Chapter 394 - Dark Morning
There was no longer anything to do at the palace, and Krang would soon be busy.
It was time for Enkrid to return.
Just before they parted, Matthew, dragging his thigh, tried to follow Krang but was harshly scolded and dropped off for treatment.
"Wouldn't it be better to get treatment at the palace?"
Enkrid was asked by the Marquis of Okto as he was leaving.
The Marquis was someone who knew how to take care of people carefully and attentively.
And he had a keen eye.
If not, he wouldn't have sided with Krang.
"It's fine."
Enkrid declined. His right wrist would heal quickly enough.
If he ate properly and rested, it would get better.
There was no need to do that in the palace.
Fixing a creaky joint was something he could do himself, and both Rem and Ragna could manage basic first aid. Most importantly, Esther was there.
"If I lay my hands on it, it'll be better in no time."
She had said this confidently, hadn't she?
This was after the death of Count Molsan's body double, or whatever it was, when Enkrid's body was inspected.
"He would have died long ago if he were the type to die from this."
She had said that, and it seemed she was satisfied with herself. Enkrid didn't know what Esther meant, but he didn't press her for an explanation. It didn't seem like she was going to answer anyway, and Enkrid had accumulated enough fatigue.
He wasn't about to collapse, but after surviving several near-death encounters at the hands of the junior knight who had been beating him, and watching Count Molsan and Krang argue, there were countless things to recount.
To summarize, he had been beaten, killed, and chased.
His legs weren't shaking, but he did want to eat, wash, and rest.
There was a horrible stench from his body—blood and sweat mixed together.
As he stepped outside, he saw Rem chasing some fool.
Right in front of the palace, next to the squint-eyed man. Rem was covered in blood from head to toe, looking like he'd taken a bath in it.
When Enkrid glanced over Rem's body, Rem spoke.
"Well, I was chasing after someone who was running away after a fight."
There was a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone. Upon closer inspection, Enkrid noticed that Rem's balance was off slightly. His ankle was injured. He wasn't limping, but he had hurt himself.
"That bastard had a hidden trick at the end."
Rem answered without being asked. Even as he said this, he didn't smile.
It seemed like he wasn't relieved.
There seemed to be some sort of connection with the one he was chasing.
He also looked like someone from the west.
"Is it because your skills are lacking that you're getting beaten?"
Ragna asked seriously from behind. It was full of concern. In other words, a mockery.
That was when Rem finally smiled. Of course, it wasn't the kind of smile that showed joy or happiness.
"You might really die like that."
"Huh? Can't hear you over the sound of someone who just got beaten."
"Should I chop your ear off with an axe?"
"Can't hear you over the sound of someone who hurt their ankle."
"Oh, now I really need to use this on you."
Rem said as he began to pull something out of his coat. Enkrid stepped between them.
"Enough."
It was just another everyday occurrence. However, Enkrid couldn't help but think that both of them had become more verbal.
When did they start talking so well?
At first, it seemed like both of them would go straight to their hands rather than words.
He remembered Ragna, who had bitten into an apple and got lost.
He also remembered Rem, who had approached sharpening his axe instead of speaking.
"You two really talk a lot more now."
As he said this, Rem shot back.
"...Who's talking like that?"
Ragna blinked a few times and said, "What are you saying?"
Turning to them, Enkrid said that Ragna had really taken the shortcut, and Rem, hearing that, was truly surprised.
It was a shift in thinking.
He had cut across the palace without following any path, so it was indeed a shortcut.
"Bastard, you've really improved."
Rem was impressed, and Ragna raised his chin slightly.
"Finding shortcuts is my specialty. It's even better than swordsmanship."
"Are you crazy?"
And once again, they started fighting. Enkrid intervened, and they soon arrived at Andrew's house, where Dunbakel, Andrew, and the trainees were gathered.
No one had died.
"What's going on, suddenly running like that?"
Dunbakel spoke to Ragna, so he had to hear about the shortcut again.
Was finding a path more rewarding than killing a semi-knight?
That's how Enkrid saw it.
Dunbakel seemed more surprised by the fact that the shortcut had been found.
Dunbakel probably wasn't concerned with what was happening inside the palace. She nodded with tired eyes.
Around that time, Jaxen came back and, after a silent greeting, acted as usual.
"What about the task?"
"It went well."
At least Enkrid got an answer when he asked.
