Enkrid acknowledged that the Ferryman’s trick had a different flavor to it.

But... wasn’t it kind of like getting pushed forward while being told not to waste time enjoying the present?

Or maybe it was a message to accumulate strength through rest?

“Or is it telling me to finish what I’ve put off?”

The Ferryman’s words had merit—but Enkrid interpreted them in his own way. A conclusion surfaced.

“Let’s hunt Balrog.”

The wish of the city of Oara still lingered, carved into his heart.

Then, as if leaping from his mind, a phantom of the Ferryman’s voice burst out—not real, just a projection of his imagination.

“You insane bastard. I told you to stay in the present, not to jump into battle.”

Of course, the real Ferryman probably wouldn’t react much differently.

Enkrid had shown his resolve by the fire. He wasn’t going right this moment—but soon.

Crackle, crackle.

Above the firelight, his determination burned bright.

Just as he had once declared he’d become a knight, now he declared that he’d hunt Balrog.

It didn’t sound like a delusion. After all, every step he’d taken until now was proof of who he was.

Beneath the starry sky, with the fire’s glow and the chirping of insects, moths and the like flitted into the summer night’s warmth.

Lua Gharne’s tongue shot out and snagged a bug.

“Raw things have their own flavor.”

If fairies lived on greens and fruit, Frokk lived on nutrient-rich insects.

“Lua Gharne talks about it so much it just pops into my head automatically.”

Around the fire, under starlight and moonlight, the party sat. All scattered—everyone sitting where they pleased.

Rem was leaning back, lazily spinning his axe with just two fingers. Ragna hugged Sunrise, still sheathed, to his chest.

They were comrades, both unwilling to settle into the calm summer night.

The Mad Order’s camp at the edge of the training ground was quiet as ever.

Those who normally chatted had gone silent, so a serene atmosphere lingered.

Rem chuckled softly as he twirled his axe. Ragna, still holding his sword, yawned loudly.

Maybe he planned to go back to slacking now that they weren’t leaving immediately.

Audin gathered himself as if entering silent prayer, and Teresa hummed a tune.

Rophod and Pell met eyes and gave each other a quiet nod.

Amidst them, Shinar smiled. The sun had long since set—moonlight lingered gently across her face.

That inhuman beauty stirred the air with just a smile.

Having caught Enkrid’s gaze, Shinar softly murmured, half like poetry, half like song:

“If you leave me behind again, the fairy city will chase you—a rare sight to behold.”

Through the warm and quiet air, a dagger of ice flew. It sent chills down his spine.

Even when that so-called legendary alchemist from Zaun had layered voices in his incantations, Enkrid hadn’t felt this much danger.

“This is...”

A threat.

And fairies—they twist the truth, but they don’t lie.

The tone was lovely, but a threat was a threat.

Rophod blinked twice, clearly confused by the gap between her voice and her words. But he quickly pulled himself together and got to the core of it.

“...The city?”

“Thanks to our relocation experience, City Kirheis has gained the skill to sever and move parts of itself.”

Shinar said it plainly, but there was a subtle hint of pride in her voice. Enkrid, as always, tried to read her complex emotions—but also wondered why that would be something to boast about.

Regardless, if he ignored her now, the forest city—led by Woodguard—would literally break off a piece and follow him.

“Come with me,” Enkrid said.

Shinar nodded.

Then, the leopard Ester did a graceful flip in midair and transformed into her human form.

Even seeing it up close, it was hard to believe. Her fur extended into a robe, her pale skin flashed briefly, and then it was covered again.

Only Enkrid, positioned directly in front of her, had seen the full change. Others would’ve just seen the fur shift into a robe across her back.

“Apologies. I’m busy—I can’t come along,” said Kraiss.

“That’s fine,” Enkrid replied.

Kraiss had once complained that if you’re going to do something, give notice.

That’s why Enkrid had called everyone together—though he never really intended to move as a large group.

He wanted to show his resolve to all. And partly... he just acted on a whim.

“At most, maybe three?”

He could guide the way himself, so the number of people needed for the Balrog hunt wouldn’t be many.

Then, his eyes met Kraiss’s.

“...You’re not thinking of bringing me, right?”

You’re not that crazy, are you? Right?

