It was at the open door of the inn that the administrator had left ajar.
Outside stood a figure wearing a hood.
That figure looked somewhat familiar.
On closer inspection, it seemed to be one of the people who had been watching Encrid cautiously when he entered the city.
Encrid gazed at him indifferently.
The administrator, without turning around, spoke.
"No, you cannot. Outside, there are many aiming for the distinguished guest. Please proceed to the manor immediately."
"Damn it. You bastard."
The hooded man ground his teeth at the administrator.
The relationship between the two didn’t appear to be amicable.
The hooded man then turned his gaze back to Encrid.
The administrator, however, hadn’t shifted his gaze at all since earlier.
Two pairs of eyes were fixed on Encrid, as if forcing him to make a choice.
It almost seemed like a fork in the road. But perhaps it wasn’t as significant as a fork in the road.
If the choice were made incorrectly, would something happen, as the ferryman had once suggested?
That thought briefly crossed Encrid’s mind, but he did not hesitate.
No matter which path he chose, it would be his decision.
For the moment, he was more interested in what the hooded man had to say.
Looking instead at the administrator, there was an uneasy feeling that nagged at him.
But it wasn’t enough to provoke immediate action.
Encrid walked past the administrator, patting his shoulder as he went.
"I’ll talk with him and visit you in the evening."
"Sir!"
The snake-eyed administrator called after Encrid, but he walked out without looking back.
Luagarne followed behind him.
Outside, standing before the hooded man, Encrid stopped.
The man spoke.
"The administrator does not care about the city, he only looks out for himself."
His voice was low enough not to be heard by the administrator.
"Why don’t you say it more openly?"
Encrid replied.
"This is a time for staying hidden. Follow me."
The man spoke hurriedly and turned, walking quickly. Without hesitation, he entered a narrow alleyway.
Although the sun was up, the alley was dark and gloomy.
The cold of winter was sharper in the shadowed passageway.
The atmosphere was chilling and ominous.
Yet Encrid followed the hooded man without hesitation.
"Hurry!"
The man urged, and Encrid complied, keeping pace.
"That way is dangerous!"
The administrator shouted from behind.
Encrid ignored him and continued walking.
After walking for a while, the familiar uneasy feeling crept back.
It was as if someone was watching, but the watcher couldn’t be identified.
"Does it feel like something’s watching us?"
Encrid asked as he walked, moving at a brisk pace rather than running.
Luagarne puffed her cheek slightly before answering.
"No."
Was it his own sensitivity? Or the oppressive atmosphere of the city?
It was hard to tell.
"Damn it."
The man ahead suddenly stopped.
They had passed through the alleyway to a much wider road, broad enough for five people to walk side by side.
As they exited onto a plaza-like open space, the man halted.
There were many people, and seeing them, the man stopped in his tracks.
Encrid grabbed the hooded man’s cloak and asked.
"A trap? Are you a cultist, perhaps?"
The hooded man removed his hood and answered.
"I’m the lord of this city!"
The lord? Why was he here?
The man appeared to be in his thirties, with light brown hair.
He quickly surveyed the area around them.
"The situation is dire. We’ll clear a path, let’s get out of here."
At the self-proclaimed lord’s words, two more hooded figures sprang out from one side.
Both carried spears, and their handling suggested some degree of skill.
At best, they might qualify for the Border Guard Reserve Unit.
Though they’d need to repeat basic training.
Even now, as they ran forward, their footing was unstable.
Encrid concluded that it was due to weak lower bodies.
In reality, the two had spent days without proper rest, keeping watch for someone from the Border Guard.
They had finally acted after seeing the movements of attackers, but the enemies had moved faster.
The lord, on the run for some unknown reason, neither wanted to die here nor leave the city.
To change his fate, he needed outside help.
But avoiding the grasp of those controlling the city was no easy task.
While barely managing to establish his own faction, reinforcements from the Border Guard had arrived.
His plan was to inform them of the city’s condition and ask for help in eliminating the corrupt forces steeped in prostitution, drugs, and gambling.
But for that, they needed to leave the city alive and in one piece.
And he also needed to gain their trust.
Just as he tried to set things in motion, the city’s criminal organizations moved first.
Even the lord himself didn’t understand how they acted so quickly.
Upon reflection, they had always been one step ahead of him.
"You call yourself the lord, yet you’re on such bad terms with the administrator?"
