Encrid’s gaze turned to Esther’s eyes. Her pupils burned with intense heat, and her hair rippled despite the absence of wind.
What the hell was going on with her?
"And I have never cut in line. Another drink, please."
Esther's breath carried more than just the scent of the night sky. A rich, sweet yet smoky aroma lingered.
"Yeah, yeah..."
At some point, Krais had retrieved a bottle of fragrant liquor and poured it into the cup Esther extended. It was a smooth but potent drink.
"This is a gift from the Fairy City, isn’t it?"
As Krais poured, Sinar added,
"It’s made from five different fruits and infused with the morning dew. Its name is Tillus Wir. In the common tongue, it means something like Seeping Poison or The Mist That Approaches Without Sound."
So, in short, it was a strong drink.
"I do not get drunk. Don't worry. Glint spells are a wizard’s deepest secret. One does not reveal their vision to just anyone. Sinar, it's good to have you back."
She’s drunk. Encrid was certain.
"Alcohol? I do not get drunk. Why are you looking at me like that? The night sky is spinning. Could it be that today is the end of the world? Are the stars falling to shatter the earth? If so, I cannot just sit here. Enki, come with me. I need to find a place to stay for a while."
She was definitely drunk.
"Is there no place for me?"
Krais chuckled as he interjected. Apparently, he found Esther adorable.
"You damned claw thief."
Esther suddenly clenched her fist and swung it at him.
Krais, having trained his body to some extent, instinctively leaned back to avoid the punch.
A whoosh rang through the air as her fist sliced through it.
If it had connected, at the very least, it would have fractured something.
Despite her slender frame, Esther’s hands carried the strength of a panther.
She had told them herself—she gained this power after transforming into a Lake Panther.
"Not the face."
But Krais' response while dodging was ridiculous. So, anywhere else was fine?
"Why not the face?"
Rem, overhearing, swallowed the meat he had been chewing and asked.
With how he was eating, one would expect grease to be smeared all over his mouth, but surprisingly, he was neat.
Now that Encrid thought about it, Rem was full of unexpected traits.
Despite his appearance, he was sharp-minded, cunningly orchestrated schemes, and even when tormenting others, he did it with calculated intent.
‘Even when he killed nobles, he only chose those beyond saving.’
He deliberately cultivated a reputation for cruelty, ensuring that only those with true malice bore grudges against him.
Even now, the way he ate cleanly was another unexpected aspect of him. Most likely, he only showed this kind of behavior within the order.
It was just a passing thought, but an amusing one nonetheless.
"Unlike Rem, I actually take care of my appearance."
Krais slowly stepped away from Esther as he spoke.
Did he even realize what he was saying?
Idiot.
That was where Krais' unpredictability showed. Normally, he planned everything meticulously, but at times like this, he blurted things out absentmindedly.
Surely, he knew what Rem's reaction would be, yet he spoke without thinking.
"And what about me?"
Rem asked.
The smile on his lips was chilling, so eerie that it seemed to dim the firelight.
"Y-you're the most handsome man the West has ever produced."
Krais quickly tried to salvage the situation.
"It's too late, you bastard. Today, I'm going to make your face look very manly."
Rem unsheathed a dagger made of bone.
It radiated an ominous aura, where the hell did he even get something like that?
"Whoa, whoa, don’t do this. Ragna, Audin, Captain! Captain!"
Krais scrambled behind the campfire, but the flames flared outward, as if reaching for him.
Sinar, watching the flickering fire, murmured to herself with a blank expression.
"It’s okay now. It’s okay."
The demon’s fire was gone. She knew that, but a brand burned into one's soul did not fade easily.
"Where's Bran?"
Encrid asked, momentarily distracted by the commotion.
Sinar promptly answered.
"He refuses to quit smoking. It's funny, isn't it? A Woodguard addicted to tobacco?"
It wasn’t funny at all. Especially not now that Encrid knew why Bran smoked.
"I’m going to step outside for some air. Big Eyes, a few scars on the face won’t hurt."
Ragna stood up and left.
Krais snapped back.
"You don’t even have a single scar on your face!"
"That’s because no one's been able to put one there."
Ragna was normally a man of few words, always moving as though burdened by life’s many inconveniences.
But among these people, he talked quite a bit. He also never showed laziness. That was his unexpected side.
"That was an insufferable thing to say. Please say that in front of the whole unit later. They’ve been getting complacent lately."
