Chapter 63 - Knock
It didn't take long.
As expected of Jaxen.
By the time the sun was overhead, the unit had set out, and before the sunset had even touched the earth, Jaxen returned.
"You're quick."
It was after finishing a meal of pumpkin soup and well-cooked pork hind shank.
Rem patted his stomach, seemingly teasing them about how satisfying the meal was.
Jaxen didn't even glance at Rem, instead directing his words to Enkrid.
"I'll guide you."
He seemed ready to set out immediately.
"Sit down."
Enkrid, still seated, spoke.
Jaxen hesitated briefly.
Though the location had been identified, delaying too long could alert the target that their trail had been discovered.
The enemy might hide or even prepare a countermeasure.
Or worse, they could sever the trail completely and disappear without a trace.
Taking unnecessary risks wasn't wise.
If it had been up to Jaxen alone—if he were the one to decide and act—he wouldn't have hesitated.
As thoughts churned in his mind, the squad leader's voice cut through.
"The pumpkin soup here is good."
Who didn't know that?
The inn was called Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup, after all.
It was known for having the best food among the four inns located at the marketplace crossroads.
"Krais even opened his own wallet. Let's eat first."
Only after Enkrid repeated himself did Jaxen sit down.
For some reason, neither Rem, Ragna, nor Audin said anything either.
Jaxen brushed the snow off his shoulders and head.
The warmth of the fireplace quickly melted the remaining snow, dampening his outer clothes slightly, but it wasn't enough to be uncomfortable.
"One serving of pumpkin soup and the barbecue we had earlier, please."
"Your party member has arrived! Right away!" The waitress responded cheerfully.
She was an upbeat individual.
Most of the squad seemed to like the Pumpkin Soup Inn.
Good food has a way of earning favor.
While it might not be fair to the unit's cooks, as Ragna once put it, the food back at the camp often felt like torture for the palate.
Occasionally, it was decent, but generally, it left much to be desired.
In contrast, the meals at Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup Inn were exceptional—beyond exceptional, even.
It was rumored that the best chef in Border Guard resided here.
"It's not good to stall for time," Jaxen said as he sat down.
Enkrid nodded in agreement.
"It's still snowing."
Even Enkrid wouldn't want to endure grueling work in such weather, especially if it wasn't sword or martial arts training.
To him, snow was nothing more than the devil's nuisance.
Likely, the entire unit shared the sentiment.
If they attacked the thief guild and returned now, the accumulated snow would be waiting for them like an unwelcome guest.
That's why Rem and the others didn't object.
It also explained why Krais had opened his wallet.
Realizing this, Jaxen nodded. "I see."
He then focused entirely on eating.
By the time twilight crept across the land, everyone, including Enkrid, stood up and prepared to leave.
"Let's go."
"Come back again!" The cheerful waitress called out.
Krais gave her a slight nod in acknowledgment.
The two seemed to know each other.
Throughout their time at the inn, they had been seen whispering to each other frequently.
"Do you know her?" Enkrid asked.
"Her name is Reysa, seventeen years old. Her father's a cobbler, and her mother's a weaver. Neither has ever joined a guild."
A cobbler crafted shoes from leather or other materials, while a weaver made cloth.
Both were common professions.
Even though manufacturing and woodworking guilds existed in the city, not joining them likely meant the couple's skills weren't particularly remarkable.
"Her dream is to someday open her own inn in the capital. For now, she's focused on learning the culinary skills of Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup Inn."
"She's ambitious."
Rem chimed in.
It was true—running an inn wasn't an easy feat.
Beyond the substantial funds required, hiring armed guards was a necessity.
Selling food and drinks often led to rowdy behavior, and while the snow today had kept things relatively quiet, under normal circumstances, fights would likely have already broken out.
Even earlier, when they left, the armed guards had been keeping watch.
To Enkrid, the guards looked like retired soldiers.
Hiring former soldiers as guards was common in the Border Guard since they could handle most disturbances discreetly.
