When he woke up in the morning, Enkrid trained with Audin in the Isolation Technique. Afterward, he slowly swung his sword, meticulously controlling every muscle movement, before continuing his sparring sessions with Rem.
Between sessions, he made sure to eat his meals, sometimes snacking on herbal pies.
Given the sheer amount of physical activity, his eating and... other bodily functions were naturally just as intense.
Eating in large amounts was a given.
Outside of eating, sleeping, and relieving himself, Enkrid pushed his body to the limit like a madman.
The moment his body fully recovered, the first thing he did was break apart his barracks.
And after that?
Knowing how to observe himself, he pondered once again and resumed his relentless training.
Kraiss had indeed pulled some stringsâno one else had come looking for him.
That was a welcome relief.
So much so that he had even declared he would no longer be accepting tribute from the Gilpin Guild.
But then, someone had insisted on meeting him.
When he stepped out of the barracks, an unexpected face greeted him.
"Did you get even more handsome?"
A muttered remark, accompanied by a smile.
That smile, that faceâit was familiar.
Leona Lockfried.
The owner of a trade caravan and, once upon a time, a companion who had shared a night of conversation with him.
As Enkrid silently observed her, Leona smiled and asked,
"Surely, you havenât forgotten my name?"
"Thereâs no way Iâd forget."
She was certainly a memorable person.
Back then, she had asked if they could be friends.
A curious proposition, coming from a woman who had overthrown the previous caravan leaderâs son and taken over the trade business for herself.
That night, they had eaten herbal pies, sipped on pumpkin soup, and strolled through the market together.
They had stayed up all night, exchanging jokes and talking about anything and everything.
But just because someone suggested friendship didnât mean they immediately became close.
Still, a fondness had lingered.
A fondness that had nothing to do with romanceâsimply a human connection.
Now standing before him as the leader of her caravan, Leona wore sleek leather pants, a white shirt, and a fur-lined vest.
Her shirt was made from a material unlike anything Enkrid had seen before.
And the first thought that crossed his mind?
That fabric, if woven thicker, would make for excellent gambeson lining.
It was only natural for someone like him to think about battle, combat, and swords at all times.
Regardless, the two stood face to face in front of the barracks.
Kraiss, observing the scene, muttered,
"Where exactly does she see the handsomeness?"
Enkrid hadnât shaved, his body was drenched in sweat, and he hadnât even bothered to wash.
His hair, long overdue for a trim, was unkempt and damp with sweat, partially dried in uneven patches.
In other wordsâhe looked utterly disheveled.
Kraiss wrinkled his nose.
To make matters worse, Enkrid didnât exactly smell pleasant either.
In Kraissâs mind, seduction wasnât about having a handsome face.
The most important thing was atmosphere.
Even the most conventionally attractive man, with large eyes, a straight nose, and full lips, couldnât outshine someone with the right aura.
And what created that aura?
It was a combination of factors.
"Scent, gaze, demeanor, appearance, a well-trained body."
Of course, looks mattered, but they werenât everything.
That was how Kraiss saw it.
So, did Enkrid currently exude an irresistible allure for women?
If he were a swordman obsessed with duels, maybe.
But right now? Absolutely not.
The idea of him having a demonic charm was downright laughable.
"You really should wash up first."
"Waste of time."
Enkrid didnât even bother turning his head as he replied.
His mind was occupied with memories, revisiting past experiences.
To say he had no time to turn his head would be more accurate.
"A single night of rest."
There had been no signals of romance, no physical intimacy.
Just conversation.
Rest.
And what had Enkrid gained from that moment of respite?
It was something he could never forget.
A sense of awareness.
He had reexamined the trajectory of his sword swings, the placement of his feet before striking, the movement of his shoulders.
And then, he had learned how to swiftly connect those points into a single line.
It was during that time that he had grasped a fragment of what it meant to be fast.
But what he had acquired wasnât the important part.
It was the process that mattered.
Recalling that process brought back the sensation he had felt back then.
Not that he intended to act on it immediately.
This was merely about making slight adjustments to refine his path.
He was already on the right trackâthis was just an extra nudge in the right direction.
So, for now, he decided to focus on greeting an old friend he hadnât seen in a long time.
