"Odin? Didn't he come first?"
Magrun asked.
It must have been a question that came from the same line of thought as Encrid’s.
Odin was a nickname for Odinkar. He and Magrun were inseparable friends. Magrun’s expression darkened even more.
"You were with him, so why are you asking me?"
Was there anything to be read from the family head’s face or tone? For example, the truth of what he had just said.
‘Impossible.’
Encrid did not believe that this man, like a fairy, was incapable of lying.
Just because he was the family head didn’t mean everything he said had to be true.
But could it be considered a lie?
‘No.’
He couldn’t read anything. That was the honest answer. Since he couldn’t read him, he instinctively tried to uncover whatever was hidden in the family head’s words.
Not being able to read him at all—this was a first.
‘Why?’
He went over what he had perceived through instinct and intuition, running the calculations again in his mind. It was a process that took barely any time. By now, it was second nature.
‘Nothing. I don’t feel anything.’
There was no trace of worry or doubt. The family head’s words carried no emotion.
"I sent him to bring back Ragna, but I see you all had a great time instead."
"Yes, it was quite entertaining to watch. So Odinkar hasn’t come back. Nothing happened to the family, then?"
"It’s the same as always. What could possibly be different?"
To Encrid, it felt like listening to an orchestra playing completely different notes. A discordant mess.
‘Nothing happened to the family.’
But outside, there had been curses blocking the path, an attack by a wizard, and even a sighting of an unusual type of monster.
Grida had also mentioned that these Scalors were creatures never before seen in this area.
"And there have been no problems with travelers in the village?"
The House of Zaun maintained connections with three villages: the Hunters’ Village, the Retirees’ Village, and the Intermediaries' Village. If there had been a problem, those villages would have been affected as well.
"The way you keep asking about problems, I take it something happened on your way here? Magrun’s expression stiffening at the mention of Odinkar’s absence means it must be serious. If it’s something recent, then the only thing of note would be the visit of a few village elders. Hescal was in charge of their escort."
The family head didn’t even seem to acknowledge the presence of Ragna, Encrid, or Ann. A peculiar sense of pressure hung over them, rendering Ann speechless while Encrid focused solely on observing.
‘It’s still hard to read anything from his tone.’
But he could tell that the family head’s keen perception was no joke. Just by noting their expressions and asking a few questions, he had already pieced together the situation and adjusted his answers accordingly.
And then there was Ragna—who, as always, ignored all other concerns.
"I’m here for the Sunrise."
Ragna announced his return like a wayward son. The family head neither reacted with surprise nor confusion.
"You should know how to take it, then."
"Yes, that’s why I came before my father died. It seemed like that was necessary."
To an outsider unaware of the situation, this would seem like a man forsaking his basic human duties. In other words, an act of utter disrespect toward his father.
And yet, here in Zaun, this seemed like a common occurrence. The family head responded without a trace of concern.
"Yes. That’s the right thing to do. You’ve done well to come."
Was that really the right thing to say in this situation?
Even if that thought crossed his mind, Encrid knew better than to intervene. This was a family and household matter.
"You crazy bastard, so this was your goal? When you said you were coming to take something?"
Grida’s reaction was the only normal one. Magrun, too, seemed shocked, muttering, "Then where the hell is Odin?" before turning to Ragna.
It must have been a shocking statement. Encrid, however, remained silent, knowing nothing of the situation. He was too busy observing the family head.
The man stood at the gate, not moving a single finger. Then, at some point, his hand moved to his waist.
Encrid missed that short movement, he had momentarily looked away.
The family head tensed his muscles as if about to move his left hand. Encrid’s innate senses picked up on it immediately.
It was an awareness born from intuition.
"You’ve got good instincts."
The family head spoke as he drew his sword. His movements were seamless, as natural as the wind tousling one’s hair.
Even the sound of the blade being unsheathed was absent.
