Chapter 354 - Kryanaht Angius Naurilius
"Stop."
As they reached the city walls, the guards blocked their way with pikes.
Enkrid instinctively assessed the guards' positions, stances, and the direction of their feet.
There were two in front, and others standing behind.
The two in the front were nothing special. They were not even worth discussing in terms of skill.
'New recruits.'
Enkrid and his madmen unit referred to untrained soldiers as "new recruits" based on the standards of the Border Guard's regular troops.
His gaze met that of a more senior soldier standing behind the two.
The senior soldier glared at him, as if saying, "Where do you think you're looking?"
'Amateur.'
If it came to a fight, they couldn't even block a strike.
There were over twenty guards at the gate.
Excluding the ones checking carts or wagons from one side, only four had come to stand in front.
The two blocking the path, the senior behind them, and the last one—a middle-aged man standing at the very back—wearing a feathered cap, not a helmet.
He wore a thin, long sword at his waist, and his posture was distinct.
Could he be Bell?
Enkrid was weighing his skills when—
"You've been staring too obviously," Rem warned the guards.
Before Enkrid could respond, the man with the feathered cap spoke.
"Look at you, you caught on, huh?"
He tilted his head, his voice implying more than just words.
The man's intuition was keen, and his skill was likely the same.
Without hesitation, Enkrid nodded in acknowledgment.
"...You're actually admitting it?"
The man muttered, then raised his voice.
"How many are there?"
It was a question directed at his subordinates.
The leading soldier eyed Enkrid's group.
"Seven and a beast? What's up with that weird-eyed horse, hey, and is that a panther?"
The guards glanced over the group in disbelief, confused by the unusual gathering.
Most notably, Esther, a beast, was a potential issue. If she caused any trouble, it would certainly be a hassle.
The guard subtly lowered his pike, clearly wary of the panther.
Or perhaps, was he just scared?
Enkrid had no intention to explain.
Esther was a panther, but among the Border Guard, no one would make an issue of it.
Why? Because they thought she was a mage's companion.
People knew that mages were mysterious and unusual beings, and those who saw Esther merely as a leopard were perfectly fine with it.
To them, Esther was just an animal Enkrid kept.
No one in the Border Guard questioned Enkrid's choice of companions.
But this was the capital.
Getting inside was the problem.
Was it time to turn back?
His mission was to escort Krang into the capital.
Entry wasn't his responsibility.
"It's fine."
As Enkrid pondered, Krang patted him on the shoulder.
"If you keep overthinking, you'll make a problem out of something simple. A sage once told me that, and I forgot it until now."
"Hmm?"
Enkrid looked at Krang, surprised by the sudden remark.
Krang's eyes twinkled.
"You're going to be a knight, right?"
Seeing the seriousness in Krang's tone, Enkrid nodded.
"Of course."
"I'll ask again. Why are you standing by my side?"
Krang whispered again, and meanwhile, the guards' voices were becoming more hostile.
"You can't have a beast without a leash. And do you all even have entry permits?"
"You're making it obvious you're here to cause trouble. Are you mercenaries?"
The man with the feathered cap also chimed in, adding his own sarcastic comments.
"I don't know"
To Krang, Enkrid seemed like a straightforward person who moved forward without wandering. Such a person wouldn't usually make excuses or discuss values, but the fact that Enkrid had done so meant that something was bothering him. This was Krang's conclusion.
"Why make excuses?"
Enkrid was genuinely impressed.
This guy was sharp enough to pick up on such things—Krang had the perceptiveness to read between the lines.
Bringing up the word "excuse" felt like Krais had seen right through him.
Enkrid hadn't forgotten that he was part of the Border Guard. If he were the type of fool who acted without thinking, he wouldn't have survived this long.
He understood his position and the consequences of his actions.
What would happen if Count Molsan caused a scene right now?
A knight defends, but a king rules.
Enkrid had no burning loyalty to protect Naurilia.
He wasn't tied to this land by birthright; he was just born here.
But that didn't mean he didn't care for some things about the country.
Enkrid cared for the small town he was born in.
