Chapter 861 - Difference in Disposition
"Oh, Lord."
One of the priests, who had lost consciousness from the plague, wept as he awoke.
It was a change that had come at the very moment he thought all was lost.
"Do not worry, and rest, brother."
The one standing at their center was an Apostle of War.
"The Lord's Judgment!"
A portion of the soldiers who had heard his handiwork and song were already no different from converts.
They erected a pole and raised a new holy relic.
The symbol, shaped like a fist, was a tribute to the God of War.
"Ah-ah."
Divinity settled into the holy relic.
To one who did not know, it looked as if it were done all too easily.
'Instantly, without a rite or even a prayer?'
The awakened priest was so shocked his mouth hung open.
Is this possible?
It was.
It was happening before his eyes.
His mind wasn't so muddled as to confuse reality and dreams.
Was all of this an illusion, and had he just fallen for an evil spirit's whisper?
No.
Look at the woman singing at the center by the holy relic.
Her build was similar to that of a giant, but her voice was truly a heavenly gift.
The priest knelt and wept again.
Enkrid passed the weeping priest and approached Audin.
"Are you pushing yourselves?"
The camp was not small.
It was wide and large.
Including those coming and going, there were close to a thousand soldiers.
A thousand didn't seem like that big a number, but this was a place where that many people had unfurled tents and were living.
Even assuming ten per tent, that was a hundred tents.
There was only that much space for people, but they also needed a place to store food.
Meaning, there were also dozens of tents for storing supplies.
Supply units also came and went intermittently, so they needed a place to stay.
For the Southern Front to hold, the supply line could not be cut.
All of these were factors that increased the ratio of land the camp occupied.
Audin and Theresa had, by themselves, erected a new holy relic and covered this entire camp with their divinity.
They cleared away the malevolence mixed in the Demon Realm's rain and even changed the quality of the air.
It was not an easy task.
It looked that way to Enkrid as well.
"That is correct, brother."
Audin admitted it readily.
He nodded.
All of this was possible right now because Theresa was singing endlessly at the center of the camp.
"We cannot do it for long."
He said with a smile.
"And it will be hard to step up when it's time to fight."
Luagarne said from the side.
As a member of the knightly order, she was the brain who formed tactics and strategy.
That was her role.
She recognized the gap in their combat power.
"That is so, Sister Lua."
Audin and Theresa had poured out their divinity in place of a holy relic.
It was not something they could do for long.
"How long?"
The question was cut short, but the meaning was clear.
How long could they hold out?
"At best, about a fortnight."
Enkrid turned his body.
He hadn't given an order;
Audin had acted on his own.
"It's a loss of combat strength."
Luagarne was right.
"Acknowledged. But he feels good. They understand each other without having to speak."
The Dragonkin read Enkrid's inner thoughts.
As Shinar watched silently, Krang looked over the garrison.
It was the same air that hadn't changed even when he'd brought the Royal Guard and the royal army and struggled desperately.
"My thanks."
He murmured.
The king who wore a cream-colored cloak.
Five Royal Guards who were his escorts surrounded him, but his voice was not soft.
There were many soldiers nearby, and they heard him too.
"You have done what I should have."
The king's heart was true.
He wished for his soldiers not to die, and he wished for this fight not to be long.
He wished for the repercussions of the battlefield not to reach those who were just living their lives today.
He held in his heart not just the people of his own land, but the people of the South as well.
Was this what it meant to be a king?
"Why did you come in person?"
Enkrid asked with a casual tone.
It was a question for Krang.
The Royal Guard—the captain in particular—had an especially sour look.
It was someone he knew.
Something like dissatisfaction was visible on his face.
Of course, it was a faint shred of emotion that one could only see if one had experience observing an elf's expression.
"I do not wish for the war to be prolonged."
Krang's voice grew quiet.
It was barely audible.
Naturally, Enkrid and his party heard it.
A knight possessed the hearing to pick out such a sound, even with people shouting, "Lord! War!" nearby.
Then, Krang spoke in a slightly louder voice.
"And everyone looked busy."
This time, it was loud enough for those around to hear.
Enkrid's and Luagarne's eyes met.
It seemed a few thoughts were exchanged.
"I'll have to hear the details later," Luagarne whispered.
Enkrid nodded.
While he was talking with Krang...
"I will fill the spot Sir Audin has left."
Fel suddenly said.
His voice was tinged with heat.
He was the person with the least connection to prayer, divinity, or miracles.
He was from the wilderness, a shepherd; the wilderness was a land untouched by divinity.
Not even a common pilgrim went there.
It wasn't for nothing that the names of three groups were renowned on the continent, named after the places they live in.
The Wilderness, the Glaciers, the Black Mountains.