Unaware of the complexities, Encrid commented nonchalantly.
"That man is not on my side!"
The lord shouted, his frustration evident in his raised voice.
He glanced around and drew his shortsword.
Shing.
Could they escape? The situation was beyond unfavorable.
"My lord, we’ll buy you time."
One of the spear carriers said.
The lord turned to see enemies blocking the path they had come through.
They were surrounded.
Roughly counting, there were over a hundred enemies.
At the center stood three individuals exuding authority, staring at the lord and the two from the Border Guard.
A beastman missing one ear, a scarred and misshapen half-blood Fairy, and a seated female swordsman made up the trio.
The female swordsman was particularly eye-catching.
She wore armor that accentuated her ample chest, her curly red hair framing a mischievous smile.
While not stunningly beautiful, her figure and smile made her irresistibly charming.
"Lord, where are you headed? The Frog and this man seem to be my guests."
The one-eared beastman spoke.
He was the notorious Windblade, a man who ruled the city.
His scimitar at his hip earned him his name, as it was said that when drawn, it struck as swiftly as the wind.
In this world, nicknames were common for anyone even slightly renowned, just like the titles given to Knights.
The half-blood Fairy beside him snorted at Encrid with a contemptuous sneer.
He used poisoned needles and had once disfigured himself through poor use of poison.
Seeing anyone handsome twisted his insides with jealousy.
When encountering such people, he always cursed or tormented them with poison to feel better.
But Encrid’s looks enraged him enough to want him dead.
"Wow, you’re handsome."
The scantily clad female swordsman remarked.
Her revealing armor exposed her shoulders and cleavage.
She had learned an unusual sorcery in her youth—using her body and smile to beguile opponents.
She was preparing to use it now.
It only required the target to look at her body or face to take effect.
She noticed Encrid’s indifferent gaze lingering on her.
Though his eyes seemed disinterested, the fact that he looked was enough for her enchantment to work.
She believed it had already taken hold.
"You!"
The lord shouted in surprise at the three.
He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Weren’t those three supposed to be rivals, fighting tooth and nail for control of the city?
Now they seemed to be waiting here together for him.
"You’re not my type, though."
The woman stuck out her tongue playfully.
Her demeanor was so unexpectedly endearing that even the lord felt his sanity fraying for a moment.
"This is bad. I’ll clear a path, but you must return to the Border Guard and inform them of the situation.
"General Avnair is said to be there. He wouldn’t ignore this city’s plight."
The lord spoke with resolve.
Even if he had to sacrifice his life, he was determined to rid the city of its filth.
He drew his sword with firm conviction.
"I’ll die here. This is where my honor ends. Goddess of Luck, protect the Cross Guard and show mercy to your people."
Luagarne, listening nearby, thought their intelligence gathering was pathetic.
"Nobody seems to know who Encrid is."
Encrid had a similar thought.
Even the three crime lords appeared clueless about who stood before them.
"Your skills aren’t bad. Have you considered staying? I’ll take you under my wing. From now on, call me Master."
The beastman known as Windblade spoke.
Even at his highest estimate, Encrid viewed him as a mere Squire.
That, too, was a generous assessment.
Even with the natural agility of a beastman, he wasn’t exceptional.
The three who ruled the city were weaker than expected.
Was there something else behind their power? Sheer numbers, perhaps?
Even that didn’t seem likely.
With the self-proclaimed lord beside him, it would be easy to find out.
If this was all just part of the lord’s power struggle, Encrid had no intention of picking sides.
But a lunatic who first tried to kill him, then invited him to join, and others who tampered with his food—this required action.
Encrid raised his right hand slightly and asked.
"Who tampered with today’s meal and threatened the innkeeper?"
His calm demeanor starkly contrasted the nervousness or tension others might show.
The three crime lords frowned deeply.
What gave this man such confidence?
Did he not understand the situation?
"What if we did?"
The half-blood Fairy twisted his lips into what could be called a smile.
To an outsider, it might seem like he was pouting angrily, but his face wasn’t exactly pleasant to look at.
"Don’t mess with food."
Encrid stated simply.
"I refuse."
The half-blood Fairy flicked his hand upward.
Specially crafted needles shot toward Encrid’s eyes.
Though called needles, they were more akin to thick, sharp blades.
His throwing skill was impeccable, as aiming for such a small target as the eyes was no easy feat.
