Capítulo 175: Chapter 327 - Return of the Hero
A roar of cheers erupted behind Rem, Teresa, and Audin.
It was only natural. The news from the Green Pearl outpost had reached the Border Guard as swiftly as the wind.
The return of the hero who had defeated the Black Blade, the cultists, and even Aspen.
If there weren't any cheers, that would have been the real anomaly.
Enkrid noticed petals falling above his head. Not many, just a few scattered, dried flower petals.
Looking up, he saw those scattering them—several children and a few women.
Among them, one child and one woman's faces stood out as familiar.
The child's bright eyes were locked onto him.
The one who dreamed of being an herbalist, Enkrid recalled.
It was winter, so the child must have sought out flowers that bloomed even in this harsh season. Then, they would have plucked, dried, and carefully prepared them just for this moment.
How much effort must have gone into this?
White and pink dried petals gently fell onto Enkrid's head.
Though sparse, the heartfelt sincerity behind them was unmistakable. Enkrid smiled, his gratitude clear in his expression.
The aspiring herbalist child stared at his smiling face. Seeing their hero smile, they felt an unparalleled happiness. Even if their fingers had blistered and cracked while gathering winter petals, the experience would remain a joyful memory.
Enkrid walked past the child, heading inward.
As he moved, Rem fell into step on his right.
"Had fun out there?" Rem asked.
"More or less."
While word of the events had reached them, it was unlikely they knew every detail.
"Brother, you look like your body's been through hell," Audin commented from behind.
Through hell? Enkrid thought, suppressing a laugh. He had been closer to half-dead—bolts in his back, bleeding profusely, and barely clinging on.
Even after some rest and recovery at the Green Pearl outpost, he had still been far from fully healed. And then a knight had come along and landed a decisive blow for good measure.
"Just a bit banged up," Enkrid replied, mixing in a half-joke.
"My lord, my father—why have you given him such a fragile body?"
Audin's prayer-like lament was clearly directed at Enkrid's physique.
Objectively speaking, Enkrid's body was exceptionally well-built, resembling that of a beastkin. His naturally muscular frame and defined abs were evidence enough.
But in Audin's eyes, it was lacking—though this was unsurprising coming from someone whose body seemed a fusion of beastkin and giants.
"There's still room for improvement," Audin muttered as Enkrid left him behind.
Soon, Ragna joined Enkrid's left. His right arm was still tightly bandaged, but his thigh injury had healed enough for him to walk without issue.
While Ragna, too, bore injuries, he seemed mostly recovered aside from his arm.
Behind Rem, Dunbakel followed, with Teresa limping slightly alongside Audin. Together, they formed a small procession, drawing even louder cheers.
"Immortal Rem!"
The cry came not just from civilians but also from soldiers. The battle against the Black Blade and the cultists was still vivid in their minds, making the nickname "Immortal Rem" feel natural.
Cheers for Audin and Teresa also blended into the noise.
Their shared nickname, The Giant Siblings, was amusing but went unacknowledged.
Dunbakel, on the other hand, grumbled about not having her own nickname.
As they continued, a woman's voice rang out among the cheers.
"Take me!"
"What am I supposed to take?!" Rem shot back.
"Not you!"
"Even if you offered, I wouldn't!"
The playful banter amidst the cheers revealed the boldness of the woman shouting.
Enkrid recognized her—a merchant he'd seen in the market, raising two children on her own.
Her grit and resilience were admirable, worthy of respect.
The cheers grew louder, and Enkrid's name echoed from all sides.
Half of this celebratory reception was orchestrated by the lord of the fortress, but the other half came from the citizens' genuine enthusiasm.
In truth, even the lord's participation stemmed from heartfelt sincerity.
Watching Enkrid return to the Border Guard, a thought crossed their minds.
What if Aspen had won instead?
The horrifying aftermath of such a loss was unthinkable.
What would the king have done to the fortress lord, beaten bloody and disgraced from the start?
Or what measures would have been taken?
It would've been a miracle if they hadn't lost their head over the defeat.
"Whooaaa!"
Even the lord himself roared like a beast in celebration.
"So handsome!"
"The Unyielding Blade!"
"The Guardian's Sword!"
Enkrid noted that no matter the nicknames people bestowed upon him, their voices were always faster than their thoughts.
The news of their return had traveled faster than the carriage.