Before Encrid could react, the sword was already aimed at his forehead. It would have been natural to flinch, but Encrid did not move.
He only reacted when the sword crossed a certain imaginary threshold in his mind.
Ching!
His Three Iron shot up like a flash of light, living up to its name. At the same time, he calculated dozens of possible attack paths for the family head’s sword.
Reading the movements. Analyzing them. Hundreds of potential attacks branched from that single motion.
‘If I try to calculate everything, I’ll tire myself out first.’
The transition to Wave-Blocking Swordsmanship happened in an instant. His Three Iron lunged forward like a flash.
Snap.
The family head had already sheathed his sword.
Encrid twirled his own blade before smoothly sliding it back into its scabbard.
Ting.
Aside from the sound, there was little difference in their movements.
‘I lost.’
Encrid knew it. The family head hadn’t even swung his sword properly, whereas Encrid had.
‘And he had planned for that.’
Would it be different in an actual fight?
His battle spirit flared. Some people cowered before stronger opponents, but Encrid had clawed his way to this point, inch by inch.
Even after becoming a Knight, he had never been intoxicated by his own power. He simply enjoyed the challenge and moved forward.
Fear had no place in him.
"One match?"
Ragna wasn’t the only one ignoring the situation.
Grida and Magrun, understanding the implications of that question, briefly considered kicking these lunatics out.
But the family head merely twisted his lips into something resembling a smile.
Why only resembling? Because there was no emotion behind it.
"You’ve brought an interesting friend, Ragna."
"He’s the captain of the Knight Order I belong to."
"You belong to a Knight Order? And he’s your superior, not you?"
Normally, such words would carry some note of surprise, but his tone remained utterly devoid of emotion.
‘More like his emotions have been stripped away entirely. Still, couldn’t he just accept the match already?’
A man who analyzed and entertained such reckless thoughts at the same time.
"I welcome you. I won’t refuse a duel, but from the looks of it, you’re not in your best condition. Shouldn’t you recover first?"
"This is my best condition."
Encrid replied.
"You crazy bastard, do it later. We need to figure out where Odinkar is first."
Magrun said, and Encrid had no choice but to agree.
That didn’t mean he believed something had happened to Odinkar Zaun. It was a simple matter of logic.
Would it be possible to subdue such a Knight without causing any disturbance? And if there had been a battle where he was either killed or captured—
‘Could there really be no traces left behind?’
That was impossible.
There was no spell or curse that could mend broken trees back to their original state.
"Magic seeks transformation, but that doesn’t mean it can do everything. Miracles—Audin would be more suited for those."
That was something Esther had told him during training.
So then, how had Odinkar vanished? There was only one answer.
‘He disappeared voluntarily.’
With minimal information, Encrid arrived at a logical conclusion.
The others were simply overwhelmed by the chain of events—the attacks, the sudden calm upon reaching Zaun. But anyone looking objectively would reach the same conclusion.
"Come inside and explain the situation. I’d like the guest to join us as well."
The family head turned and walked inside.
It was remarkable how silent his footsteps were, despite his large frame.
‘Jaxon would be surprised to see this.’
Such impeccable, soundless movements.
Not even the slightest clinking sound came from the sword hanging on his sword belt. Whatever he had placed beneath his boots, they barely made any noise against the ground.
When facing him, his presence felt like standing before a mountain.
‘But now, walking behind him, he feels like nothing more than a gentle mountain breeze.’
That thought came naturally as Encrid followed behind him.
"The family head must be strong, right?"
He asked as they walked. Grida, looking troubled, scratched her head roughly before answering.
"One guy comes saying he's here for the Sunrise, another guy just blurts out One match? You’re all out of your damn minds. And what? The family head must be strong? Of course, he is, you idiot. Even three of me wouldn’t stand a chance against him."
Encrid gave a small nod.
If there were three of Grida, he himself would have to fight for real—meaning, he’d have to fight with the intent to kill in order to win.
