589. Concerns and Worries
"Is misfortune on its way?"
Encrid had never dismissed the ferryman's warnings lightly. He always listened attentively and never disregarded his words. As always, Encrid was earnest.
"Is it coming for real this time?"
As two consecutive questions spilled out, the ferryman stared at him blankly. If the ferryman's gaze contained a curse, Encrid would have noticed. However, today, the ferryman's gaze was devoid of emotion. He looked more gray than ever, like a puppet with no feelings or a mask carved from stone.
The purple lamp's glow illuminated his face from below, casting shadows that split at his nose and reached his forehead. His appearance could easily haunt one's dreams. By that logic, this very moment could be a dream.
Whether this was a dream or reality, Encrid did not let appearances scare him. He spoke his mind, prompting the ferryman to answer his question.
"I don't want today to be the day you'll regret."
The tone lacked emotion but feigned kindness, as if a child were mimicking an adult or vice versa. Their gazes intersected in the air for a moment. Encrid, perched casually near the ship's edge, stared intently at the ferryman, though it was hard to glean anything from his gaze.
So, as usual, he simply spoke with sincerity.
"Really?"
It was pure curiosity. He wanted to know if misfortune was truly approaching or if it was just another scare tactic. The unexpected response didn't faze the ferryman. Normally, such reactions would reveal cracks or hesitation, but today, the ferryman was like a rock.
He completely ignored Encrid's words.
"I will give you two choices."
He continued, unbothered. Encrid listened attentively. Listening earnestly was his specialty. It wasn't embarrassing that the other person didn't react.
The ferryman placed the lamp on the table and held up two fingers. His gray fingers and dull, milky nails cast shadows in the lamp's glow. Curling his middle finger, he extended only his index finger and spoke.
"First, find a rock, bash your head, and die immediately."
What did that mean? It was like when he faced the Overdeer. It implied pausing and savoring the present. Of course, the suggestion was absurd, so the ferryman continued speaking in a steady stream.
"Thus, you can enjoy an eternity of days like today. You’ll be lauded by passing travelers, walk with the sun and the wind as your friends, sleep under the moon and stars, and exchange a few jokes with your companions. It will be a comfortable, restful existence."
Encrid refrained from pointing out that if he had wanted a life like today, he wouldn’t have come this far. The ferryman surely already knew this, and Encrid’s silent gaze answered for him.
Without waiting for a response, the ferryman continued.
"The second choice is to turn back and prepare to face the wall. Not now, but later. Face another wall, not this one."
What could this be called? Advice? A warning? It was certainly something similar. The ferryman was far more serious than when he spoke of swords.
Encrid stared into the ferryman’s colorless eyes. Were they as dark as a demon's? Perhaps not. On closer inspection, the ferryman's eyes held faint color. Though muted gray, distinguishing his pupils allowed Encrid to discern a certain look—concern.
If his senses weren’t failing him, that’s what it seemed to be. But in this dreamlike realm, the ferryman could show only what he wanted. Encrid remembered the ferryman once saying something similar before, warning that events in dreams wouldn’t be remembered. Yet, Encrid remembered.
He couldn’t recall every word the ferryman had ever said, but the main threads were etched in his memory. That’s how he recognized today’s ferryman was different. Usually, he showed not an ounce of concern, offering only straightforward advice. Today was unusual. The ferryman wasn’t telling him not to surpass the wall but to find another wall to face—later, when the timing was right.
Was this bad advice? No. It could be wise. Circumventing obstacles was clever when faced with an impassable block.
"You will regret moving forward."
The ferryman’s dull gray lips moved. This was his usual refrain. In this dreamlike world, the meaning transmitted directly without sound waves vibrating the air.
The ferryman had offered a crossroads—two options and directions for which path to take. But whether the ferryman’s concern was genuine or his words correct didn’t matter to Encrid.
It wasn’t about pride or stubbornness. Tomorrow is always uncertain, which is why life is beautiful and worth enjoying. Encrid truly believed this and rejected the idea that repeating today constituted eternity.
That was the difference between the ferryman’s view of the world and Encrid’s. Thus, Encrid would not follow the ferryman’s advice. If the ferryman’s warnings were based on foresight, Encrid was even less likely to heed them. Even if the foretold future was harsh, he would still forge ahead.
That was how Encrid had always lived.
"Thank you for the advice."
Encrid spoke and awoke. Morning rain fell with a soft pattering sound. Light fog greeted him, and the temperature was even colder than the previous day. Blowing warm breath into his hands, he watched as white mist escaped his lips.
"Need a hug to warm up?"
Nearby, Luagarne kicked at the damp campfire and spoke. Encrid blinked a few times, processing what he’d just heard before replying.
"Do you associate with Sinar now?"
"Of course! The fairy said you’d respond like that."
Luagarne puffed his cheeks and laughed. Hadn’t they said this journey would be enjoyable despite its brevity? Even Encrid didn’t dislike it. It was an enjoyable time.
The ferryman’s words? If he lived burdened by such concerns, he would have stopped today as advised. But since he wouldn’t, he chose to forget and move forward.
Reflecting momentarily, Encrid admired Sinar. Despite not being present, the fairy managed to relay her joke through someone else. What a remarkable ability.
