Chapter 553 - The Youngest Gone Mad with Blood
Harrison was a noble who cultivated his land with his own hands. Even as his skin darkened under the sun and his hair receded, he upheld his life's purpose. Why? Because he loved the land, found joy in his work and had a clear goal in life.
So it didn't matter if soone mocked him for being bald or called him a miser. Was he not living a life of luxury? On the contrary, he enjoyed greater indulgence than a king.
Who got to taste the finest wheat, grain and fruit from his land first—the king or himself?
Himself.
There was no greater luxury. He was both noble and farr.
"Is it really just the safe route you need?" Enkrid asked again.
Harrison found his counterpart's reaction unusual. He had never t soone like this before. Usually, people would demand sothing in return for such help or at least ask him to join their faction.
It wasn't strange for a noble to serve under another noble.
Wasn't the Duke of Okto also surrounded by a group of subordinate nobles? But Enkrid didn't seem to want anything. He just offered to help.
"Why are you being so kind?" Harrison asked.
After all, he had obstructed Enkrid and challenged him despite knowing his reputation. Even if Enkrid had threatened to cut off an arm or a leg, Harrison wouldn't have been able to complain.
Not that he would have offered his limbs without a fight, of course.
"Just because." Enkrid didn't bother explaining himself. That's just the kind of person he was.
Naturally, Harrison found it perplexing, having never encountered soone like him before.
At that mont, the gray-haired noble slayer stepped forward, holding a wine glass in one hand and remarked surprisingly well-suited to the scene: "That's just how he is. I'm sure there's a reason, but don't bother trying to understand it. It'll only give you a headache. Instead, have you heard about the blackened stray cat burned by heartbreak from countless won?"
Rem had been spreading Jaxen's nickna for so ti. Harrison ignored Rem's rambling and looked at Enkrid who spoke as if reading his thoughts: "Cultivate your land, if that is your dream."
"See? No reason at all." Rem said.
Harrison was struck speechless, as though he'd been hit by lightning. A dream?
Did he even understand what he was saying? Harrison had tried to establish a local militia similar to a safe route within his domain, but it was easier said than done.
The ti and costs were no joke. Hiring rcenaries wasn't much different from letting bandits into his land.
What if rcenaries decided to seize the territory?
Or caused trouble?
Or, worse, accidentally killed one of his people and called it a mistake?
Did he have the power to punish them?
Ultimately, he needed trustworthy people to form a militia, but swordsmanship talent wasn't exactly common. He could build walls for defense, but cultivating an entire force to protect the farmlands was far more difficult.
Moreover, while Harrison excelled at raising farrs, he wasn't skilled at nurturing warriors. A few wandering swordsn seeking stability had lent their strength, helping him hold out so far.
Still, Harrison dread of reclaiming all the dead land and protecting the farms. Based on his knowledge, it was possible.
He knew it wouldn't be easy—far from it.
'But I have to do it.'
For the sake of his descendants, for his land to thrive and for a better future, he had to. Yet whenever he tried, those around him always tried to dissuade him.
"You're already doing fine, so why push it further?"
"Why expand the land?"
"People dying to monsters is natural. There's no need to invite death intentionally."
No, it wasn't natural. He didn't seek to expand the land at the cost of lives to monsters. He wanted to cultivate safely, protect those who wished to work and offer them a better life.
Wasn't that the duty of a lord? That was how Harrison saw it, even if others mocked him. A miser living off the land—that's what people called him. And now, here stood Enkrid: the leader of the Madn Knights, a hero of the Border Guard, The demon slayer and The knight of unyielding wall.
Enkrid who could have dismissed him with even harsher words, was telling him this: To cultivate the land and fulfill his dream.
Harrison thought of his wife waiting at ho.
"Wouldn't the god of prosperity send a ssage when they need you?"
Why was that mory surfacing now? Was this the mont? He didn't know. But even if it wasn't the gods, Harrison chose to believe this was it. While gods gave life, it was a being's will that made them live it. With that will, Harrison made up his mind.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a glass bottle.
"Give the one you handed earlier. Let's trade."
Without asking why, Enkrid handed it over. The glass bottles exchanged hands. Dozens of pairs of eyes were watching them. Among the spectators were Marquis Varnas and Duke Okto.
Even Krang had taken a seat. When kings entered a banquet hall, it was standard to announce their arrival loudly, but Krang had stopped them. Clearly, sothing interesting was unfolding, so he decided to enjoy the show.
Harrison was a well-known figure. He was a noble who stubbornly fard and harvested his own land. In his domain, it was mandatory for everyone to study and research ways to increase yields. Even the lord himself led by example, and experts were employed to specialize in such matters.
Whether by divine whim or not, a miraculous blessing had touched his land ten years ago. It wasn't a bountiful harvest or anything mundane; it was an actual divine event.
A small spring had bubbled up, leaving just enough water for a single sip before vanishing. At dawn, Harrison, pitchfork in hand, discovered the spring and carefully scooped the water into his palms.
Strangely, not a single drop fell. He bottled the water in an expensive glass flask, one he would never have used otherwise. It beca the fad holy spring water.
