Chapter 135: Chapter 289 - Duty and Responsibility (1)
For Krais, this was all too obvious.
Why would anyone risk their life in a hopeless battle?
Why fight here, prepared to face death?
'If only reinforcements would show up, maybe things would be different.'
But when you weigh the circumstances, the possibility seems slim. Slim, but not impossible.
To even catch a glimpse of those reinforcements, one would have to give up certain things.
The Green Pearl, the Border Guard Fortress...
There were the watchtowers they had built and the newly dug moats, but if they were to be surrounded from both sides, all of those preparations would be useless.
'What we have right now is meaningless.'
It was wise to consider the next step. Holding on alone wasn't always the best option.
Having come to this conclusion through his reasoning, Krais spoke.
"Let's run."
Enkrid stared at the man with the big eyes and thought to himself.
'This time, his eyes seem to be fully functional.'
He didn't appear to be scared or consumed by anxiety.
So, is he asking about running because he's still thinking clearly and wondering what would happen if they flee?
Enkrid widened his view and looked around.
All eyes, not just Krais's, were fixed on him.
No matter what choice he made here, they would follow his lead.
It seemed like that was the case.
Even the one-eyed man lingering outside the tent would probably follow him once he returned.
And Esther, of course.
Even Rem, who had been missing and lying down somewhere, would follow him if he wasn't there. He was sure of it.
Ragna, even if he got lost partway, would find his way back.
Why? What was it about him that made them follow?
What had they seen in him?
He couldn't force his will on them.
He couldn't impose what he had decided to protect on them.
Enkrid couldn't do that.
"You can go."
That was what he said. Krais looked pleased but waited for the next words.
"And you?"
Jaxen, who was quick to be blunt, asked right away.
That guy always seemed to speak in a more casual tone once the opportunity arose.
"I'm not going."
"Why not? You've done more than enough."
Krais also dropped his formal tone. Enkrid didn't press him about it.
Instead, he spoke his mind.
"If I sell my sword for gold, then I'm just a mercenary."
It might have sounded like nonsense, but everyone was listening in silence. The way they all waited for the next words made Enkrid realize that, just as he had learned from them, they too had learned something from him.
They were all paying attention.
Even if ears were closed, it wouldn't mean they couldn't speak, but if they listened, it was certainly better.
"And I'm going to be a knight."
Enkrid swallowed. His usual thoughts, the ideas he had formed on certain days, had been refined into a firm pillar.
Enkrid shifted into a more comfortable position as pain shot through his shin and right arm.
It wasn't painful, just bearable. At least it was much better than when he was about to die.
Constant pain reminded him that he was alive, that he hadn't spent the day in vain.
"I hear that a lot."
Jaxen commented, almost like an interjection.
Enkrid pulled his legs up and adjusted his posture to a more comfortable position.
"If you don't plan to sell your sword for gold, then you must sell it for duty and responsibility. And that is my duty and responsibility now."
What is a knight?
A knight is someone who protects.
What should they protect?
The knights of legend and myth, those who shone like the sun in the past, said:
Protect the weak.
Defend justice.
Keep your vows.
Which of these is most important? Enkrid reached a conclusion by himself.
A knight is...
Is it noble to sacrifice your life for a lady?
If he swore to do so, then yes.
If that is his knightly vow, then it should be accepted.
However, he would not sell his sword for just gold.
He would not become a murderer who enjoys killing people.
An intangible value. To protect what you believe in.
Those who swear and keep their vows for that.
To an ordinary person, they would seem like fools.
That is Enkrid's dream.
That is the path he has walked until now.
He didn't give up even after dying countless times, and he never became complacent, which was the reason he was here today.
If Enkrid were to run away now, how many people inside Border Guard would die?
Children, women, the elderly, young men—perhaps there would be a massacre with a death toll in the hundreds.
Maybe fewer would die.
Or perhaps even more might perish.
One of the enemies was a cultist. A mad group was included.
Of course, even considering all of that, retreating right now could be seen as more efficient.
It might be better to give up what needed to be given up and reclaim what could be reclaimed.
But he wouldn't do that.
Enkrid's emotions did not waver.
It wasn't a situation where he could hesitate.
He had made his decision, and he would follow through with it.
Behind him was Border Guard, and Enkrid had sworn to protect them.
Though he wasn't a knight, from that day in the past when he had sworn to live in such a way, he had kept his vow.
That was how Enkrid had lived.
Krais's face turned pale again. His eyes drooped, clearly displeased.
"You're foolish."
"I admit it."
Enkrid responded to Krais's words, recalling a certain day from the past.
The rain poured heavily.
"It's really pouring like crazy."
The mercenary captain didn't mind the rain too much, but as they passed through the sticky swamps for a mission, his irritation grew.
At least they weren't going through the swamp's heart, but rather a small forest beside it. However, that didn't make it pleasant.
The swamp bordered small forest often gifted long worms between armor plates, and mosquitoes, bold enough, bit the backs of mercenaries' hands.
"Damn it!"
Thwack!
One mercenary slapped his hand, irritated.
With the rain pouring down, where were all these mosquitoes coming from?
"Are we there yet?"
The mercenary, his eyes fierce, shouted.
The guide pushed his damp, long black hair aside and replied.
"Almost there."
"I thought you said that earlier."
The captain, a large, intimidating figure, came closer. His appearance alone was enough to impose a sense of authority. Despite looking directly at him, the guide's blue eyes remained calm.
"The rain slowed us down."
"Right, let's go, go."
Thwack.
The captain lightly slapped the guide's back of the head and shook his head.
Then, he turned to calm his men.