Fairy humor wasn’t a widespread trend or contagious like an illness. Only two people besides Sinar joked like this: Esther and Luagarne.
She had wanted to join them, but recent cult activity in the nearby woods kept her busy, performing strange rituals. That was why Sinar wasn’t here. She always displayed a strong sense of responsibility, whether as a platoon leader or during the mission to save Krang. Once she took on a task, she saw it through.
Did that inspire confidence? Certainly. Encrid considered himself fortunate. He thought he was surrounded by good, albeit eccentric, people.
He didn’t realize it was his presence that drew people in, but such things are hard for one to notice themselves.
"Let’s get going."
Encrid spoke, continuing his journey to Cross Guard. The rain soon stopped, revealing a picturesque blue sky. By noon, the sun cast its warm rays.
For a moment, Audin crossed his mind. As much as he admired him, today’s sunlight felt warmer than holy radiance.
The two travelers arrived at Cross Guard. Seeing the parapets and walls brought back memories of their previous visit—thorn-covered mages, Finn, Torres, and the werewolf pack.
Back then, they had struggled to climb the walls. Repeated efforts eventually opened the path. But now, simply walking up caused the gates to open.
Thud-thud-thud.
The oil-soaked wooden doors, reinforced with iron bands, opened left and right. Inside, soldiers operated pulleys. There was no moat, but the thick walls compensated. Looking at the battlements, Encrid realized his physical abilities had improved since last time. Climbing these walls now would be much easier.
But he also noticed something new—sharp spikes had been added to the battlements, turning them into blade-covered defenses.
It was a reaction to his previous attack, and Encrid knew Abnair had implemented this measure.
"There’s a saying: it’s like erecting fences only after ghouls have invaded. It’s an obvious truth, but isn’t it better to build the fences, even belatedly? If you don’t, it’s like inviting them back."
Those were Abnair’s words, and Encrid agreed deeply. Doing nothing after an attack was akin to inviting disaster.
Late or not, taking action mattered. As he passed through the open gates, Encrid scanned his surroundings.
Several things caught his attention. Among them were robed figures standing randomly amidst makeshift shacks. They exuded palpable wariness.
Having risen to knighthood, Encrid’s senses were sharper than ever, and even their glances conveyed emotions.
‘Wariness.’
The shack dwellers, dressed in ragged clothes and appearing malnourished, watched him with vacant expressions. Their gazes conveyed a different emotion.
‘Anxiety.’
Between them, several armed individuals observed him keenly. Their stares carried clear intent.
‘Curiosity.’
Or perhaps, a sense of competitiveness. Wariness, anxiety, and curiosity swirled together, while the city seemed to carry the scent of smoldering tobacco.
Indeed, some were smoking near the gates.
"Welcome."
Encrid looked at the man greeting him. His narrow eyes resembled those of a snake—at least, that was the first impression.
Krais had widely spread the news that the Border Guard Reserve Unit was heading to Cross Guard due to the cultist issue. It was a deliberate move with mixed intentions. The primary goal was to establish a justification. The message was that the cultist problem was an issue the entire continent needed to address.
Regardless of whether alliances were formed in secret, the reason for boldly stepping forward, even toward enemy nations, was clear.
Could this be why the man had heard of it?
In any case, the snake-eyed man had come to greet Encrid. He introduced himself as an administrative officer working directly under the mayor. He was accompanied by three guards who claimed to be his escorts, though their skills were nothing impressive. Encrid sized them up at a glance.
"How did you know to meet me in advance?"
Encrid asked politely but casually. The snake-eyed man smiled as he replied.
"We were told to be notified immediately when the Border Guard arrived."
By whom? The soldiers stationed on the walls?
There were a few archers stationed atop the walls, but they didn’t appear particularly alert.
Well, it didn’t matter where they got their information.
"It’s an honor to host you, Sir."
Encrid chose not to disclose his identity. Although his reputation had spread widely, it was difficult to identify someone by their appearance or attire alone. His external features were somewhat known, but no portraits or detailed descriptions of his face had ever been shared.
Besides, constant travel and sleeping rough would make even the finest appearance look ragged.
Encrid was no exception.
His habit of frequently replacing armor also made him harder to identify by appearance.
This time, he wore a dark blue cloak over gray scale armor. The shoulder plates had been removed because they restricted his arm movements. The only familiar piece of equipment was the leather gauntlets he wore on his hands.
These gauntlets were practically indestructible. They had been crafted by Eitri using leather purchased from a giant merchant at the Border Guard market. Eitri had commented on the quality of the material while shaping them.
"It seems you know who I am," Encrid said lightly.
"How could anyone not recognize the knight with black hair and blue eyes?"
The snake-eyed man replied with a smile. Encrid nodded. The man’s flattery didn’t particularly appeal to him, but it wasn’t worth making a fuss over.
He couldn’t go around knocking people out just because they annoyed him.
"Allow me to guide you to the mansion."
"No need. An inn will suffice."
Encrid declined politely. The snake-eyed man simply nodded and began walking toward an inn without hesitation or questions.
The three escort guards also followed silently, showing no sign of surprise.
The place they arrived at wasn’t shabby, but a musty smell stung Encrid’s nose.
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