Kraiss asked with his eyes.

Enkrid, annoyed, threw a piece of jerky in his hand.

It was only jerky—but it was being thrown by a knight.

The flying jerky smacked Kraiss in the forehead.

“Argh!”

As Kraiss asked if it left a hole in his forehead, Rem tossed his axe into the air and said:

“I’ll go too.”

Lately, if you had to sum up Rem in one word: frustrated.

If Rem’s assault squad were present, they’d be bowing at Enkrid’s feet, begging him from the bottom of their hearts:

“Please take us.”

“Sunrise burns its wielder if you don’t use it regularly,” Ragna added.

He wasn’t a fairy, so he was absolutely lying.

“If only you were half as honest as your father,” Enkrid muttered.

But Ragna paid him no mind. No matter the excuse, he’d find a way to tag along.

“Is this my first sortie since becoming a knight?” Pell joined in.

“Yeah. Exciting. And the opponent’s Balrog, no less,” Rophod chimed in.

“My place is always by the Lord,” said Audin, sounding more like a sermon.

“And if the Lord now watches over you, brother, who else should go but me?”

Teresa stopped humming and added, “I’ll come too.”

Lua Gharne puffed her cheeks and smiled at everyone’s words. No need to say it—Frokk was definitely going to follow.

Last time, she had stayed «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» behind to reflect on her skills and assist Teresa.

And afterward, she had said it was both regrettable and fun.

“When you come back much later and see how things have changed, it’s amazing and interesting. But the most fun is still watching that transformation up close.”

Frokk lives intoxicated by desire. And ignoring that desire would make her something other than a Frokk.

Of course, Frokk differ in what they desire.

For example, Meelun—now a core figure in the Gilpin Guild—trained regularly but didn’t enjoy the extreme, bone-breaking sort of discipline.

Moderate training.

Moderate sparring.

Moderate satisfaction.

That’s the kind of Frokk Meelun was. And Enkrid respected that.

But Lua Gharne was different. She endured and surpassed harsh training simply because she wanted to watch Enkrid up close.

She didn’t shy away from grueling drills or painful discipline. And from sparring with her before, Enkrid already knew—her skills had improved tremendously.

“Frokk don’t have the concept of knighthood.”

Even so, they’re still called a born warrior race.

Because Frokk have no limits. This was a theory Lua Gharne had recently developed.

Apparently, if a normal Frokk could just peel off one thin layer of what they perceived as their limit, a whole new world would open up.

Abandoning past notions, stepping into a new world—

“That might be the difference between me and those who showed outstanding ability,”

she’d once said, cheeks pale and white.

Anyway, she’d definitely come. Looking around, it became clear—everyone here intended to go.

That hadn’t been part of the plan.

“The standing army at Border Guard is strong. Even without the knight order, it won’t fall that easily. There’s no immediate threat right now. Even if the Empire makes a move, Zaun is practically on our side now. So I believe we can hold off any imperial threat.”

As always, Abnaier spoke with clear, logical structure.

“Still, you never know. What if some hidden cultist suddenly appears with knight-level fighters?” Kraiss asked.

“If we’re just talking possibilities, then anything can happen. But remember all the seeds we’ve scattered so far, Kraiss. We’ve built a secure information highway centered on Border Guard.”

That meant they collected every rumor and whisper that traveled those roads.

In fact, the Gilpin Guild had become a full-fledged information hub just outside Border Guard.

From trivial rumors spreading throughout the city to deeply buried scandals recently surfacing in Naurillia—those two caught on to everything. Only after a few more exchanges between them did Kraiss and Abnaier decide it would be fine for Enkrid and the rest to leave. If Kraiss was the type to be swayed by anxiety, Abnaier was the one to fall into the trap of certainty. Having both of them together meant there were no gaps.

Enkrid nodded.

“Why not go together, then?”

And once the group was settled, he thought back to the demon he had once faced in Oara.

A being born to wield a flame-clad sword and whip in battle. Just remembering it sent a light tremble from his toes upward.

Knight Oara had risked her life to kill just a fragment of that thing. And yet Enkrid wanted to face the original, not just a piece.

To say he wasn’t excited would be a lie.

