Chapter 84 - A World of Life and Death
Deciding to save someone revealed a gap.
'Ignite.'
It was an explosion.
He relived the moment repeatedly in his mind.
It had happened so suddenly, without warning.
Even during the previous attempt by the mixed-blood fairy assassin, there had been at least some last words exchanged before death.
This time, there was nothing like that.
Only the searing pain of burning heat, the agony of a fiery death, remained.
Being stabbed by a sword or spear often felt like being impaled by a heated skewer.
This time, however, it was truly death by fire.
'A trap? Judging by the explosion, it must have been a magical one.'
"What's got you so deep in thought?"
"Just thinking about taking on a task."
***
After finishing his morning meal and responding to Rem's question, he headed back to pick up another job.
"Please, I'm begging you—take care of this for me."
The squad leader, known for his stitching duties, didn't hesitate to plead for help.
Did he even know about the state of that place?
From his sunken eyes and haggard expression, it didn't seem like he was trying to pull a fast one.
He merely looked like a soldier worn down by exhaustion.
"Things seem rough lately?"
"The troublemakers at night have decreased, but we've had an uptick in external threats like monsters and beasts, so more soldiers are being diverted to handle those."
The desperation in his voice was genuine.
Honestly, even if he was lying, Enkrid could simply refuse the request.
And even if he accepted, as long as he didn't step inside the cobbler's shop, he wouldn't face the same dangers.
'This seems like a wall I can easily avoid.'
Thinking so, Enkrid asked, "What if I don't go?"
"Then we shelve it."
Some tasks were essential for the soldiers to handle, while others could be delayed or ignored.
This one fell into the latter category.
"Yeah, it's not absolutely necessary. But the cobbler isn't the type to talk nonsense. I'd go myself, but the platoon leader keeps watching me, and I can't get away."
He seemed sincere.
When Enkrid didn't respond right away, the stitching squad leader pressed on.
"You remember, right? That time with the bundle of leather? Remember?"
"I remember."
He had wondered if the man had gone back to drowning in drink after returning to the city, but here he was, diligently working instead.
"I'm worried. Just go take a look. He's someone I've known since I was a kid."
"Fine."
He decided to at least check it out.
He'd figure out what was going on and decide from there.
If it were a standard trap, it would have been poison darts or something of the sort.
Yet there had been no telltale sound or signs of a trap activating.
Which meant magic.
'If it's magic...'
There wasn't much he could do about it.
Thinking about it wouldn't solve anything, though.
By the time he reached the cobbler's shop, later than usual, he knocked on the door.
No answer.
"This is the Border Guard Standby Force. Open up."
After knocking harder and calling out, the door finally opened.
Instead of the cobbler, a young woman with long braided brown hair and a face full of freckles stood in the doorway.
"The Standby Force?"
Her wide, deer-like eyes blinked at him.
"For a request," he said, glancing inside.
The cobbler was nowhere to be seen, only a gaping hole in the floor.
"My father said there was something under the shop and went down there."
Damn it.
"Stay here," Enkrid muttered, brushing past her and stepping inside.
He saw dirt falling from the edges of the hole.
'Impatient bastard.'
The cobbler had apparently grown tired of waiting for help and decided to go in himself.
"You shouldn't go in there. He said it's dangerous," the freckled girl said, her face drawn with worry.
She bit her lip and added, "I'll go in and get him."
"I'll handle it. You stay here."
"No, I'm going too."
It was clear she wouldn't back down.
Rather than waste time arguing, Enkrid dove into the hole.
Gripping the edge, he slid down the slope feet-first.
Every movement was fluid and controlled, thanks to the mastery he had gained through the isolation technique.
But this wasn't the time to dwell on such thoughts.
As soon as he reached the bottom, his trained ears caught the sound of footsteps.
Ahead, he saw the cobbler hesitantly stepping onto a path.
Behind him, the cobbler's daughter rushed past Enkrid.
"Father!"
Enkrid grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back and shouting, "Stop!"
The cobbler turned around, tension and confusion etched on his face.
Before anyone could react further, the cobbler took another step forward.
With a deafening boom, the air compressed and slammed into Enkrid.
It all happened in an instant.
Fire, heat, and explosions.
Fwoosh.
"Agh!"
The cobbler's final cry was cut off as the flames consumed him, along with his daughter.
Boom!
As Enkrid's body burned in the aftermath, he thought about how the explosion would ripple upward.
It was a hollow death.
As the pain faded and darkness engulfed him, he awoke once more to greet the morning.
"Had a bad dream or something?"
Rem's question came from beside him.
There was no way he could call it a good dream.
In the dream, the ferryman on the black river had smiled faintly at him.
When he had relived days of the past, at least he had started and ended them by his own hand.
This time, it felt unjust.
It was an unavoidable force, one beyond his control.
'If left alone, they'll die.'
The father first, then the daughter.
Who knew how far the consequences would reach?
Not that it mattered.
The moment they died, the task was a failure.
'I could just ignore it.'
If Enkrid turned away, the two would surely die.
And so what?
It was a world of death and killing.
It was a time of chaos.
Enkrid, a soldier by trade, had taken countless lives on the battlefield.
However, he thought, "Those people didn't step onto the battlefield to kill or be killed."
They were just trying to make a living, running their little shop.