Lawford commented on Ragna’s remark.
Pel grumbled beside him, demanding to know how that even made sense, before grabbing the expensive fairy liquor and chugging it straight from the bottle.
"Hey, if you drink all of that by yourself, I’ll cut open your stomach and take my share."
Rem muttered something horrifying.
Audin didn’t even hesitate to grab Pel by the neck and pry the bottle from his mouth.
Pel instinctively resisted, only to get smacked.
"It’s divine punishment."
No, Audin. That was just violence.
Ragna couldn’t be sent off alone, so Lawford got up and followed him.
Meanwhile, Encrid took a sip of the liquor Krais had brought.
‘Strong.’
Yet beneath the heavy alcohol aroma, a sweet and tangy taste danced on his tongue.
It lived up to its name Seeping Poison, but instead of an overwhelming burn, its flavor seeped in first, heating the tongue gently.
With alcohol this strong, it made sense that Esther had passed out.
"I will save you. Do not worry. Fools, all of them."
Esther muttered as she lay there.
At some point, her robe had spread out, transforming into a thick blanket, yet she still looked cold.
Encrid figured he should fetch a cloak for her later.
"It’s strong liquor. Should we make it a celebratory drink?"
Sinar approached and sat across from him.
"For what?"
He assumed it was just another pointless joke.
"For you finally taking hold of what you desired."
Perhaps influenced by the flickering flames, Sinar wasn’t joking.
She was saying something meaningful, something he needed to hear.
Encrid had once debated the value of peace created through the sword.
He had also once thought that this was the Knighthood he had dreamed of.
But if he was being honest, he simply liked this.
He liked standing beside these madmen.
He liked protecting those behind him.
He liked that he could fight for his will and move forward.
He liked all of it.
"Sometimes, you need to put aside your worries and rest."
Sinar said. Then she added,
"In my arms."
But Encrid ignored that part. He ate, drank, and slept. And then he dreamed.
"The weather is nice. Today, I will tell you an old story. It’s a good one—about a fairy who loved to joke."
An old woman, who had once sold her body to survive, now found peace as she placed her grandchild on her lap and told stories.
‘Business is hard. But when I see my little one’s face, I feel like I can keep going.’
A fruit vendor thought of his wife and child as he pulled his cart.
Among the flower fields, a shy young man and woman whispered sweet words to each other.
A soldier, tasked with maintaining order, complained that he was getting fat from inactivity.
A baker, seeing this, scolded him, telling him to wake up earlier and run. The soldier retorted that the baker should mind his own business.
The baker, who was also his father, snapped back, saying,
"Your father is too busy baking bread every morning. If you don’t like it, quit and start baking."
In this dream, no one feared the monsters outside the village.
No one worried that war would come to burn everything down.
There were no bandits to steal from them.
Even the lord wondered if maintaining the city walls was necessary.
Outside this peaceful town, Encrid held his sword. Peace did not come by lying back and waiting.
"The Knight who will end the war!
The Knight who will drench war in twilight!
We shall call him…
The Knight of Twilight!
The Knight of the End!
The Knight who will bring war to its final breath!"
With the bard’s song, the dream ended.
Encrid woke at dawn and began training.
Meanwhile, when morning came, Esther recalled the events of last night, let out a silent scream, and disappeared for two whole days.
According to the soldiers stationed in the mountains, horrifying screams echoed from there. Mixed in were the wails of monsters and beasts alike.
"Well, that's one hell of a way to blow off steam."
Rem muttered.
Encrid let out a small chuckle.
And then, a few days later, a summons came from Eitri. He was asked to come to the forge.
Hearing the news, Encrid's heart pounded with anticipation.
It wasn’t an engraved weapon, but it was said to be a step just before that.
How could he not be excited?
As soon as he finished his early morning training, he sprinted across the city and headed straight for the forge.
"You’re here."
Eitri greeted him as if he had been waiting. The heat of the forge, hotter than the crisp morning air, surrounded them.
Eitri sat in the midst of it, with his apprentice standing beside him, a hood pulled over his head.
"Do you know about the three greatest metals of the continent?"
Encrid simply tilted his head in response instead of answering.
Eitri took that as his cue to continue.
"I don’t."
This time, he shook his head.
People tend to be knowledgeable about subjects they are interested in.
Encrid had heard bits and pieces about Valyrian Steel, True Silver, and Black Gold, but beyond that, he knew little.