Of course, this was partly due to the advance unit that had been sent ahead to Border Guard, spreading word of the events.
While Enkrid and his group arrived in their battered state, the rest of the unit, largely unscathed, had already returned, making it inevitable that tales would spread quickly.
As they walked through the cheers, Enkrid ruffled the hair of the child who dreamed of becoming an herbalist, nodded lightly to a middle-aged woman selling spiced jerky, and even quipped back at the innkeeper Vanessa, who yelled, "Marry me!" with a curt, "Are you crazy?"
Throughout the carriage ride, Enkrid had been too preoccupied with reflecting on the lessons learned and the scars earned from the recent "days" to anticipate such a reception. That only made the welcome feel even more heartfelt.
When he first dreamed of becoming a knight, it would have been a lie to say he had never envisioned such moments.
Here was a child he had protected.
Here was the child's mother.
There was someone who had thanked him for saving their son.
A craftsman had gifted him boots in gratitude.
All these people, living their lives within the walls of the city, sustained by the protection of his sword.
If he claimed not to feel satisfaction from that, it would be a lie.
Yet, the world remained unforgiving.
The Demon Realm would endlessly spawn monsters, and those monsters would sow more chaos. Wars sparked by competing interests among the various races would continue to demand lives.
To be a knight who ends wars.
To stand at the world's end as the knight of the apocalypse.
Enkrid contemplated these dreams of his as he stepped into the barracks.
Winter was in its mid-point; there was still time before spring would arrive.
Though others might see the passing days as brief, Enkrid's overlapping "three todays" from the battlefield made this return feel like a long journey indeed.
"Have you finally gotten rid of that stray cat?"
As Enkrid rested in the barracks, Rem approached with this abrupt remark.
Before Enkrid could answer, Rem nodded to himself.
"Well done. Good job."
Rem was referring to Jaxen, but one could tell that if Enkrid truly confirmed he'd abandoned him, Rem might even celebrate.
Not that he seemed convinced by any answer, making it clear the question was more out of idle curiosity.
"Do I have the power to throw him away or keep him?"
"Then if you haven't, where's that prickly stray cat gone off to?"
The leopard, Esther, was nowhere to be seen. Likely off somewhere busy, having disappeared almost immediately after arriving.
"Maybe dead?"
Enkrid tossed the question casually, curious to see Rem's reaction. Why was death not considered an option?
After all, Enkrid himself had already "died" countless times in his battles with Aspen.
Rem snorted dismissively.
"That punk's not the type to die easily."
Though indirectly phrased, it was clear he respected Jaxen's capabilities.
"Hmm."
That same logic applied to himself, didn't it?
Was it possible that others believed Enkrid wouldn't die so easily either?
As if reading his thoughts, Rem continued.
"Captain, you've got a thing going with Lady Luck, don't you? That's why I figured you'd survive."
Though baseless, his words had a certain truth to them from another's perspective.
After all, how had he survived everything so far?
If asked to explain, even Enkrid would struggle to provide a proper answer.
"Just lucky," he might have said in the past. But such a flippant response wouldn't suffice now.
Rem quickly lost interest in discussing Jaxen and instead poked at Enkrid's side, urging him to share what had happened.
So, Enkrid recounted the events.
Audin interjected occasionally with his own commentary.
"A dislocation? That's due to insufficient muscles, brother."
"Strengthen your back muscles to the point where bolts can't pierce them, brother."
Muscles that could deflect arrows? What on earth was he talking about?
Unless someone had the hardened skin of a giant, wasn't that impossible?
But it wasn't just Rem and Audin who were listening.
Everyone had their ears turned toward the story.
Even Ragna was paying close attention.
Among them, the most focused was Krais.
It was natural for Krais.
He had wanted to ask so many things back at the Green Pearl base but hadn't found the chance.
That blasted Garrett had monopolized the captain's attention.
Even on the way back in the carriage, when Krais intended to ask, Enkrid had kept his eyes closed, appearing deep in thought, making it impossible to disturb him.
So now was the moment.
"How did he get out of that situation?"
Krais had inspected the battlefield Enkrid had escaped from, scoured it, and analyzed it thoroughly.
The retreating Aspen commander had laid a trap that seemed inescapable, turning the terrain itself into a net.
It was a hunting ground where no one could escape.
Not unless they were a knight.