He couldn't ignore the people who raised him when he would have starved without them.
"If only there were no more war..."
The fruit seller, peeling away a rotten part of an apple and splitting it, muttered.
"Wouldn't it be better if everyone just paid attention to what's going on around them?"
The elderly servant, roasting potatoes over the fire, sighed.
"War's good for the young ones, I suppose. But not for the rest of us."
An old woman, who once barely survived by selling her body, lamented her life.
"If there had been no war, I'd have just quietly gotten married, had kids, and made stew."
The stew the old woman had made warmed Enkrid's stomach like never before.
"You're a genius."
There was also the mercenary who once called a young orphan a genius, urging them to survive.
A mercenary who lost his legs but loved the children he cared for, knowing how to feed a starving child rather than filling his own stomach.
Enkrid's childhood was filled with hardships, but he didn't truly hate it.
He didn't truly dislike it.
They were all people living in this country.
The royalty, the nobility, and their politics—Enkrid didn't understand them.
But…
"I think he'll do well."
If Krang became king, wouldn't something change?
It was an instinctive feeling, a prediction.
Enkrid wasn't a prophet who could see the future, so he could call it a gamble if he wanted.
"Choose me. Enkrid. Become my knight and stand by my side."
Krang spoke, and his words carried a weight that seemed almost like willpower.
It felt like a pressure that came from the intangible force of his intent, directed only at Enkrid.
Enkrid didn't nod. He wasn't the one to make the choice first.
"The answer isn't necessary."
Krang said, then looked up.
He felt calm in the face of the assassin's threat.
It was a realization that came with that calm.
'If your sword is at your waist, mine is in my mouth.'
It was in his head, and it flowed in his blood.
It was time to wield that blade.
"Matthew."
Krais called his guard's name, and the guard stepped forward.
The sentry glared.
"What are you?"
Matthew, following Krais's instructions, opened his mouth.
"The name of the one and only, supreme, and most exalted Queen of this land is hereby declared: the rightful heir to the royal lineage has arrived."
The words were complex. The guard blinked in confusion, but his superior, still sharp, quickly reacted.
"What did you just say?"
The subordinate's hand shot out to grasp the shoulder of the guard who seemed ready to resort to force, pulling him back.
"I said exactly that."
The voice of Matthew, the guard, was loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.
Though the area in front of the gates was bustling, Matthew's words clearly reached the ears of everyone present.
"What did he just say?"
"The royal heir?"
"Could he be the secret child of the queen?"
Anyone with a hint of intelligence understood the situation was quite tense internally in Naurilia.
The issue of succession was always a delicate matter. Though the queen wasn't old, she had no children. Her husband, too, couldn't bear any, which was common knowledge.
"Unbelievable."
Matthew's voice rang out for all to hear, directed especially at the guard in front of him.
"My master is none other than the royal heir of Naurilia, and his name is Kryanaht Angius Naurilius."
Royal names were long, often drawing from ancestral names to form their own. But in comparison, Krang's name was short.
That was because he had lived hidden as a second son.
It was only when he grew up that he learned his real name.
And so...
"Call me Krang."
With near ventriloquism, Krang spoke.
When Enkrid turned his eyes to him, Krang continued.
"That is my true name."
He had been called that since childhood. Therefore, it was only natural to claim it as his own.
Krang's words didn't seem like a lie.
'I was wrong.'
Enkrid had assumed it was a false name, but now it appeared that Krang had used the first letters of Kryanaht Angius Naurilius's name. Nevertheless, Krang was saying that it was indeed his original name, and thus the first name used.
"Bow your heads before royal blood!"
Matthew shouted.
"…This is the first I've heard of a prince, and surely proof must be provided."
From behind the senior guard, the person in charge stepped forward.
He was the captain of the south gate guards.
To Krang's response, he stepped forward.
"What proof do you require to prove myself?"
"Claiming royal blood is a serious offense," the captain warned.
"Then arrest me and take me away."
Krang spoke casually while pulling a pendant from within his chest. It was incomplete, a half-piece.