Those who stayed in these three places lived in lands forsaken by the gods.
Fel saw the repercussions of what Audin and Theresa had done.
People were changing.
Firewood was being added to a faint flame.
Saving people—he had never dreamed of such a thing.
Even now, in the deepest part of Fel's chest, only the sword for himself gleamed.
But.
'If I can.'
Wouldn't it be alright to move in a better direction than now?
Learning from Enkrid, had he only cherry-picked swordsmanship and a bit of resolve?
'What is more important than talent and effort?'
Audin and Theresa had burned their divinity.
With it, they poured all their strength into protecting these people.
For something more important than a sword fight.
'Where does my sword reach?'
He asked himself.
The answer did not come easily.
It was a moment no one else noticed, but Fel had enlightened himself and opened his eyes.
So he stepped forward and spoke.
Ropord looked directly at his rival's change, and his heart was moved.
He, too, took a step forward.
"I will fill what is lacking."
It was a declaration of his will to make them not even think of Sir Audin's empty spot.
Just seeing the two of them step up must be reassuring.
And the relationship between these two was truly affectionate, which was also a pleasant thing to see.
"…Lacking? I'm even without you."
Fel reacted to Ropord's words, and Ropord was cool.
"No, something is lacking. It's impossible alone. You won't be able to bear half of what Sir Audin did. Sir Theresa is also out."
It was a reality check.
"Hey, you wimp who cries for his crimson cloak every night. You should look at where you're sticking your nose in."
It was a personal attack.
"That's why I stuck it in. So you just do as you're told. Cut when I say cut, jump when I say jump. Just do that. I will fill the rest."
Their bickering was a daily routine.
Enkrid clapped them both on the shoulders.
"Save your strength."
He offered advice, too.
It would be troublesome if they wasted their strength here.
The fight with the South hadn't even begun.
If one were to pick the person most surprised by what Audin had done, it was, of course, Ingis of the Crimson Cloak Knights.
His rain-soaked hair was stuck to his face, but he seemed not to notice, just staring at Audin and Theresa, then at Krang, then back at the group of soldiers.
"If they hold out in place of the holy relics, it will be a loss of combat power. Therefore, you must stop them. What is important in the fight against the South is a small number of elites, that is, the knights' combat power. The sacrifice of soldiers is unavoidable. So please, stop the strange actions of those two at once."
Give up what must be given up.
Only then could they take even a small advantage.
To lose the combat power of two knights here was madness.
Therefore, that is what Ingis should have said.
The words that came from his head.
But what his mouth held were not words from his head, but words that rose from his heart.
"Is this... alright?"
What should he say?
Those stationed on the Southern Front were now his brothers and family.
They saw each other's faces every day.
They sat at the same table and rolled in the dirt together.
Ingis had a hand-span-long scar on his stomach.
The one who had sewn his wound then was also a soldier by his side.
Ingis could not give up on the soldiers, on the unit.
This was why Lihin-Stetten employed a strategy of targeting the common soldiers to wear down the knights' strength.
In the eyes of Lihin-Stetten of the South, the Crimson Cloak Knights were soft butter.
Butter left in the summer sun melts easily, and even a light poke will crush it.
Soft and weak.
'If I can save them.'
Ingis had been prepared to throw away his own life.
Mocking that resolve, two holy knights had protected his unit, his soldiers, his brothers.
Had all the crises passed?
No.
But the Iron Mask, Ingis, felt something hot surging up from his chest.
"It is."
An answer returned to the words he'd muttered to himself.
Black hair and blue eyes, the commander of The Madmen Knights, the king's friend.
It was the answer from the man he had seen in passing when the civil war ended.
He answered, then turned his eyes.
His gaze turned to the camp's perimeter.
The man who had originally protected this land, who had protected it until now, was walking from there.
"Right, I heard you were quite handsome, but I see you were undersold."
Light brown hair mixed with white, an ordinary face one could see anywhere.
One would nod if he were introduced as a merchant just leaving an inn to do business; one could also picture him coming and going with a cart full of fruit.
No extraordinariness could be glimpsed.
But this man was the First Sword who had supported Naurillia until now.
The unit Enkrid had originally belonged to was named after this man.
"You're the one? Enkrid?"
He approached readily and asked.
Next to him, Rem smiled with one corner of his mouth raised.
What to call it, a smile full of killing intent?
Dunbakel had a wall of vigilance raised.
"Sir Cypress."
Enkrid spoke the other's name.
Krang acknowledged him with a nod.
Their gazes met.
Even when Enkrid was wandering the continent, this man's name was already renowned.
Naturally, he had dreamed of meeting him.
He had wanted to meet him, ask him much, and learn.
'If you meet him, ask him if you have talent.'