Enkrid understood that the kind of knight he dreamt of being wasn't the chivalrous hero sung about by bards.
He had to face reality, especially in a world that had changed so much.
Even so, "I don't want to lose."
He could have turned a blind eye and walked away.
After all, what was the big deal?
Just a craftsman and his daughter dying, nothing more.
But it was happening right in front of him.
And only Enkrid knew about it.
If this were a war—something beyond his power to stop—then maybe he could have let it go.
But here, "I can stop it."
If it was something he could prevent, then he couldn't just stand by.
He wouldn't call it chivalry.
He'd call it stubbornness.
But that didn't diminish his idea of what being a knight meant.
Even if no one noticed, if there was something worth protecting, a knight should protect it.
Because those who dream cannot betray their dreams, Enkrid decided to visit the craftsman and his daughter.
"Damn it," Enkrid muttered irritably as he started his day.
He was annoyed with himself, with the slow steps that had allowed the craftsman and his daughter to die the day before.
"You must've had a really bad dream," Rem remarked from behind him.
Starting his day anew, Enkrid ate and mulled over his plan as he went to take on a new assignment.
"Should I check each passage one by one?"
There couldn't be a worse way.
He had no idea how many traps the tunnels might contain.
But he couldn't think of another solution.
It wasn't like he could ask his squadmates for help.
What would they think if I told them a shoemaker said there's an undead creature beneath his shop and asked them to come along?
At best, they'd mock him. At worst, no one would come. He could force someone to join him, but he didn't want to.
Would he lean on his squadmates every time something happened? Or would he face things alone?
Is my dream of being a knight one where I stand behind others, running my mouth?
Or is it one where I take the lead, wielding my sword?
This time, it might not even involve swords.
But still.
"I'll do it alone. I'll protect them."
This wasn't something he could rely on his squadmates for.
***
"The shoemaker's been on my mind. You know me," he said.
"I know. How was the snake wine?"
"Delicious."
After receiving another task from the sewing squad leader, he practically ran to the shoemaker's shop.
"Where are you rushing off to?" Jaxen asked as Enkrid headed out.
"To save a damned commoner at a shoemaker's shop."
"Shoes and boots tormenting the common folk?"
No, it's the underground passage, Enkrid thought but didn't say.
He headed straight for the shop.
Before he reached the door, he heard the sound of a hammer striking the ground—bang, bang.
When he knocked firmly on the door to announce his arrival, the craftsman, sweaty from work, appeared.
"Come see! There's a hole here!"
"There is. Let me take a look."
Enkrid helped open the hole, hammering and using an iron rod as a lever to lift the planks.
"Wait here while I go down."
"If a monster appears…"
"I'll take care of it."
Before descending, Enkrid lit a torch.
Flare.
Just seeing the flames made him shudder.
Once burned alive, twice was more than enough.
As soon as he stepped down, an eerie feeling washed over him—a primal instinctive aversion born of the fear of death.
Enkrid didn't want to enter the tunnel.
But he didn't turn back.
He pushed through and stepped forward.
If he turned away just because he didn't want to, he'd live a life of running.
He'd run from death before and regretted it every time.
He didn't want to feel that regret again.
So, Enkrid pressed forward.
The first passage felt foul the more he looked at it.
Six tunnels branched off, leaving five more to check.
"Where is it?"
Surely they wouldn't trap all the tunnels while leaving one clear.
The second one might be safe.
Carefully holding the torch, Enkrid examined the floor, walls, and ceiling.
Nothing obvious stood out.
Just identical paths, all dark with no end in sight.
Whoever built this crazy space beneath the city…
It might even connect to the sewers.
Thud.
Dust fell from the ceiling above.
The passage didn't seem hastily constructed, but would it collapse and bury him alive?
For now, he had to focus on the task at hand.
He was curious about the person who built this.
"Let's go."
He moved to the second tunnel.
The first had erupted in flames.
Would this one be different?
Standing before the second tunnel, that foul feeling rose again, but he ignored it and stepped forward.
His first cautious step yielded no explosion, no fire, nothing.
He inspected the surroundings carefully, torchlight revealing nothing unusual.
"Looking won't help me figure it out."
He lacked the expertise to identify traps.
He'd only picked up dungeon exploring through mercenary work, but proper trap detection required training.
"There's no solution to this."
He had no choice but to move forward.
The ominous feeling weighed on him like a predator waiting to devour him.
As he steeled himself to press on, a voice startled him.
"What are you doing?"
The craftsman had followed him down.
That one question dulled the sharp edge of fear and made the next step feel less daunting.
Moments earlier, he'd felt so much, but now it was fading.
"Don't come any closer," he warned.
Burning alive with the craftsman once had been enough.
As he took another step, that unsettling feeling returned—something indescribable, like he'd made a mistake.
"I shouldn't have taken that step."
And he was right.
Whoosh.
Like the first tunnel, it exploded in flames, consuming everything.
He didn't know what lay at the end of these passages, but the traps were clear.
Bang.
The noise and fire consumed him.
Death was inevitable.
"Ah."
As he died, Enkrid let out a brief sigh. Even amidst the pain, his instincts as a beast gave him clarity to assess his situation.
After the third "today" ended, Enkrid found himself strangely enlightened as he began his fourth.