"You're acting really childish."
It was Ann. She tilted her head, lifting only one corner of her lips in a twisted smirk. There was a glimmer in her eyes.
Between the rays of the midday sun, the alchemist wore a wicked smile, curling only one side of her mouth. But in truth, it wasn’t malice—it was a facade, a shield to endure the hostility directed at her.
"Did you really think I wouldn't be able to drink water because of this? Seriously?"
Though there was no enemy in sight, Ann spoke as if she were confronting one directly.
"You poor bastard, both in ability and in thought. Did you really believe this would stop me? That I'd back down?"
Was this the desperate struggle of the weak, lashing out in defiance? Or was it the roar of someone who had steeled their resolve?
‘Let’s call it a roar.’
That was how Encrid saw it.
"Tell me, Captain, do you really think I came to the Border Guard alone with nothing but luck?"
At first, that was exactly what he thought. Even Ann herself had admitted she was lucky.
But how could a girl who didn't know how to wield a sword, who had no group to rely on, traverse the continent and reach the Border Guard—a city named for its role as a frontier outpost?
Reaching the far edges of the continent itself was an improbable feat.
‘She must have had some kind of means.’
That was how Ann had always been. Even when she stepped into the training grounds of the Mad Knights, she never came empty-handed.
During her research, she always had a few vials, some medicine, or a ball of chewed-up herbs within reach.
Encrid always kept his sword by his side, even when sleeping. Even if it wasn’t the weapon Eitri had given him, he always carried a blade.
‘For me, it's a sword. For her, it's that bag.’
Ann unfastened the clasp of the bag she carried at her side and across her back. Reaching inside, she pulled out a small, round, blue pill, no bigger than a pinky nail.
"I am both an alchemist and a healer."
Ann spoke as if reciting poetry, her voice carrying a rhythm like that of a bard’s song. With the right melody, it could truly become one. Every syllable fell into place with perfect timing.
She dropped the pill into the canteen filled with contaminated water. In less than a breath, a blue mist rose from the surface before dissipating. Ann lifted the canteen to her lips and drank deeply.
No one stopped her.
Right now, what Ann was doing was no different from Ragna’s swordplay—full of conviction. Even if this path was wrong, she would push forward until it became right. That was the kind of strike she had chosen.
Everyone silently watched Ann’s throat as she swallowed.
"Pwah."
After taking a hearty drink, Ann spoke.
"It's safe to drink. What a pathetic trick."
Agreed.
Encrid accepted the canteen without hesitation. He took a gulp, there was nothing wrong with the taste.
To make it to the Border Guard alone, Ann must have used more than just water purification pills. There must have been medicine to mask her scent from beasts, or drugs to put people to sleep.
"There’s too much to explain."
That was how Ann had ended her explanation.
Encrid didn't press further. He noticed the faint tremble in her hands. Could she feel a sense of relief among Knights?
Facing such hostility and malice, Ann wouldn’t be able to let her guard down so easily. But she wouldn’t go down quietly either.
And if the enemy attacked again, she would make sure they knew she wasn't an easy target. But their opponent had already proven to be anything but ordinary.
"Everyone, halt."
It happened before they had even traveled half a day through the mountain path.
Encrid’s nose caught a sharp, acrid scent.
"Poison mist? It seems to be some kind of spell."
Grida, looking ahead, confirmed.
"Yeah, I see it."
Magrun responded.
Ragna simply stared, uninterested. Their enemy was trying to buy time, and Ragna despised nothing more than that.
A thick, dark green fog spread before them. Encrid observed it and reached a conclusion almost instantly.
"Is there a detour?"
"Yes."
Magrun answered immediately.
Encrid glanced at Ragna, who then turned his back to Ann.
"Get on."
"Okay."
Ann, already prepared for this, climbed onto his back without hesitation. Ragna threw his greatsword, and Encrid caught it.
Since it was a weapon meant to be carried on his back, Ragna couldn’t carry it while giving Ann a ride.
"Increase speed, Magrun."
"Got it."
No further words were needed.
The intended route would have taken them just past a nearby hill, but now their path was extending sideways.
Magrun took the lead, while Grida spread out to the right to maintain distance, ready to detect any further ambushes or traps.