It was a pendant he had worn around his neck.
The royal seal was clearly etched into the pendant.
It was so ornate that it could not have been easily replicated by anyone.
Despite being only half the size of a palm, the pendant bore the royal insignia with the symbol of the three swords and the round head of the flame-maned sun.
It was the symbol of the royal family.
It was the half of it, with the sun's head on display.
"The other half is with my sister."
With that, the only person who could verify Krang's identity as royal was the queen herself.
However, should they let him in now?
The captain of the guard was in a difficult spot. But then, just as things seemed to stall, a voice intervened.
"I vouch for him."
A voice came from behind the captain. When had they arrived?
"I, Marcus Baisar, vouch for him in the name of the Baisar family. He is indeed the rightful heir of this kingdom, the royal blood."
The guard captain understood that the decision had been taken out of his hands.
"Let him in."
It was impossible to undo the decision now that it had been backed by the powerful Baisar family.
From here on out, it was the kingdom's political game, where the art of killing in the name of politics would take precedence.
The captain handled weapons, not words.
But still, he could not just let them go.
'Let's keep the group under watch.'
Of course, the captain couldn't carry out his plan.
"They are all my people. Will you detain them?" Krang, the blond man who had just revealed himself as royal, approached with a smile.
'This is troublesome.'
If he just let them go, the noble families might come after him later, pestering him endlessly.
If things went poorly, he could be accused of harboring traitors and be executed.
But stopping them now could lead to even worse consequences, as his own life would be at risk if Krang was truly royal.
Even the most foolish man would not dare impersonate royalty in the capital, especially in front of the captain of the guard. This was probably the truth.
So, he had no choice but to accept the situation.
As Krang continued to smile, he spoke words that pierced through the heart of the captain.
What noble or officer would speak such words?
This was the first time he had heard such commands.
"Say that I insisted. Say I pushed my way in. Blame everything on me."
Marcus nodded in agreement.
The captain, now forty years old, felt his heart race.
'What kind of man is this?'
Before he could say anything, Marcus approached and gently reassured him.
"I will ensure no harm comes your way."
The captain nodded, but his eyes never left Krang.
Krang seemed to be an exceptionally unique individual.
Enkrid and his group could only watch.
"Wow, the backing of royalty is impressive," Rem marveled.
As he said, no one stopped the group.
Though a wild beast with differently colored eyes might have been an issue, no one tried to stop the panther from entering the capital.
The group had no time to take in the sights of the capital.
Thanks to the guards' message, the royal guards arrived at the palace.
They were the royal elite known as the Royal Guard. Each of them wore full plate armor, carrying long spears, short swords at their hips, and kite shields slung across their backs.
Their golden-tinged helmets made them even more intimidating, as their lowered visors only left their eyes and mouth visible, enhancing their imposing presence.
The uniformity of their attire and their stern expressions conveyed their authority.
The Royal Guard surrounded the group.
"We will escort you to the palace."
One of the guards, standing in the front, spoke. His helmet was a dull grey, unlike the others' golden hue.
It was obvious that he hadn't had his helmet gilded, and simply looking at him would make one feel small, but there were no ordinary men here.
"Can you see them sweating? It must be hot in those suits," Rem commented.
Jaxen, as usual, remained silent but inwardly approved of the situation.
Dunbakel, with her eyes darting nervously, whispered.
"Are we really going to follow them?"
She sensed the danger of entering the palace.
"Do you want to turn back? You can go ahead."
Enkrid showed indifference.
Dunbakel quickly shook her head.
"If the leader goes, so do I."
"Do as you wish."
Enkrid, however, felt his curiosity piqued.
What was Krang doing now? What was his game?
Though this wasn't a battlefield where blades spoke louder than words, seeing Krang's back made him seem like a general ready to take on hundreds or thousands.
Watching him sparked a strange feeling inside Enkrid—a desire, something he hadn't expected.
"Do you want to improve your skills?"
Rem's casual question came to mind.
When he had nodded, what had Rem said?
Enkrid turned his gaze to Krang, trying to remember the words he had once heard.
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