Rem looked over at Enkrid and said,

“He’s doing that weird smile again.”

Kraiss tilted his head.

“Balrog’s nickname is the God of Combat? That seems misassigned. It fits the captain better.”

Shinar, as always, smiled and said her own piece,

“If not for everyone following along, it would’ve been a nice little getaway for just the two of us.”

So passed that night. Enkrid was planning to leave within two days at most—or so he thought.

That was until Aitri summoned him the next day. When Enkrid headed to the forge, the hammer-wielding madman’s eyes lit up as he said,

“I’ve received good iron.”

That was the very first thing he blurted out—no greeting, nothing.

“...True iron?”

“I used that already. It failed. What I got this time is a rare metal I’ve never seen before.”

Where did it come from? 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

“It was brought in by the Lockfried caravan.”

The forged ingot looked plain at a glance, but Enkrid sensed it. It was the same material as the metal he’d once received.

But this time, it didn’t give off that clear, refreshing aura. Rather—

“It’s been blended.”

He just knew, instinctively. Put negatively, it had been tainted. Put positively, something had been added.

“No matter what I did, nothing came to mind—but the moment I saw this, I hammered for three days straight. I felt it.”

He looked like a young man discovering his first love—or a child tasting a sweet fruit for the first time. His smile said everything.

Excited, Aitri mumbled things Enkrid couldn’t even understand. Then, holding his hammer, he sat down and met Enkrid’s eyes squarely.

Enkrid saw in them a will no less firm than that of any knight.

Aitri spoke.

“Please infuse your Will.”

An engraved weapon was one that bore a knight’s Will.

That’s why it’s called “engraving.”

“I will make your weapon.”

At those words, Enkrid replied and sat across from him.

“You kept your promise.”

Aitri answered flatly,

“Then let’s begin.”

He didn’t even notice when he started smiling, but now he wiped the smile from his face and gripped his hammer. He stepped on the bellows and stoked the forge—the blast of heat filled the entire smithy.

The assistant prepared various tools and stepped outside. Even the Frokk craftsman who made ornaments vacated the space.

“Four hours a day will do.”

That was the time Enkrid needed to stay in the forge and continuously infuse Will.

A sword wasn’t forged overnight. That was why Enkrid had delayed his departure.

He quickly figured out where the metal came from. He had told them to deliver food to the reclusive village, and they had returned with a rare gift.

He hadn’t expected anything in return for saving them—so the way it all came full circle felt almost strange.

Four hours a day. As the hammer clashed with the metal over flames, Enkrid sat and watched—and memories of his past life began to surface.

When had it all started?

“Enkrid, you’re a genius.”

A third-rate mercenary had said that. That was the beginning of everything.

“Why do you even want to become a knight?”

It was a question he had heard countless times.

“Give it up already.”

“Just stop.”

There were countless times he’d been urged to quit.

“Do you think anything will change just because you go?”

He had once raged, desperate to save someone.

“Damn it.”

He had cursed the heavens when he failed.

Even when he acted indifferent on the outside, his heart would often burn with fury within.

Thump—

The sound of hammering echoed through it all. The hammer’s rhythm entangled, twisted, and then scattered his memories.

Enkrid could manipulate Will at will. Compared to some knights who hadn’t trained properly, his level was on another plane.

In Zaun, he had learned both restraint and explosive release. He handled Will freely.

Even still, he could control unrefined Will.

“I’m still lacking, so I’ll need you to do it again and again.”

Aitri asked it as if it were only natural. And Enkrid did just that.

Four hours a day with Aitri. And after that, Enkrid found himself worrying about what might happen after he left—that worry led him to the training grounds.

He suddenly had free time, and he felt like getting involved with training.

Of course, Rem looked at him and said,

“Do you just want to go bully someone, Captain?”

Clemence, who had fallen over, greeted him. Officially, she was the only squire in the Mad Order of Knights.

There were a few others who were at the squire level, but none had been officially chosen.

“Just came to look around for a bit.”

Enkrid said as he looked Clemence over. Her posture wasn’t bad—probably the result of the standing army’s basic training.

Besides, Clemence was also the unofficial drill instructor for the elite guard.

Still, there were things she lacked. Enkrid’s eyes could see clearly what she needed right now.