Encrid, considering the context, his current skill, the Knights’ strength, and all other factors, didn’t view the current situation as a crisis.
Although he didn’t know every face gathered ahead, he had heard enough to draw his conclusion.
"A Holy Knight joined them, I heard. But that doesn’t mean we’re not going, right?"
Wasn’t that what Krais had said?
The unpredictability came from those said to be arriving from the Holy Nation.
"They’re in chaos, fighting among their own factions. Add to that the cultists stirring up battles everywhere, monsters pouring out of the Demon Realm… It’s a complete mess, and it’s impossible to guess how they’ll respond."
That’s what they had said. Encrid merely nodded.
Even if every one of them turned into an enemy, he had no intention of changing what he had resolved.
Encrid was always this kind of person. Everyone who knew him understood this.
If he hadn’t been such a madman, he wouldn’t have come this far.
Thus, Encrid solidified his resolve.
Noah would live. The monastery would survive. No one inside would die.
That was his decision. Therefore, this was a commission he gave himself.
"If we’ve become friends, shouldn’t I stop you even more?"
Noah said, still sincere.
"Ah, I’m not great at listening to others."
Encrid’s response left Noah at a loss for words.
"So just watch and see."
The words, imbued with Will, flowed naturally. Encrid’s determination poured out.
Noah, still speechless, looked at the hero who had asked to be his friend.
The hero stood, silhouetted against the light streaming through the window.
* * *
"Gather up."
Encrid said as he stepped out of the room, though everyone was already gathered.
A member of the Cult Extermination Order stepped forward.
No one seemed inclined to stop him; they’d all been through enough just waiting here.
The nameless crusader, his expression tense, spoke urgently, his worry evident.
"Do you even know who’s out there?"
Encrid didn’t. He shook his head.
He had heard bits and pieces but hadn’t paid close attention.
‘What are these people thinking? What brought them here?’
Even though the crusader felt baffled, he had to say his piece.
These weren’t just madmen in name alone.
He needed to warn them of the danger.
At the very least, those who had come here to protect something righteous shouldn’t die needlessly.
"There are two Holy Knights, born of the Scales and Abundance. Both have proven their skill."
The crusader’s tone was serious and weighty.
Surely now they would understand the danger?
Encrid blinked at him as if to say, "And so?"
The crusader couldn’t fully grasp what Encrid’s gaze meant, but it was clear there was no intention to back down.
"Not just ordinary Knights—exceptional Holy Knights."
The crusader reiterated.
It was like asking, "Did you come here knowing this?"
"So they say?"
Encrid casually looked over at his Knights as he asked, his tone indifferent.
"We’ve heard. That’s what they said."
Rem answered, his tone carrying slight annoyance.
He had already heard the crusader’s warnings repeatedly on their way here.
The reason for his irritation? It wasn’t just the crusader’s nagging.
There was only one reason:
Why this in the freezing cold? Danger? Is that something you eat?
His expression and actions made it clear he was thinking along those lines.
Beside him, Ragna pretended to ponder before speaking.
"Are both of them mine?"
Holy Knights? If they were Knights infused with Divine Power, they’d be fun to fight.
Hadn’t Audin, that arrogant bear, claimed he would tame him?
Fighting them would be a perfect warm-up before beating that bear again when he returned.
It would be excellent training. That’s what went through Ragna’s mind.
No one knew what he was truly thinking.
"I’ll show them the swordsmanship of spring winds driving away the cold."
Sinar said something cryptic, though she had mentioned showing Encrid the unique Fairy swordsmanship several times before.
Encrid took it half as a joke.
Sinar’s nonsensical talk didn’t make her skills any less real.
She had the ability to uphold her words and cut down the army ahead using her ‘spring wind’ swordsmanship.
Fairies didn’t bother showing concern for others' feelings, so naturally, they didn’t display any sense of crisis either.
The nameless crusader, watching all this, took a deep breath to steady himself.
It felt like he couldn’t communicate with anyone, and the frustration weighed on him.
Lawford, Pel, and Teresa merely nodded as if to say, "I see. There are Holy Knights."
They wondered if they’d get the chance to fight them.
Even if they couldn’t win, they’d like to try.
Luagarne and Jaxon weren’t much different.
Jaxon thought about charging in to kill them first, while Luagarne was curious how Encrid would fight against Holy Knights.
Even without saying it aloud, their demeanor made their thoughts clear.
It was because Encrid’s madness had permeated the entire order.
"Did you even listen to me?"
The crusader finally snapped.
Though he had witnessed their prowess and heard their titles—Mad Knights and Iron Wall Knights—it was still recent fame.
The two Holy Knights outside had held their positions for over twenty years.
One was known as the ‘Guardian of the Nest’.
The other was called Azratic, ‘The Bone-Breaking Serpent’, who inherited the name of an Apostle of Abundance.
In close combat, Azratic was arguably the best on the continent—a monster.
"Are there no Apostles of the War God here?"