The apprentice brought out a chair, and Encrid sat down.
There were two steaming cups of tea on the table.
Eitri placed a long, cloth-wrapped bundle onto the table and spoke.
"The Eastern Wastelands yielded Black Gold from Uver Mountain, and True Silver came from the mines of Lewis.
You do know that despite their names, neither actually contains real gold or silver, right?"
That much, he knew.
He nodded, prompting Eitri to continue.
"And in the Valeri Mines, there is a rare ore known as True Iron. It has a dark blue hue. Normally, the stronger a metal is, the more brittle it becomes. But Valyrian True Iron doesn’t have that weakness. And when you melt down a meteorite, it yields Star Iron."
Encrid listened carefully, starting to understand where this was going.
"This armor you brought back contains traces of Star Iron. And the other metal… it was a Philosopher’s Stone, also known as Living Metal."
The first sword Encrid had received was made from Black Gold.
The next was forged from True Silver.
The one he currently held—Penna, a blade crafted by the fairy blacksmith. Penna—was made of a special variation of True Silver called Moonlight Silver.
Eitri's eyes burned with passion.
A scholar dedicates their life to knowledge.
A Knight immerses themselves in the art of the sword.
And a craftsman?
Especially one facing a challenge they’ve never encountered before?
Desires change over time, but right now, Encrid knew exactly what Eitri wanted.
"You want me to get you True Iron?"
"Yes."
Eitri answered without hesitation.
It was as if a swordsman had drawn his blade without anyone noticing, only to reveal it at the perfect moment—quick, precise, and without doubt.
Right now, what this craftsman wanted above all else was materials.
"Just say it outright next time."
"Yes, I will."
It wasn’t that Eitri had been beating around the bush.
‘He's just enjoying this.’
He was reveling in the process of forging an engraved weapon.
He didn’t see the present as suffering or despair. And that was the right mindset.
A madman who swung his hammer with joy, even through the struggle.
‘That’s what you are.’
Encrid thought.
If Eitri had heard that, he probably would’ve given him a very unsettling look.
After all that build-up, Eitri finally returned to his usual composed demeanor.
He unwrapped the cloth on the table.
"The path is becoming clearer. You could say this is my first real test. Do you like the form?"
The path—he was talking about the method to forge engraved weapons.
And by calling this a test and asking about the shape, he meant that if Encrid approved, this would be the final form.
Penna was a short blade with a single-edged design. Even so, it was an excellent weapon.
It fit his hand perfectly, and once he grew used to it, its cutting power became another weapon in itself.
Even Rem had grumbled every time his axe clashed against Penna.
"If this keeps up, my axe is gonna start feeling insulted."
That’s what he had said.
Ragna had been even more blunt.
"It’s about time you got a new sword."
"I need to go retrieve a sword."
"From where?"
"There’s a place for that."
The fact that he didn’t specify a destination meant he intended to leave forever.
"This isn’t a journey, Ragna. It’s a farewell."
Krais’ words echoed Encrid’s own thoughts. In the end, Ragna didn’t leave.
"Hmm, well… the way back is a little confusing."
That just made it even clearer, he should never be left alone.
If Ragna was confused about directions, he’d probably end up wandering, boarding some ship, and drowning in the ocean.
Regardless, Penna was that good of a weapon.
Finding something he liked more would be difficult.
Encrid grasped the hilt of the sword lying on the table.
The pommel, wrapped in smooth brown leather, was simple in design, shaped like a pointed diamond.
The ricasso area of the blade was left unsharpened.
The guard was nothing more than a straight line, without engravings or embellishments.
"The tip of the blade is forged from Black Gold. The edge is mixed with True Silver. The core of the sword is Star Iron."
The Philosopher’s Stone had been melted down to bind the three metals together.
The blade itself was longer than a typical one-handed sword, almost resembling a greatsword. The grip was proportionally long as well.
The blade’s thickness was similar to that of a spatha, slightly thicker than average.
Overall, it had the form of a greatsword, but it wasn’t something that couldn’t be wielded with one hand.
A Knight’s strength was enough to swing a club made of five iron maces fused together.
And among Knights, Encrid was exceptionally strong.
"I love it. It’s perfect."
Encrid said.
A phrase suddenly came to mind– Love at first sight.
That’s exactly what this was. The form alone was magnificent.
Even without testing its balance, it was already his ideal weapon
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