Sssssss…
The mist and the Scalor had good synergy. That was why they had likely deployed the Fog of Annihilation However, there were only four Knights here.
Ordinary monsters wouldn't even be able to stall them. Ragna was the first to prove that fact.
His greatsword cleaved through the Scalor, which had acted as the medium for the sorcery.
Normally, that wouldn’t have been so easy. How did he manage to chase down and kill a medium that had been hiding in the back, securing as much distance as possible while only rolling its eyes?
Ragna simply advanced straight ahead, plunging himself directly into the enemy’s encirclement.
If the monsters had been intelligent beings, they would have called it sheer madness.
If enemies aimed for his back, then all he had to do was surround himself with enemies on all sides. Then, as long as he cut down everything in front of him and behind him, it didn’t matter.
Ragna’s thought process was simple.
The miscalculation of the Scalor pack began when their medium was slain by that unexpected charge.
‘Even with the mist, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.’
With that conclusion, Encrid took the hand of a lady in an amber dress and danced.
His feet moved tirelessly, stepping in rhythm, his sword swinging in tandem—catching the head of a Scalor.
Shhk!
The creature’s head was severed without resistance by the blade.
Black Gold added weight to the strike, accelerating the speed, while Star Iron maintained the balance.
The sensation of cutting went beyond mere satisfaction—it was invigorating.
‘This feels amazing.’
Was it Eitri’s improved craftsmanship? Or was it simply the difference in materials?
‘Probably both.’
Compared to the Black Gold and Jin Silver he had previously wielded, this one fit his hand far better. The way it responded to him almost felt like Lady Three-Iron herself was whispering to him.
Telling him how glad she was to have met such a splendid partner.
"Me too."
Encrid muttered something under his breath that, to anyone else, would have sounded like the ramblings of a madman. But he continued to move, assisting his Lady in her dance.
His movements weren’t random. He spun in circles, centering himself around Ann. His accelerated thoughts and heightened senses calculated every incoming attack.
He maintained the Wave Blocking stance, striking and slashing whenever an opening appeared.
With Encrid’s spinning motion carving a protective circle, neither the Scalor nor the Bride of Plague could get any closer.
Ann felt as though she were standing in the eye of an amber-colored storm.
"The Bride of Plague’s breath is toxic."
Ann spoke, but no one reacted.
That was because there were no Brides left to worry about. He had already cut them all down before they could spread their poison.
Though she could barely see the battlefield, she still felt the need to speak.
It didn’t take even half a day to exterminate the entire Scalor pack.
The last few tried to feign retreat, pressing their bellies against the ground, slithering stealthily in an attempt to target Ann.
But that, too, was futile. Magrun darted around, stabbing his sword into the ground at random.
Thunk! Thud!
A few remaining beasts twitched as they perished, but that was all.
There weren’t even five of the lizard-like beasts left. That was because Ragna had killed them all.
‘If we’re talking purely about combat strength, those beasts are the bigger threat.’
That was Encrid’s assessment.
The true danger of the Scalor lay in their ability to deceive even a Knight’s senses. They let out eerie Ssssshhh sounds, vibrating the air to distort perception.
They produced no detectable scent, making them difficult to track by smell. No—smell was, in fact, the hardest sense to rely on against them.
They were a beastman’s worst enemy. They could manipulate touch, sound, and scent in subtle ways.
But in the end, all one had to do was confirm their location visually, then slash and stab accordingly.
The faint, tingling sensation at the back of his head told him whenever they got too close.
‘A Knight wouldn’t fall so easily to these things.’
They were nothing more than a nuisance. No additional spells or sorcery had interfered with the fight either.
It was a question that arose only after he had thoroughly enjoyed a long bout of swordplay with his perfect partner.
‘Why did they even attack? Why waste this much force?’
The answer came after the battle ended.
Thunk! Crack!
Ragna impaled the last remaining Scalor through the head, then twisted his wrist.
Skull fragments scattered in every direction, and dark brain matter gushed out along with its blackened blood.
Grida, who had been standing watch, frowned as she noticed something.
"Those bastards..."
Her gaze shifted far beyond the battlefield they had designated for the fight.
They had charged forward to prevent their cavalry from getting dragged into the battle. And yet, in the rear—an unexpected scene awaited.
The Border Guard horses that had carried them this far had been slain, their heads severed, their bodies collapsed onto the ground.
Bright red blood seeped into the black earth, turning it a deep crimson.
"They took all the water and rations."