Encrid asked nonchalantly.
Now wasn’t the time for such questions, was it?
The crusader hesitated but answered, planning to address the issue again later.
"There aren’t many followers of the War God. Some might be among them, but those at the level of Knights or Junior-Knights are likely on the battlefield instead."
The internal turmoil within the War God’s Temple after losing Audin had led them to withdraw from many matters, including the Inquisition.
Without opportunities to seize power, they naturally lost influence.
As a result, the Temple became more reclusive.
Even so, Encrid wasn’t concerned about the internal politics.
"Holy War?"
"A fight to stop the monsters."
The crusader’s face darkened as he muttered to himself.
"A real holy war."
By holy war, the crusader referred to the fight against the Demon Realm’s invasion.
Encrid nodded.
Even in such times, there were those doing their part.
Otherwise, the continent would have fallen into ruin long ago.
So Encrid would do his part as well.
"Azr? What’s that?"
"Azratic! It’s Azratic!"
The crusader, growing agitated, raised his voice.
Not all Knights were the same.
"Agreed."
The gray-haired barbarian beside them nodded.
What’s with these people?
Azratic was a Holy Knight with a twenty-year history as ‘The Serpent’.
Anyone caught in his grip would suffer far worse than a broken bone.
Yet why did they show no sense of danger?
"Are you seriously going to fight?"
"Do we look like we’re here for a picnic?"
Encrid replied to the crusader and led everyone toward the monastery entrance.
It was his way of ending the conversation.
The crusader followed, unable to argue further.
Walking through the monastery, they passed tangled vines, statues of the God of Abundance, and small shacks.
The residents stood along the road, watching the group pass.
Their gazes were a mix of hope and fear.
In truth, there was far more fear than hope.
Encrid walked silently, undeterred.
The crusader wondered whether giving them false hope or making them face harsh reality was the better choice.
Even Noah had lied to comfort the children, wrestling with his conscience.
As they passed, a child asked,
"Mister, did you come to protect us?"
A middle-aged priestess placed a hand on the child’s shoulder.
No one blamed the child for asking. It was a question everyone here wanted to ask.
After organizing the monastery, Noah had taken in orphans from nearby towns.
"Share what little food we have and squeeze in tighter to sleep. That’s enough, isn’t it?"
He had said.
That decision, however, might not have been the right one.
His care for the children had now endangered their lives, potentially leading to over a dozen child corpses.
The crusader, knowing this, couldn’t just stand by and watch, which was why he had come.
"Must the innocent die for the sake of power and ambition? Lord, give me an answer."
Since God hadn’t provided an answer, he sought it himself.
The monastery child’s question was tinged with equal parts fear and hope.
Encrid placed his hand on the child’s head.
"Of course."
Would this simple answer bring them hope?
Though their fear lightened slightly, the dark clouds didn’t dissipate.
That was natural. Words alone couldn’t erase fear.
At the monastery’s gate, they saw an enemy force partially organized.
A man sat in a tall chair at the center, surrounded by others, likely key members of the ghoul kin who worshiped the Gray God.
As they walked, the crusader, still following beside Encrid, continued speaking nonstop.
He genuinely worried for them.
"There are more than just the two Holy Knights. There are priests and those skilled in divine magic. One named Noma can fire over twenty Gray Holy Bursts at once, each with the force of a giant’s blow. No matter how skilled your order is, facing them head-on is reckless. We need a strategy, or…"
Though slightly noisy, Encrid didn’t mind.
He noticed the crusader’s dented breastplate and weary expression, evidence of sleepless nights.
He had nearly died days ago trying to steal food.
His left leg had a subtle limp, barely noticeable unless closely observed.
He was clearly enduring pain while pretending to be fine.
Encrid also saw how his pupils wavered at the child’s question.
Even so, he kept his composure, standing tall, telling the child not to worry.
"He must know that showing weakness would affect others."
Encrid had learned about him from Noah.
Despite belonging to the Cult Extermination Order, a group solely focused on destroying cults, he was here.
Why?
Noah had explained,
"I couldn’t just stand by and watch the innocent die. That’s all there is to it."
That’s what he had said.
Encrid liked him for that.
This was a man who saw injustice, deemed it wrong, and came here prepared to die for it.
Would his death change anything? Probably not.
From his words, it was clear he knew that too. Yet he accepted it.
Because he believed it was the right thing to do.
That’s what conviction was.
So Encrid liked him.
"Nameless—does that mean you don’t have a name?"
Encrid asked, still watching the distant figures.
"Yes, I haven’t received one yet, Brother. But is that important right now?"
Encrid found the term ‘Brother’ endearing.
"I see."
Before his words settled, gray dust rose from the monastery’s wall, forming a pale, dragonfly-like shape.
"Gray Explosion Spell!"
One of the allied crusaders recognized it and shouted.
The gray mass was a spell that exploded upon contact, a trademark spell of those who had mastered Gray Divine Light.
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