"Are you curious about the shortcut to the palace?"
Ragna spoke, but Jaxen ignored him.
Enkrid, with the help of the servants, washed and set his wrist right, applying a splint.
After finishing, Esther approached in her human form and took hold of his wrist.
He could feel quite a bit of heat from her touch.
"Endure it."
She said, and Enkrid did as she said.
As he endured the heat, the fatigue enveloped him.
Nothing was as important as resting properly.
Eating well and resting well was the way to recovery.
That was the royal path to restoring his body.
Enkrid shared a room with Rem.
And without a word, he fell asleep.
He knew he would fall into such a deep sleep that he wouldn't even dream.
So it was a bit surprising when dreams came immediately.
A boatman, black river waters, and a ferry all appeared at once.
"Sit."
The boatman said.
The ferry was much larger than before.
Was this how things changed?
The table and chairs looked like they were carved from raw wood. They were connected to the floor of the ferry, almost as if they grew out of it.
It was a bit surprising. Could something like this even happen?
But that was all. It was a small wonder—was this possible?
The boat still rocked, the boatman was still there, and the black river was the same as before.
Though the size of the ferry had changed, it didn't seem like an enormous difference.
What was more noticeable was the attitude of the boatman.
Although there was no tea, the table meant something.
It could be a place for conversation.
The boatman sat first across from him. Enkrid took a few steps on the wider ferry and sat in a chair.
It was hard. Even after two thoughts, it could not be said to be a comfortable seat.
"They say giants have great strength, frogs have regenerative powers, beastkin have superb physical control, dwarves have dexterity and stamina, and dragonkin have excellent battle instincts and ride-born beasts."
Most people would find this hard to understand, but Enkrid understood most of it.
He had once struggled and worked hard, thinking that talent and effort mattered, and that theory was important.
There had been a time when he delved into such things.
Of course, it was of no great use.
So it was a familiar story.
The giant's immense strength.
The Frog's regeneration.
The beast's athletic ability.
The dwarf's endurance.
The dragon's command over the elements.
"What then, does humanity possess?"
Sagog asked at the end of the story.
Enkrid knew the answer.
"They possess potential and possibility."
"Correct."
Purple light emanated from Sagog's black eyes. The subtle glow replaced the lamp and illuminated the table and surrounding area.
No, the lamp had somehow appeared on the table.
"Humans can go anywhere."
Was that the point he wanted to make?
Sagog continued.
"Because of that, they don't know their place."
Their eyes met. Sagog again recognized Enkrid's growth.
He was the same person who couldn't even listen properly before, but now he met Sagog's gaze. They could have a conversation.
"This, therefore, is my gift, my advice, and words born of whim."
When Enkrid remained silent, Sagog kept speaking. He raised his right hand, palm open, blocking Enkrid's view.
With just that, it felt as though a large wall had appeared in front of him.
In reality, it was only a palm, rough like gray gravel, but the sensation was different.
Then Sagog's voice overlapped, with dozens of words driving into Enkrid's mind one by one.
"It's impossible."
"You cannot escape."
"Where will you go once you leave this place?"
"If you believe you can go forward as you always have, that is arrogance."
"That is the arrogance of potential and possibility."
"Humans are arrogant. Give up. This is my consideration. Greater pain will come."
"The wall will grow higher."
"Here, you should stop."
With Sagog's words, Enkrid saw an illusion.
In that illusion, he was writhing in pain.
He had lost his way, wandering alone, unable to find direction.
Endlessly repeating agony within it. Today was without end.
There were no people, and no small changes, in this today.
That today repeated infinitely. Not despairing within it was beyond human capacity.
The moment he saw it, goosebumps ran through his body. Fear surged up. The terror filling his chest overtook a person.
Other illusions appeared.
Within them, Enkrid saw himself losing everyone again.
Everyone around him died. He couldn't stop it. His hands couldn't reach. Something beyond human strength was killing everyone around him.
Yet, he could do nothing.
With limbs lost, he could only watch.
The next illusion came.
A massive fireball fell from above.
The fireball burned everything. The body, the will, the land, the air.
Still, it didn't burn everything in one go. Within the flames, Enkrid suffocated to death.
Just looking at it, one could understand. Such pain couldn't be endured just by trying.
Everything was something the sword couldn't handle.
"Stop here. No matter the today, you will live contentedly."
