated thoughts, he saw it. A single point, blazing straight for his skull. Faster than the daggers he'd once snatched from mid-air. Deadlier.
He bent back.
The projectile scraped his forehead, clipping strands of hair, dragging them into its vortex before whipping past.
He had to roll instantly.
Bang!
The ground exploded where he had stood.
And it wasn't just one shot.
Whirrrrrrr!
Two more slings whirled at once.
One nearly vertical. The other nearly horizontal.
Twin halos, whirling side by side.
"Die, madman!"
Rem shouted with joy.
And in his words—Enkrid saw his sincerity.