He had even heard sneers from a swordsman companion he'd associated with.
It was ridicule for bringing up a pointless story.
It was a time when he was dreaming of becoming a knight.
It was a remark that came from saying he wanted to meet a man who already stood at the pinnacle.
"Did you come to fight?"
Knight Cypress asked.
"We came to help."
Enkrid replied.
The two stood still and began their talk.
No one tried to stop them.
The number of spectators grew.
Not just the Crimson Cloak Knights and The Madmen Knights, but even the group of soldiers who had been crying out for the god of war turned their gaze.
Even though there was no podium in the camp, it was full of people on all sides.
Everyone was watching.
"If you go all the way to the end, do you think you'll win?"
Cypress asked.
It was a sudden question.
Was he talking about the fight with the South, or something further?
The meaning was unclear.
"I don't know."
Enkrid replied.
"If you go to the end and it's still not enough, if there is nothing left at that end, what will you do?"
"I suppose I'll only know when I get there."
"Are you not scared? Are you not anxious?"
Enkrid was suddenly reminded of his conversations with the ferryman.
Those words that had always urged him to give up.
The words this knight, Cypress, just threw at him felt like a part of that.
So it was not hard to answer.
It was a phrase he had repeated to himself countless times, a phrase he had lived his life by.
"If I give up because I'm scared, anxious, and struggling, what is left then? So I just do it. I walk to get what I want, as I believe. If I cannot walk, I will crawl to move forward."
Even though he had revealed his will so simply, it seemed to hold a light.
The pat-pat-pat of the rain stopped.
A single ray of sunlight fell through the heavily overcast sky.
It was a lemon-colored sunlight that blended with the white light emanating from Audin and Theresa.
A light, tinged with warmth, spread in all directions.
It reflected off Themares's hair, brushed past Rem's expressionless face, now free of dissatisfaction, lightly touched the lips of Shinar, who had her mouth turned up in a barely visible smile, and lingered around the soldiers.
Of the watching soldiers, not one could easily open their mouth.
Silence flowed.
Even the sound of the pattering rain retreated.
Under the lemon sunlight, Cypress extended his hand.
"I welcome you."
Enkrid clasped that hand.
He had hoped for a day like this to come.
It was a moment that, in a day of the past, he had held as a dream, a wish.
'To have Sir Cypress by my side, guarding my back.'
Heeigh.
In the sky, where the rain had stopped, a winged horse flew.
A few soldiers who saw it were startled and aimed their weapons at the sky.
Only then did the soldiers' mouths open, and a commotion arose.
"Griffon?"
"No, it's a horse."
"Now those bastards have it's winged horses?"
"Bring the crossbows!"
While Ingis was stopping them, Enkrid said,
"It's a friend."
"You make friends with winged horses, too?"
Cypress asked, glancing at the sky.
"Yes, it just... happened."
"I suppose."
The beastkin and the barbarian from the West were also formidable.
He had experienced enough on his way here.
"They are an allies. The entire knightly order will show due respect."
Cypress said with a smile.
At those words, the semi-knight who had been glaring fiercely at Rem until now, bowed his head.
"My apologies for the disrespect. I am Semi-knight Ferdinand."
His attitude changed in an instant.
Rem narrowed his eyes.
Still, the opponent remained as he was.
No hostility was visible.
Through the gap, Ragna spoke.
"Can we get some cooked food now? I wish we had a field cook."
Rem heard Ragna and said,
"I'm Rem. That one over there is a directionally challenged glutton."
Naturally, it was the start of a commotion.
The Crimson Cloak Knights were the kind of people whose very momentum changed with a single word from Cypress.
The Madmen Knights...
"Enough. Fight later."
Enkrid stopped it before a fight could break out.
"Are those two a totem here now?"
Rem asked about Audin's situation, picking his ear.
"It's not a totem, it's a holy relic, brother. If you don't need your ears, I'll take them."
Audin, who heard him, greeted him, asking if he'd arrived safely.
"He's a bastard from the West who's all talk. If you talk to him, you'll only suffer."
Ragna added.
"The rain has stopped. It just now became a rain worth standing in. By the way, who built this camp? When is the commanders' meeting?"
Luagarne said, ignoring everyone.
They'd fight if she stopped them, and they'd fight if she left them.
So she would just do her own work.
"This one is my fiancé."
Amidst it all, Shinar raised her voice, uncharacteristically for an elf.
"Bewildered, flustered, what are these people? Are they shapeshifted monsters? That's what they're thinking."
Themares read some of the soldiers' inner thoughts and said them aloud.
"Hahaha."
Cypress saw all of it and burst out laughing.
There was no bewilderment.
He, too, was a man of a different caliber.
***
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