Normally, a knight did not often serve as someone’s personal bodyguard. For them, remaining still was itself a loss to national strength. Generally, it was far more profitable for a knight to guard the border or deal with the countless dangers scattered across the continent. This was why the Red Cloak Order of Knights could not easily leave the southern border. Of course, there were those who lived as they pleased, but across the entire continent, knights could hardly be called numerous.

Therefore, the Captain of the Royal Guard could not have accounted for a case like this. He had nothing more to say—but still resisted until the end.

“You cannot build a wall with just one hand.”

Crang brushed aside that resistance without much care.

“Yeah. But this is different. All that needs guarding now is me.”

“A man has two eyes.”

Enkrid thought the Captain of the Royal Guard was right. Detecting danger was one thing, but preventing it from happening in the first place required no small amount of effort. That was not something even a knight could manage alone. After all, personal bodyguards were by definition bound to remain within a fixed radius around their charge.

Enkrid himself had served as a bodyguard more than a few times. He knew.

“Then are you saying that an attack beyond a knight’s awareness could occur even within the capital?”

Crang suddenly asked. With that confident tone, the Captain of the Royal Guard knew he was being drawn in, yet still answered.

“It is my duty to guard against the one-in-a-thousand chance.”

“Then I should say this. My duty is to rule so that the one-in-a-thousand chance does not come to pass.”

He had resolved the security around the capital and devoted effort to maintaining order. Even with all he had done, was there still danger? Of course there was. No matter what one did, all danger could never be eliminated. Human work could be complete, but never perfect. That was how the world worked.

And besides, a trade route had recently been opened running through Naurillia, drawing in a swarm of giants, fairies, dwarves, Frokk, beastmen, and others into the capital. On top of that came Westerners, Southerners, and even envoys of the Empire from time to time.

‘It’s unreasonable.’

‘Unreasonable.’

‘Unreasonable.’

Enkrid, Marcus, Matthew, and even the Captain of the Royal Guard all knew Crang’s words were unreasonable. But light shone from him as he spoke. With the sun rising behind his back, his figure cast a long shadow across the ground, as if even that shadow carried his conviction. Crang continued in the same confident tone.

“So set your worries aside. And even if I die, the kingdom does not end. Naurillia is not weak anymore.”

The Captain, half resigned, still insisted.

“My duty is to protect you.”

“I know that too.”

Crang spoke with a smile, as if asking for a concession. With that, the Captain of the Royal Guard withdrew, and Enkrid was able to take Crang out of the inner citadel. They left quietly on foot, and as they walked, Enkrid brought up what had just happened.

“That was unreasonable.”

Crang nodded at once. He did not seem inclined to deny it, nor did he seem embarrassed.

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Well, I should explain it all right now, but you seem like the type who’ll understand without me saying it. So I won’t.”

He’d gained the knack of persuading people with sophistry in the time Enkrid hadn’t seen him. Enkrid nodded as if to say fine.

Crang added, “If necessary, even a king must take risks. And what I want now is a secret inspection.”

A secret inspection meant the king would hide his identity and observe the lives of those in the capital. If he brought along a large escort, he would stand out, and the very meaning of discreet observation would be lost.

But was that really necessary? At this point in time? No. But yes. From a normal perspective, a secret inspection was sudden and pointless, but Enkrid knew Crang would not do something entirely meaningless. Unless he explained, it would be hard to guess the reason—but by instinct and intuition, Enkrid could tell there was something Crang was aiming for.

“Still recovering, aren’t you?” Crang asked.

“My arms still need rest.”

“You call it rest, but you beat down Aisia and the soldiers like that?”

“That was rehabilitation training.”

Enkrid had meant it sincerely, but Crang must have taken it as a joke, because he laughed brightly.

And for all this talk of a secret inspection, the only thing Crang had done was tilt a hood with a pointed brim over his head. He had made no effort to actually hide his face.

“Not going to cover your face?”

“How many people in the capital do you think would even recognize their king? You can count them on one hand.”

To Enkrid, it looked as though Crang wanted someone to notice him. He also seemed strangely pleased that he was not yet in perfect condition due to his injuries.

‘What are you after?’

If Enkrid thought it through, he could probably figure it out.

‘He calls it a secret inspection, yet he doesn’t bother to hide his face.’

‘He sees my injuries and nods, satisfied.’

‘He deliberately dismissed his escort.’

‘And he said there was some ominous air drifting through the capital.’

Was he trying to use himself as bait to draw out enemies? But would that work? If the people learned that the king had been attacked, would that be a political gain?

‘Sounds more like a loss.’

The capital’s security, the sweeping away of surrounding monsters, beastmen, and bandits—all of that had created the stability from which Naurillia’s prosperity now grew. Was there really any need to let the people know there were blades aimed at the king? Even if there was, did it have to be shown so openly, rather than spread quietly as rumor?

“Look.”