And, of course, there was another trick. The enemy seemed to enjoy nothing but these annoying tactics.
"I can't get my bearings."
Grida stopped suddenly. Before them stood three gnarled trees, twisted together like conjoined twins.
The path had been an endless uphill climb, and now, the increasing density of the trees made it clear, they had entered deep into the mountain.
This was no ordinary road. There was no set path, but since Ragna was carrying Ann, even rough terrain had become navigable.
Magrun had been clearing branches with his sword to make way. Everything had been going smoothly, until now.
Encrid turned to look north but stopped himself.
"This feels like getting lost in a desert."
Even looking at the sky didn’t help. Neither his senses nor his instincts could determine the right direction.
"It’s a hex."
Encrid stated. Grida and Magrun nodded. Ragna, however, tilted his head in confusion.
"You mean you can't tell which way to go? I feel fine."
Grida shook her head in exasperation.
"Brother, it's a curse. It's messing with our sense of direction. Try to understand, even if it's hard for you."
"What nonsense is that? Magrun, isn’t north this way?"
"Yes."
Even as Magrun answered, his eyes were filled with uncertainty.
And why wouldn’t they be? He had heard the stories of Ragna’s ‘legendary’ sense of direction. This was the same man who once got lost while watching the sunrise.
A man who, after setting out on a short errand, only found his way back a month later.
"It’s this way. North."
Ragna said with absolute confidence. From behind him, Ann, still clinging to his back, spoke with a pale face.
"Maybe… you shouldn’t be the one navigating."
Alchemy couldn’t break a hex. A Knight’s instincts couldn’t either. They were thoroughly caught in the trap.
‘So this is what the poison mist was really for.’
Encrid glimpsed into the mind of the sorcerer, whoever was behind this.
‘They used the mist to block our path.’
If they wanted to break through, they'd have to risk poisoning. Ann likely had antidotes, but…
‘They expected us to avoid it.’
The mountains were vast. There were many ways to climb. And their group was composed of Knights—highly mobile.
They had the speed to evade danger rather than confront it.
‘They knew we would dodge the poison.’
And if the group changed course, where would Magrun lead them?
‘The fastest route.’
And that was exactly where the enemy had set up the hex, trapping them in place. Which meant something else was clear.
‘Whoever set this up knows the terrain.’
They were intimately familiar with the routes between Zaun and the continent. In other words, they were from the House of Zaun.
"Not many people pass through here, right?"
Encrid asked, wrapping up his thoughts.
"Do you even have to ask? If you’re not from Zaun, there’s no reason to be here. I never thought the road home would look like this."
Magrun replied, not even bothering to glance in Ragna’s direction. No one here trusted Ragna’s sense of direction. Except Encrid.
"How do you know that way is north?"
Ragna shifted Ann slightly, supporting her weight with one hand while tapping his temple with his fingers.
"Instinct."
"Lead the way."
At Encrid’s words, everyone turned to look at him with expressions of pure shock.
"Are you insane?"
"Hey, are you just giving up here?"
Magrun and Grida spoke in turns, and even Ann, clinging to Ragna’s back, had her pupils shaking.
"What's wrong? Were you poisoned?"
Ann asked.
Encrid didn’t bother offering a comforting excuse to put their worries to rest.
"If we go and find that it's wrong, we'll just turn around and find another path. Or do you want to stay here? For how long? Until the hex wears off?"
Stopping was exactly what their enemy wanted. So they would take the path their opponent least expected.
And hadn't he already wandered through the desert once before, learning from everyone along the way? Learning how to navigate.
"I find my way by looking at the stars."
Ragna had said so himself, but if the stars weren’t visible, he relied on his instincts.
Jaxon had said he followed sounds and scents, and Rem had spoken of desert guides who walked along "wind paths".
Ragna wasn’t exactly one of those guides. But if necessary, he knew how to find his way. Just as he had in Naurillia. Encrid trusted Ragna’s instincts.
"I knew the Captain would trust me. Hand me my sword."
Ragna stretched out his hand. He set Ann down and retrieved his greatsword.
Ann pressed her hands against her trembling thighs, looking at Encrid as if asking if they were really doing this.
Meanwhile, Ragna walked his own path.