But Enkrid wasn't a knight.
Though he had once crossed swords with a knight, who had walked away with a satisfied expression, that encounter still left Krais uneasy.
What if that knight, half-crazed, decided to return?
Krais's thoughts trailed off into doubt.
The unease clawed at his heart, constricting it.
How many knights does Aspen have to send one here? Are there even three in total? And yet, one of them supposedly came to cut down the captain? It was an unbelievable tale.
That's why Krais needed to ask—how did he escape?
He wasn't a knight. Nor had he outwitted his opponent's strategy. He had fallen into their preparation, trapped in their snare. Was it even conceivable to escape on luck alone?
"Unless Lady Luck herself grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out."
It was absurd.
Having been pragmatic and cold-headed since childhood, Krais faced reality squarely: luck wasn't enough. His expression grew serious as he studied Enkrid.
How hard could it be to explain?
Since there was no need for secrecy, Enkrid replied honestly:
"Instinct."
A silence followed.
Winter winds whistled past the barracks outside.
Rem was the first to react, bursting into laughter.
"Pfft, hahaha! I knew it!"
The others soon followed.
"...Instinct?" Krais tilted his head in disbelief. Audin, meanwhile, began to pray.
"Father above, have You taken him under Your wing?"
Dunbakel twitched her nose and asked cautiously, "And how do you train for that kind of instinct?"
Of course, no one had an answer.
Theresa simply stared at Enkrid. He had never lied to her since they first met, so she believed him now, too.
It was astonishing. Could a man escape such a battlefield purely on instinct?
Even with her injured body, Theresa's battle hunger flared. She wanted to clash swords with him, to face him with her shield raised.
Her aura became palpable.
"Sister," Audin interjected gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. His touch carried a clear warning: back down, or suffer the consequences.
Theresa, knowing her current state wouldn't allow for the fight she craved and unwilling to provoke Audin, suppressed her desires.
She wasn't a beast, merely a half-giant.
"Yes, I understand. This wandering Theresa knows when to hold back," she muttered, referring to herself objectively.
Meanwhile, Ragna, true to form, was already dozing off in a corner. Though he had seemed interested earlier, he had reverted to his usual indifferent self. Despite the cheers and even his name being mentioned, Ragna remained unchanged, as if the world couldn't faze him.
Krais, on the other hand, was deep in thought. Finally, he broke his silence.
"Explain in more detail."
This couldn't simply end with a single word—instinct.
Enkrid willingly elaborated, and Krais absorbed his explanation.
"Danger-sensing intuition? The ability to perceive the flow of a battlefield?" he murmured. "Is that even possible?"
Enkrid gave a faint nod. Yes, it's possible.
But it hadn't come easily. To hone that sense, he had needed to die—or come close to it—countless times.
He wasn't bitter, though. What he had gained was worth the price.
During his semi-conscious journey back, he had spent much of his time reflecting on what he had learned and achieved.
"Impressive," Krais said, though there was no personal stake in it. His eyes glimmered with fascination, a rare sight from him.
It was curious. There was no gold at stake, yet he seemed genuinely interested.
In the days following Enkrid's return, time seemed to fly by.
There had been talk of hosting a banquet, but the aftermath of the battle left no room for such festivities. The dead soldiers' bodies and the carcasses of the beasts had to be dealt with first.
The hides of wolf-like beasts, when skinned carefully, could fetch a high price in Krona. Luckily, a tanning guild was already established within the Border Guard. Even so, it was a labor-intensive process.
Compensation had to be distributed to the families of fallen soldiers, and the bodies needed proper burials or cremations. For a while, fires burned constantly on the outskirts of the Border Guard's grounds.
Graham, the commander, genuinely wanted to hold a celebration, but there was no time. Letters poured in relentlessly, and unexpected visitors arrived as well.
Two particularly notable visitors sought Enkrid.
The issue?
"He can't come right now," the aide reported.
Graham broke into a cold sweat.
"Why?"
"His subordinates won't let him. They've blocked anyone from disturbing him."
Damn it.
Graham resolved to stall for as long as he could.
If those madmen started acting up, there would be no end to the chaos. Better to deal with it himself than let the situation escalate.
Being a lord wasn't an easy job.
Sigh.
For a brief moment, Graham found himself longing for his days as a heavy-armored battalion leader. He let out a deep sigh.
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