"Watch out!"
The lord shouted.
Encrid nonchalantly drew the shortsword gifted to him by Eitri and waved it in front of him.
It was a casual motion, like swatting at flies.
Ting. Ting.
The thick needles struck the blade and fell to the ground.
None of those present could understand how it happened.
In truth, it was simple.
Encrid saw the needles’ trajectory clearly and merely positioned his blade to intercept them.
No special skill or technique was required.
After deflecting the needles, Encrid glanced ahead.
Beyond the criminals blocking his way, he saw a low building and, beyond that, a clear blue sky.
The day was beautiful, the winter sky cloudless and pristine.
The air carried a faint chill, signaling the approach of early winter.
The sky was pure and clean, unlike the city, which was filthy and reeked of decay.
"Do you know the Gilpin Guild? Someone from there came to this city and hasn’t been heard from since."
Encrid asked nonchalantly, his gaze still fixed on the sky.
"They sometimes detain people…"
The lord replied hesitantly, glancing nervously at the others.
Staring at the sky, Encrid thought the situation wasn’t too bad.
He had planned to take action anyway, and now they had all gathered in one place.
He had no reason to complain.
"Lua."
"Got it. I’ll stand guard."
She understood that her role was to protect the lord.
As Encrid calmly walked forward, Windblade drew his weapon.
Shing.
The wide blade shimmered as it was unsheathed, splitting the light.
Windblade’s specialty was swift, wind-like strikes.
But Encrid didn’t even pay close attention to it.
After a brief glance, his focus shifted outward.
The half-blood Fairy readied six poisoned darts, wedged between his fingers.
It was a technique he had trained in all his life.
The armored woman approached Encrid with a smile.
Her sorcery was already in effect.
She used her body and smile to beguile her targets—a technique that had never failed her before.
She walked gracefully toward Encrid, her chest swaying.
Any man would have found it difficult to look away.
"Oh my, your face is just my type—"
She couldn’t finish her sentence.
As Encrid walked, he casually swung his sword.
The blade split the woman’s head open.
At that moment, poisoned darts flew toward him.
Encrid noted that only the tips of the darts were poisoned.
The half-blood Fairy wielded them barehanded, proud of his long, pale fingers.
Indeed, the half-blood Fairy despised covering his hands.
Though his face was disfigured, he took pride in his beautiful fingers and hated obscuring them.
For that reason, he only applied poison to the tips of his darts.
Encrid caught the flying darts one by one.
As long as he avoided the poisoned parts, they were safe to handle.
To an ordinary person, the darts would have been barely visible.
For Encrid, it was effortless.
A Knight was a being that transcended human limitations—a calamity capable of slaying thousands.
This wasn’t even a fight.
When Encrid caught the darts mid-air, the half-blood Fairy froze in shock, unable to speak.
Windblade reflexively lunged, swinging his blade horizontally.
Encrid casually raised his sword vertically, cleaving through Windblade’s weapon and splitting his chest.
The muscles of his chest parted, revealing a still-beating heart.
Luagarne briefly averted her gaze from the gruesome sight.
She had split a heart herself earlier, but that was unavoidable against a Frog.
Watching a still-pulsing heart was not a pleasant experience.
"Is there more?"
After killing two of them in an instant, Encrid asked.
"Kill him!"
The terrified half-blood Fairy screamed.
Most of the attackers had no idea who they were up against.
Many were drugged out of their minds.
Encrid swung his sword.
The first man who rushed at him lost the top of his skull.
The second was punched so hard his face caved in—eyes, nose, and mouth obliterated.
A few more swings followed, though calling it a fight would be generous.
Other than a few drugged assailants, no one even posed a challenge.
As fear overtook them, the attackers began to flee.
It took five strikes of the blade to clear the area.
Encrid flicked his sword, sending droplets of blood splattering onto the ground.
The blade, tempered with black gold, felt heavier and cut differently than before.
Its heft made powerful strikes easier.
Earlier, two men had been cleaved in a single stroke, the blade slicing through them as if they were nothing.
It could rightly be called a masterpiece.
Eitri’s craftsmanship seemed to improve with every passing day.
"So, you’re the lord, aren’t you?"
Encrid turned to see the man standing with his jaw slack, nearly drooling.
"Y-yes, that’s me. I’m the lord."
He replied, his expression one of utter shock, as though he had forgotten how to speak.
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