Magrun confirmed after moving toward the fallen horses.
They hadn’t needed to carry their supplies themselves, everything had been packed into the saddlebags. All of it was now gone.
"Did we get too carried away in the fight?"
Encrid wasn’t the type to despair over mistakes. But that didn’t mean he didn’t reflect on them. So, he replayed the situation with a tactical mindset.
He asked himself a question.
‘Were we too absorbed in the battle?’
And he answered.
‘No.’
This was the enemy’s plan from the beginning. That was why they had used the Scalor and the Bride of Plague. One distorted the senses. The other numbed the nose.
And then—
‘They even risked exposing the presence of a wizard.’
If luck had been on his side when he blocked that fireball, he might have pinpointed the wizard’s location.
‘I could have, if I had pushed harder.’
But pushing harder would have meant putting Ann’s life on the line. If he had stationed Ragna to protect her and moved himself instead, he might have tracked them.
Or he might not have. It was already in the past. Even if a similar situation arose again, he wouldn’t be able to leave her unguarded.
‘They even let us know there was a wizard among them.’
All of that just to kill some horses and steal their water and rations.
‘They’re telling us to turn back.’
That was Encrid’s conclusion.
Otherwise—
‘A wizard shapes the battlefield to their will through repeated spells.’
What if this one was as cunning as Krais?
"The road ahead is impassable for cavalry. This means they aimed for our supplies.”
Grida analyzed the situation as a scout. It wasn’t ideal. But there was no need for concern either. The path ahead was mountainous.
That might be a problem for ordinary people. But not for her. The mountain was filled with food.
The warming season meant plants, berries, and fruits were in abundance. There were animals to hunt. Water could be replenished along the way.
"We push forward."
Encrid came to the same decision. He turned to Ann, eyes filled with unspoken questions. If she wanted to turn back, she only had to say so. Ann clenched her teeth.
Someone with malicious intent was after her. That wasn’t something to be happy about. But she wouldn’t back down. Not now. Not ever.
"I’m a healer. My goal is to cure every disease in the world."
Not to mention—Zaun awaited. One of the reasons her family had been taken from her.
"Alright."
Encrid acknowledged her resolve.
As if the amber liquid’s effect had worn off, the residue on his blade dripped to the ground.
"You’re no Lady now. Next time, just fight."
Ann steadied herself with a pointless remark, an effort to calm her nerves. Encrid reassured her.
"Then next time, I’ll request a black tailcoat."
Ann’s reply was high praise.
"Your Knightly order’s name will never change."
With that, they moved forward.
Thanks to their habit of keeping their weapons on their person at all times, the only things they had lost were blankets, pots, cups, and food supplies.
The blanket could easily be replaced with a hastily wrapped cloak.
Ragna unclasped the cloak from around his waist and handed it to Ann. It was something he rarely wore, finding it cumbersome most of the time.
Luckily, it had been tied to his waist—otherwise, it would have been taken as well.
"Ah, thank you."
Ann folded the cloak in half and wrapped it around herself. Draped in the deep navy fabric, she took a step forward.
"Let’s go."
"Yeah, let’s go."
Grida responded, and Magrun nodded in agreement. It seemed both of them believed something was happening inside Zaun.
If that weren’t the case, then what had all of this been for?
They hadn't even reached the Empire’s territory yet, and yet so much had already happened, it left them both uneasy.
As they began walking again, Encrid, now walking beside Ann, asked her a question.
"What is Panacea and Remedy Omnia?"
"Huh?”
Ann turned her head and blinked.
Even the vast land behind them had been pushed further back, and after passing over several mounds, the group found themselves greeted by a field of grass sprouting beneath their feet.
As they walked across the grass, the terrain steadily began to rise. They had begun their ascent into the mountain range. The increasing number of trees around them confirmed it.
"Where did you hear that?"
Ann asked.
"It’s the same as an Elixir—but Panacea is the term used by the Fairy Tribe. Some scholars claim that if you melt down the Philosopher’s Stone, it serves the same purpose."
Encrid was familiar with the term Elixir. It was the Water of Life, a medicine that was said to cure all diseases.
It often appeared in the tales of bards. Not in historical accounts, but in stories filled with legends and intrigue. Some stories called it the Golden Apple.
Others described it as a potion that constantly moved on its own, even when sealed inside a glass vial. But did it actually exist?
No alchemist on the continent had ever successfully created one.
"Remedy Omnia refers to the concept in alchemy."
Ann continued.