Lost in thought, Enkrid turned his eyes where Crang pointed. Ahead stretched a road paved with white stones, still sparsely traveled. The stones formed a distinct path.

“These are the four roads that run through the capital. This one is the White Road leading to the inner citadel.”

Walking across it, Enkrid heard the crunch of white sand. Crang spoke again.

“They cut white stone and laid it here.”

The path was neatly divided, separating carriageways from pedestrian lanes. It was one of Naurillia’s public works projects—roads built so people could travel safely, with carriages carrying passengers at scheduled times. And amidst the city’s complexity, this road would help people avoid getting lost.

‘Similar to the Border Guard’s work.’

Kraiss was overseeing a similar project.

“And see that?”

Enkrid followed Crang’s finger to a round-roofed warehouse. What set it apart was that its roof looked metallic, glinting silver in the sunlight as though waves of light ran across its surface.

“Low-grade tin can’t be used properly, so they wrapped it around the exterior and fitted Spell Objects inside that infuse cold air.”

Maintaining cold with Spell Objects cost a lot of krona. This device was designed to keep it running near permanently. The outer tin was a magical metal, and formulas were inscribed on it so cold air would endlessly circulate within.

Of course, Enkrid didn’t know the details. Esther might have called it an amusing contraption if she’d seen it.

“The state funded it, then leased it out to various businesses. Made quite a bit of krona.”

He didn’t sound boastful. He was simply pointing it out since they were already in the city. But right now, he did look excited. Like a friend bragging about his own work.

Though a king, Crang was also a fine guide.

There were also streets where no carriages were allowed because merchants crowded them, and outer roads built so those in a hurry could pass through quickly.

Later, they bought candied apples and walked side by side, chewing noisily. Suddenly, Enkrid’s senses sharpened to an extreme, and the world seemed to slow around him. Why? When the five senses converged, they stirred the sixth. Even without knowing why, danger was felt.

Biting the apple, he stretched out a hand, fingers opening and closing. A simple movement, but so fast that ordinary eyes could barely follow it.

Something landed in his palm.

Tak! Tremble.

An arrow shaft quivered in his grip. It was not fired with ordinary force. Nor was it just one.

Three arrows came in succession. Enkrid’s hands whipped through the air, snatching them as if from nothing.

Tak, tak, tak—tremble.

Four arrows were caught.

He might still be injured, but training was second nature. This much was nothing. Enkrid’s gaze spread wide across the buildings.

‘Skilled assassins.’

Otherwise they wouldn’t have loosed and immediately shifted positions. Rooftops, windows, market alleys—rats hiding in the shadows, their killing intent aimed this way. There were many assassins.

Enkrid stepped in front of Crang, shielding him with his body. He could block arrows like these all night. Or snatch them from the air.

“...You blocked them all.”

Crang spoke from behind him, his tone surprised, but the surprise was peculiar. Less amazement at Enkrid’s skill, more at events unfolding exactly—or not exactly—as he had hoped.

“There ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) are plenty.”

Enkrid’s voice was calm. Arrows, javelins—it was all the same. Attacks like this could be stopped even by a half-trained knight. Though not with the casual ease of snatching them like a child’s wrist.

This alone was enough to crush the assassins’ will, but they did not relent. Two more arrows flew, different from the first.

Enkrid’s mind accelerated, tracing their lines.

‘One reeks acrid.’

‘The other stings sharp.’

Arrows coated with spells. And the response? If struck midair, they would burst, spreading the effect. The best way was to step forward, cut them, and absorb the impact. Which was exactly what the enemy wanted.

‘If I evade, the remaining arrows will fly at him.’

So the answer was to stay put and deflect them.

Enkrid did just that. The first, with the acrid smell, was a scroll bound tight at its head. If it stopped, it would explode instantly. So he didn’t stop it. Treating it like the thrust of a veteran’s spear, he tapped it lightly with the back of his hand. Its trajectory veered. The arrow that would have struck Crang’s head sailed past above him.

The next arrow was the same. This one would have released a poison cloud, but Enkrid’s flick sent it spinning away. The first burst high above the buildings with a boom, the second in the market alley with a hiss, spreading green fog.

Some of the assassins involuntarily gaped.

What did I just see?

Snatching arrows was shocking enough—but to swat aside a spell-bound shaft with a mere hand gesture? It looked as though he had waved his palm to conjure wind and deflect it.

Enkrid shook out his hand, unconcerned. The arrowhead had grazed him, leaving only a red mark, no cut. At the last instant, he had drawn Will to armor his flesh, preventing the blade from piercing skin.

“Sharp.”

He remarked calmly.

He didn’t bother glaring at the hiding places. He still couldn’t leave his spot—he had to guard Crang. Which meant, if arrows kept flying from afar, all he could do was block. The defender was always at a disadvantage.

The assassins, all of them, fixed their sights on Enkrid and raised their hands to attack again. But Enkrid opened his mouth.

“I didn’t come alone.”

The art of hiding in shadows was not theirs alone.