Was it a suggestion? Or, as he said, advice, whim, and a gift?
Enkrid didn't know. But even if it was a gift, it wouldn't make any difference.
If it was something he didn't want, Enkrid was the kind of person who could reject even a gift.
"If you lose your way, keep searching until you find it."
Only then did he speak. It was the first word to begin a sentence.
"If I lose my arms and legs, I'll grip the sword with my teeth."
"If I cannot avoid it, I'll split apart."
Calamities couldn't be avoided. If so, he would become the calamity himself.
Enkrid said he would move forward, even if it meant doing that.
The unknown threat wasn't as important as now.
He wouldn't kneel or hesitate in fear. Just as he had done until now, he would do so again.
Sagog didn't speak further. He just watched.
Suddenly, the chair disappeared.
Enkrid fell with a thud. In reality, he would have reflexively tensed his thigh muscles to withstand it, but that didn't happen here.
The table and chair were gone, and Sagog had somehow put on a hood, no longer showing his face.
He held a lamp in one hand and spoke.
"How dare you sit at the same table as me, that's too much."
"Didn't you ask me to sit?"
Enkrid felt a bit wronged by this.
"Go."
Sagog said, and Enkrid opened his eyes once more.
It was reality.
He wished he could forget the dream, but that didn't happen. The illusions remained ingrained in his mind.
It was a today he couldn't control.
So, now. Repeating a today that was safe and secure was the best way to protect himself.
"…Did you have a good dream?"
Sometimes, Rem asked about dreams in the mornings, and at times like this, Enkrid felt as though Rem had some natural instinct about it.
Like the instinct of a barbarian.
"Yeah."
He answered and got up from his seat. Lowering his head and catching his breath, Rem spoke again.
"You were sweating cold. You mumbled too."
"What did I say?"
"If you didn't want to hold the sword, you wouldn't have."
It was his inner thoughts. It seemed he had spoken them unconsciously.
A safe, protected life?
"If I didn't want that, I wouldn't have taken the sword."
Enkrid muttered. A bead of sweat fell from his forehead onto his thigh.
It was a message for Sagog and a vow to himself.
"No, the Commander would have held the sword no matter what."
Rem said.
That was true.
Enkrid got up. It was dawn. Just before the sun rose.
"In our land, this time is called Utkiora."
A word from the West.
"What does it mean?"
"It means the chick that has cracked its egg is about to fly."
"What?"
"It's also called the dim morning."
The early morning, the dark dawn, the moment before the sun rises.
"Once the dim morning passes, it's only natural that the sun rises."
Rem murmured as if reciting poetry.
Enkrid liked that word.
Dim morning.
The darkness before the sun rises.
Wasn't it the perfect time for training?
It was time to move his body.
Crang would do his own work.
Enkrid was also going to do his.
That meant training and practice.
As usual, while practicing, he heard the news that Count Molsan had declared himself king.
***
'A month later, the Nauril Plains.'
It was morning. The person who brought the news was Aishia. There were still bruises on her nose.
When Rem saw that, he yawned and said.
"Where were you getting beaten up like that? Who did it? Tell me. I'll get back at them. I'll split that bastard's face in half."
Of course, it was a joke. Words he didn't mean, half teasing.
"It was him."
Aisha pointed at Enkrid with her finger.
Enkrid hadn't told her about the time she blocked his path.
"The Commander?"
Could Enkrid's skill be enough to beat her? No, it wasn't.
Rem's gaze turned to Enkrid.
"Take the axe. I'll give you the chance for revenge for the lady."
Enkrid spoke.
"Who's the lady?"
Aishia cut in, but Rem knew how to go along with it.
"Fine then. Breaking that idiot's wrist or smashing his face isn't hard. Is your rib healed?"
It hadn't healed yet.
Enkrid thought about it, but once again, Rem's sharp tongue had greatly improved. It was remarkable progress. And in the short sparring, Rem had been surprised by him again.
"Again?"
It was a frequent occurrence. Sudden growth, a sword changing in just one day, was it talent?
No, it was as if he had spent a different day from everyone else.
A sword that was chipped and shaped one piece at a time. A sword like a tower built piece by piece.
"Aren't you living a different day from everyone else?"
Sometimes, Enkrid was amazed by Rem's instincts.
From the dream he had this morning to now.
"Correct."
Enkrid replied with nothing more. He knew Rem wouldn't believe it anyway.
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