"Goddamn idiots. Shut your mouths before I throw you into the swamps."
The captain spoke roughly as he sliced through a thick vine with a large sword.
With a sharp thwack, the vine was severed and the path cleared.
Though the captain's words were rough, they quelled the discontent. The guide, Enkrid, thought to himself that this mercenary group was actually pretty decent.
At least the captain, despite his appearance, took care of his subordinates, and the mercenaries were the type to protect what mattered.
They weren't the kind of people who would stab their comrades, friends, or clients in the back during a mission.
If the guide didn't have that kind of sense, he would have been nothing more than food for the bugs or nutrients for the trees, dying on the roadside.
If you didn't want to die on the roadside, you had to pick your people carefully.
It seemed like he had picked well this time.
"But why are we using that guy instead of a proper pathfinder?"
Did he ask because he knew they could hear him, or was he just saying it on purpose?
One of the mercenaries, walking behind the captain, asked.
The heavy rain was coming down, but their conversation could still be clearly heard. The trees above shielded them somewhat from the rain.
"Cheap."
"Pardon?"
"Cheap, that guy. His pathfinding skills aren't great, but on the other hand, he can fight."
It was a case of using him as both a combatant and a pathfinder.
So, while they were only paying for a guide, they were getting an additional fighter for the same price. The mercenary captain explained that Enkrid's rate was low.
Of course, one dumb mercenary muttered, "It's not that cheap."
He boasted that he knew other guides who were cheaper.
"Are any of them good at finding the way?"
One of his comrades mocked from the back.
"Want me to kill you? Stop talking nonsense."
From there, the usual exchange of meaningless jokes continued.
Kill him, save him—those kinds of jokes.
The rough conversations of mercenaries were a common sight.
The mission was to stay in a small village nestled in a forest and take care of some tasks.
There were few monsters or beasts around, making it a relatively safe village.
Although surrounded by swamps, it was thought that there might be a Lizard Colony here, but about a dozen years ago, a wandering swordsman had come and slaughtered all of them.
Since then, whenever the lizard beasts began to gather, the village hired mercenaries.
For just a few gold coins a year, they were free from threats.
Splash. The rain poured. The blurred view. The sticky wet clothes and armor—at this point, the gambeson he wore was practically disposable.
It was a lucky day to wear cheap gear.
However, when the rain eased up a bit, the bugs started swarming, and it got hotter.
Why did the trees here feel like totems, maintaining a humid air instead of refreshing air?
It was the usual kind of mission. Lizard extermination and repairs around the village.
Enkrid, who had been surviving in this nearby village for over six months, had been working as a guide to make a living.
"We've arrived."
It was a village he had guided them to, albeit clumsily, along a familiar path.
"Welcome."
The middle-aged village chief greeted the mercenary group, and after dealing with the lizards tangled in the swamp's scent, he hung strips of bark around the swamp trees.
They had also planted stakes in the ground, though it didn't seem like it would be very effective.
"It's wisdom passed down from the past," the chief said, believing it firmly.
There were many tasks that required mercenaries' help in the village.
If any lizards slipped through, another sword would be needed, and there were almost no one besides the mercenaries to step up.
Some villagers could fight, but most seemed distant from combat.
Following the guide, Enkrid had once again found himself swinging his sword in a village corner.
"Hey, mister."
A little child approached. She had gentle eyes and pale skin, no older than twelve.
Enkrid, having once been taken down by someone of her age, didn't underestimate her, but she didn't seem like she could wield a sword.
"Why are you working so hard?"
It was the usual chatter. A little child coming over and asking a familiar, silly question. That's how Enkrid became friends with one of the village children.
"I'm leaving the village in three years."
To say that dying outside was your dream—it was bold for such a young one.
What could someone her age want to do alone?
"No! It's not like that! Did you see the herbs that drive away the lizards? Do you think they only grow here? The herbs from this swamp are different."
Enkrid had heard that the village's main source of income was herbs.
"So your dream is to be a guest house owner?"
"Ugh! Really!"
So, what did she plan to do?
"I'm going to find amazing herbs! And I won't go alone. I'll join a mercenary group when the time comes and travel with them!"
She dreamed of finding rare herbs and selling them.
Enkrid didn't mock other people's dreams. He just felt a bit worried.
"So, your dream is to die while looking for herbs?"
"Ah, really!"
It wasn't that their relationship was particularly deep. Just a friendly connection, a way to pass the time.
A way to rest his weary body from training, that's how he spent his time.
Perhaps the little girl thought similarly.
Among the mercenaries, others were fierce-looking, but Enkrid seemed to be the only one who would quietly practice his sword in the corner.
She probably didn't mind talking to someone like him. It was a simple enough friendship.
The mercenary group's mission lasted over a month, and during that time, they had these trivial conversations.
"Is being a guide your dream?"
"No, a knight."
"A knight? The nightmare of the battlefield?"
"Yeah."
"...I think it would be nice to gather herbs together. You can come with us when you're older!"
"Let's not talk about that."
"No, I respect you, really. I mean it."
"Look me in the eye when you speak."
Why was she looking at the distant mountains while speaking?
"What? What did you say?"
"Stop pretending you didn't hear me."
Such a ridiculous little girl.
And then the crisis came, as always, without warning.
"Hey, what will be left if we fight here? I'll say it bluntly—if you've taken what you came for, leave. This isn't even your mission."
Enkrid thought that the mercenary captain was a decent person.
For a mercenary captain, he was quite genuine.
Then came fifty bandits, suddenly appearing.
They had heard rumors about some hidden treasure in the swamp village.
The mercenary captain had to make a choice.
The villagers would be left alone to face despair.
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