In a spar, victory and defeat were decided easily, but that was only because Grida didn’t particularly care about winning or losing.
Magrun, on the other hand, hated losing. But if someone were to place a bet on a fight between Magrun and Grida…
‘They’d bet on Grida.’
Now that he had experienced both firsthand, he understood the difference. The reason Magrun had survived after challenging Rem was because of this very difference.
If Rem had truly seen him as a threat, his axe would have split Magrun’s head in two.
"An outsider?"
"It’s been a while."
"Have you seen Hescal? He promised to watch my swordsmanship today, but he ran off to work again. So unfair!"
As they walked, Encrid turned his head occasionally to see the people speaking.
There weren’t many people in this family village, which was settled in a basin-like area.
Fewer than twenty people were in sight along their path.
Among them, one woman stood out.
She was clad in armor made of thick metal plates, covering her forearms, thighs, abdomen, and chest.
‘She’s even bigger than Teresa.’
When their eyes met, the woman tilted her head slightly before grinning.
Humans and giants looked similar aside from their size, but on closer inspection, there were subtle differences.
Giants had larger facial features and exuded a sense of overwhelming presence that humans lacked.
Just as a human could crush an ant with sheer strength at any moment, a giant radiated the same energy, only toward humans.
The ability to crush them at will.
"Wow."
The woman opened her mouth and spoke.
Sensing her gaze, Grida raised her hand in greeting and said to Encrid,
"That’s Anahera, the most beautiful woman in our family, at least among her kind."
Encrid disliked the idea of ranking people by their looks.
But it was common sense that prominent cheekbones and protruding fangs weren’t exactly the conventional standards of beauty.
More than that, the sheer thickness of her neck was probably greater than the average man’s thigh. Her flattened ears did, however, make her appearance somewhat more striking.
"A giant."
Encrid repeated, reaffirming what Grida had just said and what he had observed.
"You’re quick-witted. Not much fun to tease."
Grida seemed a little less worried now that they were meeting with the family head.
It was as if she was leaving it all in the head’s hands.
Though they called it a family village, each house had its own wide clearing.
At the center stood a towering structure resembling a castle. It wasn’t a real castle, more of a mansion.
The family head led them straight to that central mansion.
After listening to Grida and Magrun explain the situation, he spoke without a moment's hesitation.
"I believe he disappeared of his own will."
It was easy to see the truth when you were an outsider, but when the issue was personal, objectivity became difficult. And yet, the family head had arrived at the conclusion so effortlessly.
"But why would Odinkar do that?"
Magrun asked, keeping pace with the family head’s steps.
"I don’t know that either."
The family head answered simply.
"It seems our guest has already figured it out. Why not share?"
"I was planning to explain inside. Or if someone asked, I would have answered."
The family head glanced briefly at Encrid, but Encrid still found it difficult to read anything from his eyes.
‘A personality perfectly suited for hiding things.’
That was Encrid’s assessment as he continued following behind him.
"Who’s here?"
When they reached the front of the mansion, a blonde woman approached.
She wore an apron, but Encrid’s trained eye quickly noticed the two short swords hidden beneath her skirt.
And he could tell she was skilled.
Just by observing her walking posture and the muscles on her exposed arms, it was obvious she was well-trained.
"A guest. And this is my son."
"I do recognize my own son, you know."
She smirked.
"You actually found your way back? I thought you’d be lost and wandering for the rest of your life."
Despite being a mother greeting her son after a long time, her words were devoid of any tearful emotion.
Not even an ant passing by would have shed a tear at the reunion.
Instead, the woman—presumably Ragna’s mother—let out a small scoff as she spoke.
"Finding my way is my specialty."
Ragna replied.
"Sure it is."
His mother lifted her hand as if to welcome him—
Ching.
—but in that hand, she drew a sword.
No, two swords, one in each hand.
Perhaps this was what it meant to raise both hands in welcome.
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