"To put it simply, it means something that takes the form of a cure-all."
"Does such a thing really exist?"
Encrid asked.
Grida, walking beside him, interjected.
"Every time a wandering alchemist claims to have such a potion, it turns out to be nothing but poison. Medicine and poison are often just a hair’s breadth apart, aren’t they?"
Ann turned to look at Grida.
"Do you have knowledge of alchemy? You're right. Even if something is a poison, it can become a medicine if used correctly. And conversely, a medicine can become poison if misused. Some medicines become toxic when taken in excess, while some poisons can be medicinal in small amounts."
"So, what you’re saying is… a potion that cures all diseases might be possible?"
Grida asked in a bored tone.
Encrid remained silent, simply listening.
Ann did not answer immediately.
She walked over the uneven terrain, where tree roots jutted out from the path, and looked ahead at a lone tree standing tall in the distance.
Sweat beaded on her forehead.
She wasn’t particularly weak, and the group had been keeping pace with her in mind, but even so, the journey was exhausting.
‘I should have Ragna carry her soon.’
Encrid thought to himself.
Ann took a few more steps before finally speaking.
"Every alchemist who studies healing dreams of creating an Elixir. I’ve always thought their attempts were foolish."
It was clear—she meant to say that such a thing did not exist.
Ann's talent was extraordinary, even among her peers. The alchemist Laban had both coveted and envied her abilities.
Even though he only shared fragments of his knowledge with her, Ann had quickly surpassed his level in healing techniques.
If there were geniuses in swordsmanship, then there were geniuses in alchemy as well.
Ann herself believed that she had only been lucky, stumbling upon a few realizations that others had overlooked.
But others would call it talent.
And it was precisely because of her talent that she understood—Elixirs were nothing more than myths. A legend, a story that would never become reality.
"But what if we change our perspective?"
"People believe Elixir, Panacea, and Remedy Omnia are names for a medicine, don’t they?"
"Perspective?"
Grida echoed.
Encrid listened attentively.
"What if they’re not the names of a medicine, but rather… a title?"
Ann continued.
Encrid felt something click in his mind.
A shift in perspective. If it wasn’t medicine, then there was no such thing as a Legendary Potion. But…
"It’s my dream."
"Remedy Omnia."
"I aim to be the person who cures all diseases."
A person could exist. That was Ann’s dream. As Encrid listened to her words, something suddenly made sense. For some reason, he felt he had figured out what their enemy wanted.
From a tactical standpoint, by shifting his perspective, he could now see the enemy’s intention.
"I smell water."
Right then, Grida spoke up and led the group forward. Crossing a small hill, they came upon a modest lake. The water was clear, and a steep path stretched beyond it.
The terrain had dipped, forming a natural basin for the water to collect.
There was a slight chill in the air, perhaps indicating that the water came from an underground source. They still had several canteens, so there was no shortage of containers.
However—
"Wait."
Encrid stopped Grida and turned to Ann.
"Can you check if there’s anything wrong with the water?"
"Huh? Oh, yes, of course."
Alchemists were meticulous when it came to the quality of water. That was why so many tea connoisseurs had ties to alchemists. Hadn’t Marcus always said as much?
"If you have an alchemist as a friend, finding clean water is easy. But the best of all is said to be Dawn’s Dew made by fairies."
Ann approached the water source, filled a canteen, and added a few drops of liquid from a small vial.
She always carried a small backpack, filled with reagents she would never allow to spill on her own body.
"Don’t drink this. If you do, toxins will accumulate in your organs. It’s not fatal, but you still shouldn’t drink it."
The enemy’s intention became clear.
"Did they tamper with our supplies knowing this water source was contaminated?"
Magrun murmured.
"Or did they poison it beforehand?"
Grida speculated.
Encrid heard them, but there was no way to confirm.
Whether this water had always been toxic, or whether it had been deliberately poisoned, one thing was certain, the road ahead would not be easy.
This level of contamination wouldn’t be enough to incapacitate those who wielded Will, meaning their enemy’s target was obvious.
Ann.
They didn’t know why. They didn’t even know who their enemy was. But something inside Encrid was starting to boil. What exactly was rising to the surface?
The sheer resolve that—no matter what the enemy wanted—he would never give it to them. And Encrid wasn’t the only one feeling that way.
"These bastards, the way they operate is just..."
Ann’s small lips spat out a sharp, expletive-laced remark, laced with biting sarcasm. It was almost like an expression of admiration. But of course, Ann wasn’t impressed.
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