For more significant issues, however, military police would still need to be summoned.
Having ties within the military allowed for quicker response times, which was why employing retired soldiers was a practical choice for establishments in Border Guard.
Running an inn here also came with high taxes.
By Border Guard standards, an inn needed not only guest rooms and dining facilities but also conference halls, private training grounds, and even a tavern.
Without a lord or manor in Border Guard, inns often served as venues for both minor and significant gatherings.
Although the unit had its own meeting rooms, they were part of a military facility and off-limits to outsiders.
Given such circumstances, inns flourished.
However, setting up such an establishment in the capital was an entirely different matter.
It was an ambitious goal, but not impossible.
"You know her in detail," Enkrid remarked as he followed Jaxen, who led the way.
"Pretty women are all potential future customers."
Krais, after all, aimed to open a salon exclusively for women—staffed entirely by handsome men.
The man had a unique imagination, intending to empty noblewomen's purses using charm and wit.
Krais, uneasy, spoke up again.
"Do you think the Lake Panther will be okay? It doesn't even seem cold. Why won't it move when we tell it to follow us?"
"Still aiming for its claws?"
"No, I gave up. Trying that would get me killed. There's a reason they're so valuable."
Enkrid chuckled softly at Krais' words.
His tone suggested he'd given up, but it was obvious he hadn't.
"Why don't you give it a name? We'll probably keep bringing it along."
Enkrid nodded slightly at Krais' suggestion.
He couldn't keep calling it "that thing" forever.
As they chatted, they found themselves deep in a shadowy alley, walking for quite some time.
They had taken so many turns that even Enkrid, with his sharp sense of direction, was beginning to feel disoriented.
"You didn't take a bribe from the Thieves' Guild to lead us into a trap, did you?"
Rem sneered mockingly.
Jaxen ignored him, staying silent.
"This guy always brushes me off," Rem grumbled, clearly irritated.
Still, Jaxen remained consistent in his silence, even ignoring Rem's complaints.
"Enough," Enkrid interjected, cutting off Rem before he could say more.
"What, playing favorites now? You know I get bored easily, right?"
When Rem turned his frustration toward Enkrid, it was a good sign—he was dropping the argument.
After that, the group fell quiet.
Ragna, seemingly bored, kicked at the ground as he walked.
"Winter sure is cold."
Audin, seeing a group of beggars sprawled out on the frosty ground, offered only a single remark.
The snow had stopped, but a thin layer remained atop the hardened dirt.
By noon tomorrow, the sunlight would melt it, leaving a slushy mess behind.
"Here we are."
After wandering through alleys for half an hour, they reached a weathered wooden door.
It was the kind of door you'd find anywhere in Gorder Guard.
Though the sun had set, the gentle glow of the moonlight lit their way clearly.
As Enkrid reached out to push the door open—
"You taking the left?" Rem asked, standing still, his back to the moonlight.
"I'll take the right. Gotta earn my keep somehow," Audin replied.
"Suit yourselves. As long as no one bothers me, I don't care," Ragna yawned.
"You lazy bastard. Squad Leader, we've got company."
At Rem's words, Enkrid turned to see them—scruffy figures draped in rags.
A closer look revealed they were the same beggars they'd passed on the way here.
For a brief moment, the image of a half-breed fairy flashed through his mind before vanishing.
"Twice the size," he thought, absentmindedly brushing his hand against the knife strapped behind his belt.
The blade wasn't ordinary.
It had been taken from the body of the half-breed fairy he'd killed.
He also had a sturdy dagger tucked into its sheath on his chest.
The fairy's blade wasn't something easily crafted.
When such a thing came into your possession, there was only one thing to do: take it.
"You must not have learned as a kid—never wander into places like this after sunset."
One of the beggars spoke, revealing yellow-stained teeth that appeared nearly black in the dim light.
The stench from a few paces away was enough to make their presence unbearable.