Until now, when Magrun and Grida had encountered obstacles—trees in their way or blocked paths—they would find a way around.
Ragna was not that kind of man. The moment he instinctively determined that this was north, he went straight forward.
"That’s a cliff, you crazy bastard!"
Grida shouted, but it was meaningless.
Ragna ignored her completely and swung his greatsword at the trees blocking his path.
Boom!
Massive trees were cleaved apart, falling as they crushed smaller trees, their trunks shattering under the impact.
Some of the smaller trees, seemingly ashamed, exposed their hidden roots from beneath the earth.
"This is north."
And so, he cut through the trees and trudged forward. If a rock blocked him, he leapt over it. If a tree blocked him, he cut it down. That was how they reached a cliff.
And naturally, Ragna simply started sliding down it.
"…We’re going down there?"
Ann asked, her face looking as if someone had splashed blue dye all over it.
"Get on."
Now that the path was open, it was Encrid who carried her this time.
"I feel like my resolve is being chipped away."
Ann muttered in a grim tone from his back.
It sounded like she was having serious doubts.
"As long as we get out of the hex's range, it doesn’t matter whether it’s north or not."
Encrid whispered back.
Their enemy wanted to waste their time here, so they would do the opposite.
Ragna navigated the steep cliffside with ease, using his raw physical abilities. Occasionally, he embedded his greatsword into the rock face to steady himself.
They were Knights.
Falling or tumbling down a mere cliff wasn’t something they needed to worry about.
"Is this really the right way?"
Grida muttered.
As a guide, Grida had always been taught that in moments like this, one should stop and carefully confirm the direction. But that wasn’t an option for these lunatics.
Ragna continued to lead the way in his absurd manner.
By the time the sun had set and darkness had begun consuming their surroundings, they had finally exited the hex’s influence.
They had scaled down an entire cliff, climbed back up a smaller one, cut down more than twenty trees, and crossed a small rocky hill.
Naturally, they had not ended up in the north.
They emerged in the west, which meant they would need to adjust their course slightly.
But even this was impressive.
Had it been anyone else, they would still be wandering in circles, lost in the spell’s influence.
Even Knights would have needed far more time. Ragna’s sheer decisiveness had cut down on unnecessary delays.
"In a way, this is pretty incredible."
Grida admitted, impressed. Ragna nodded, as if it were obvious.
Though, judging by the way he was looking around, he had no idea where they actually were. Just as Magrun was about to reorient them—
"Our original destination was the Hunters' Village, right?"
Encrid asked him.
The House of Zaun had several villages surrounding it.
The Hunters' Village was one, alongside the Retirees' Village and the Intermediaries' Village—three in total.
Their original destination was the Hunters' Village, located to the south. It wasn’t the fastest route to Zaun, but it was the natural path.
"Yeah."
Magrun confirmed. Without hesitation, Encrid asked his next question.
"Is there a more direct route to Zaun?"
If he were a wizard or a hex master, he would have set similar traps ahead. As many as possible.
If their enemy had ample time to prepare, there could be dozens of such traps. So why take that path?
Given the poison mist and the hex they had just encountered, it was clear, Odinakar hadn’t passed through that area.
If Odinakar had come this way first, then the mist and hex would have already been triggered and dissipated. Nothing in the world was truly perfect.
Neither spells nor hexes. If they were triggered, they would have disappeared after some time.
Both the poison mist and the direction-distorting hex were potent spells—too powerful to be maintained indefinitely.
Which meant—
"Let’s change our route."
By shifting their path, they could break free from their enemy’s predictions.
At Encrid’s decision, Magrun glanced at Ann.
"The terrain might be too rough for her if we go that way."
The issue wasn’t the one carrying Ann, it was whether she could endure being carried through such rough terrain.
Ann answered for herself.
"If I take a sleeping drug, I won’t wake up, and Ragna can tie me securely to his back."
Her determination was unwavering.
"That settles it."
Encrid shrugged.
With that, their destination and route shifted slightly. Ragna finally stopped scanning the surroundings and spoke.
"A slight detour."
Slight? If this was a slight detour, then if they took an even bigger one, wouldn’t they end up in Rihinstetten in the south instead of Zaun?!
Magrun nearly cursed out loud but held his tongue. After all, they had made it through.
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