Priests and rchants had tried to claim it, but Harrison had refused.
He even carried other potions to dispel the rumors.
"Holy spring water."
Now, he had taken it out. The very water he'd denied having. Enkrid took the flask without a second glance, tucking it away without questioning its authenticity.
He accepted it simply because it was given to him. The holy spring water was priceless. It couldn't be exchanged for gold, no matter how much.
"Hah!"
One of the watching nobles gasped. He gave that away? Enkrid, sensing the reactions asked, "It seems valuable. Why give it to ?"
Half-joking, he threw out the question. Harrison, for the first ti since the tournant smiled—a rough, genuine smile.
"Just because."
"I'll put it to good use."
"Do so."
And that was that. Harrison didn't tell Enkrid to keep his promise or demand anything.
To most people, this was beyond strange.
So muttered questions: "Why give him that?"
"What's going on between them?"
"Because he's handso?"
So uttered nonsense, but it was simply a matter between the two of them.
"Puh, you watched without even breathing."
When Krang spoke among the onlookers, those who recognized the king stepped back.
"Ah, Your Majesty."
"Oh, when did you get here!"
"Carry on as you were. Don't mind ."
After saying this, Krang approached Enkrid.
"I told you not to hate him, but did you tornt him instead?"
Although they were friends, in public Krang was still the king. But since this was a banquet hall, it wasn't exactly an official occasion.
"Who tornted whom?"
It was a joke asking if Enkrid had bullied soone to snatch a precious item. Enkrid quickly caught on and replied.
"As long as it's not true."
That was Krang's opening line.
"I heard you're still alone. Why is that?"
The Duke of Okto suddenly butted in.
"Do I need a reason for that?"
"Not at all. I heard Kin secured a position at the Border Guard. Did you know that?"
Then the Marquis of Baisar chid in. It was as if they had been dying to talk to Enkrid all along.
"I doubt he knows, Marquis."
Kin Baisar, who had also recently returned to the capital for so business, was nearby. She spoke to the Marquis of Baisar then turned to Enkrid with a slight bow and said, "You'll rember my na by now, won't you?"
While there were many who were captivated by Enkrid's face and aura, Kin Baisar wasn't one of them.
She kept a suitable distance. She was beautiful, but Kin was not foolish enough to set her heart on a man uninterested in her.
"It's not a na easy to forget." Enkrid greeted her smoothly.
What followed was the banquet. Eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves—that kind of banquet.
But no one was reckless enough to get drunk and cause a scene in front of the king. And besides, they were all busy greeting Enkrid and leaving an impression.
So young nobles were jealous of him, but there were far more who respected or admired Enkrid. Of course, part of that envy was due to his looks.
"With a face like that, what are we supposed to do?"
Such comnts were whispered around. Even those who envied him acknowledged Enkrid's abilities. Now and then, nobles known for bloodshed wandered about, exchanging bits of gossip.
Despite rumors of him being a madman, he was surprisingly clean-cut—particularly regarding won.
"Your na is Rem, correct?"
A widow who had lost her husband early gently touched Rem's arm as she spoke. It was a signal—a subtle way of expressing interest.
"I have a wife." With one sentence, Rem firmly rejected her.
Such incidents happened more than once. Yet, Rem continued conversing politely, showing no signs of displeasure.
There was no force or violence in his words, nor any chilling aura. He simply talked while sipping wine and eating dishes, bread and desserts. It was a scene commonly seen at banquets.
He didn't discriminate by status or gender. He even spoke to bodyguards who had accompanied the guests, so of whom were clearly stagnant in skill. Rem offered them all advice.
"Hey, you should focus on consistent training first. Complaining about talent with that belly fat? Want to split your head with an axe?"
At tis, his words sounded brutal, but everyone speaker and listener alike—took it as a joke. And that was enough. His closing comnts, however, often sounded similar.
"Have you heard the rumors at Border Guard? About a stray cat wandering around every night because he keeps getting dumped by won?
Think it's nonsense?
What? You're saying I'm not that kind of person? Sure, I'm not. But that cat is real. His na is Jaxen. Don't forget it."
Such words flowed naturally. He would talk to attendants, semi knights, nobles—anyone, young or old.
In contrast, Audin, who had previously been misunderstood as the "bear beastman" rely observed the surroundings. So people approached Audin to talk and he did respond, but not with the sa energy as Rem.
Even so, Audin still said what needed to be said.
"You an the sly stray cat? Yes, he's real. Oh, and the bloodthirsty maniac? Yes, he enjoys seeing blood, but he's bedridden right now he broke his leg. That's what happens when you neglect training.
The youngest—ah, that's a inside nickna in the knight order. Don't mind it.
Oops, I misspoke. Lord above, punish my unworthy lips."
"So the bloodthirsty maniac is the youngest?"
"That just slipped out. Please forget it."
While Rem spoke to anyone and everyone, Audin used a far more refined thod. When you ask people to spread rumors, they keep silent. But if you ask them to forget, they'll spread it even further.
Thus was born the tale of the bloodthirsty youngest. Though, of course no one realized it just yet.
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