"Shut it," Rem replied, moving forward.
His steps weren't hurried, but he closed the distance with steady strides.
The beggar in the lead pulled a small pocketknife from his sleeve.
The blade was barely the length of a handspan, and he made a stabbing motion with it.
"Die, you bastard."
Those were his final words.
Rem didn't stop.
As the knife came toward him, he grabbed the beggar's wrist with his left hand, pulling him inward. Then, with a sharp movement, he drove his right elbow into the man's skull.
Crack!
It was a decisive, brutal strike.
The beggar's neck twisted at an unnatural angle as his head snapped back.
Simultaneously, on the other side, Audin reached out with just his thumb, index, and middle fingers, grabbing another beggar by the jaw and twisting.
With a mere three fingers, Audin snapped the man's neck.
His monstrous strength turned the simple act into a devastating blow.
"You crazy bastards!"
"Shit!"
Two of the remaining three shouted, veins bulging in fury, while the last one tried to slip away.
Rem and Audin's fights were brief and efficient.
They closed the distance, disregarded the knives, and delivered single, crushing blows.
Rem struck one in the throat with the edge of his hand, then finished with a punch to the temple, knocking the man unconscious.
Audin kept it even simpler.
With a step forward, he twisted his hips and threw out a straight punch.
Thud, crack!
The sound of the punch echoed.
The force, starting from his toes, traveled through his body in a perfect motion.
The beggar's face caved in, his nose obliterated.
He dropped to his knees before collapsing sideways.
The one who tried to flee was stopped by Enkrid.
Thud, thunk!
"Guh!"
A dagger embedded itself in the back of the escaping beggar's neck, sending him sprawling forward.
Rem, who had just begun to give chase, paused, turning his head back.
Audin blinked a few times, while Ragna, who had seemed half-asleep, opened his eyes wide.
Jaxen's furrowed brows relaxed as he noticed the cold, heavy air around them.
"Wow," Krais muttered in awe.
Enkrid lowered his hand from its outstretched position and spoke.
"Why? Chasing him would've been a waste of time."
"When did our Squad Leader get so good at throwing knives?" Rem asked.
"Practice makes perfect," Enkrid replied.
"Fascinating," Rem murmured.
"This isn't the time to focus on my knife-throwing skills, is it?"
"Fair enough." Rem nodded in agreement.
Despite facing five armed beggars, none of them seemed surprised.
Even Krais remained unfazed.
"You're not shocked?" Enkrid asked.
He'd already deduced what was going on just by observing the beggars' movements and positions.
It wasn't something a seasoned mercenary would overlook.
Krais replied, "Shocked? Not really. What kind of beggar goes after armed soldiers? Their excuses were weak. This confirms it—this place is either the Thieves' Guild's base or they're hiding something."
Was this an obvious conclusion, or was Krais particularly sharp?
Likely the former.
Still, Krais was bold.
While he might dart around the battlefield to avoid direct danger, he had seen his share of combat up close.
This situation was nothing new to him.
"They're surprisingly organized for a gang of criminals."
"What do you mean?"
"The way they moved—it was like they were taking shifts. Pretty meticulous for a small-time crew. This 'Gilpin' guy must be quite capable."
Krais had a knack for seeing the bigger picture based on small details.
"Good point."
While they exchanged a few words, Jaxen stepped back from the door.
His hand rested on his sword hilt as though preparing to cut through it.
Audin intervened.
"Let me knock."
This was the base of a criminal gang.
Knocking wouldn't make them open the door.
Bang!
But Audin's "knock" was different.
"Ha! Well done, our holy friend," Rem said with a chuckle, clearly impressed.
Even Enkrid silently admired it.
Audin twisted his body, pivoted on his left foot, and struck the door with the palm of his hand.
It wasn't just a strike—it was a precise, cutting blow.
The door, along with its hinges, bent inward and collapsed.
In other words, he'd knocked it down.
It was an exceptionally "cheerful" knock.