"You really have changed."
Leona, staring directly into Enkridâs eyes, spoke.
She was the leader of a trade caravan.
Naturally, she had an exceptional ability to read people.
Her comment about him looking better had been half in jest, half in earnest.
It wasnât about his appearance.
His atmosphere was different.
"Strange."
He had changed.
It was hard to put into words.
Leona could only feel it.
A womanâs intuition, as well as the instincts of a merchant.
Then again, he had changed enough to achieve great feats and make a name for himself.
In the capital, in neighboring citiesâthere wasnât a place where Enkridâs name wasnât known.
"Have I gotten more wrinkles?"
Enkrid quipped casually.
"Youâre just saying that to tease me, arenât you?"
Leona shot back.
The two exchanged amused glances.
Should they go somewhere for tea?
Just as Enkrid had the thought, Kraiss made a gesture, and a few soldiers hurried over with a table and chairs.
The level of preparation was almost comical.
Enkrid had sharp instincts.
If Kraiss had specifically called him out here, there had to be a reason.
"You canât exactly keep standing while chatting. The captain is busy, after all."
Kraiss mimicked a sword swing with both hands as he spoke.
Leona knew full well how obsessed with training Enkrid was.
Back when there had been issues with her caravan in Border Guard, hadnât he suddenly started sparring in the middle of it all?
Later on, she had even taken the time to watch his training.
Enkrid shot Kraiss a sideways glance.
That King Eyeball bastard was definitely up to something.
Leona, unconcerned, took a seat in the chair the soldiers had prepared.
Her eyes remained fixed on Enkrid.
Behind her stood Mathis, the bodyguard she had with her last time.
And another man.
A strikingly handsome figure with blond hair and blue eyes.
From Kraissâs perspective, this man knew how to create an appealing atmosphere.
He curled his lips into a smooth, charming smile and stood at ease behind Leona.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Would you believe me if I said I came to see a friend?"
"Hardly."
"You got me."
Leona smiled.
"Itâs business with the caravan. But itâs always nice to see a friend along the way, isnât it?"
Enkrid smiled in return.
It wasnât a bad meeting at all.
That said, the tea was awful.
It was the kind of tea served when you wanted to get rid of visitors.
A subtle way of saying, drink this quickly and leave.
"On purpose?"
Of course.
Kraissâs intentions were painfully obvious.
The way he pretended not to notice when their eyes briefly met was infuriatingly smug.
Enkrid refocused on Leona.
They exchanged a few words about business.
"Itâs honestly amazing. You do realize how famous you are now, right? I knew this would happen. I shouldâve dragged you into the caravan when I had the chance."
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
"Do caravans need swordsmen that often?"
"Of course. Weâre not a settled trade group, after all."
Enkrid listened.
It was an interesting topic.
But there was more to it.
And both of them knew it.
"So, are you married?"
"Iâm not."
"And that pixie?"
Leona whispered playfully.
"People like to joke about her being my fiancée."
"Tch. Boring."
"And what about you, Leona?"
"Iâm already engagedâto my caravan."
"Is that so?"
"Itâs a lie."
Leona chuckled.
"I do have a fiancĂ©, but Iâm not sure about it yet. Itâs more of a political arrangement, and if things go well elsewhere, I might not go through with it. But donât get any ideas, Enki. Iâm not about to start flirting with you. If I get rejected once, thatâs the end of it for me. So, youâd better regret not falling for my charms back then."
"Sure. Iâll regret it every now and then."
"Regret is something you should suffer through constantly, not just every now and then."
"Iâm busy."
"Swinging that sword of yours?"
"You know me well."
As the teasing continued, both of them laughed.
For a moment, Enkrid felt like he was a child again.
Leona had a way of making people feel at ease.
Was that a talent she had as a merchant, or was it just her natural way of showing consideration for others?
It didnât really matter.
Right now, all that mattered was that he was enjoying the moment.
As they exchanged a few more words, Kraiss suddenly cut in.
"A political marriage? Thatâs absurd."
Here?
Now?
"Ah, exactly. I keep telling you, I donât really want it."
"Thatâs what Iâm saying. Captain, donât you agree?"
"...About what?"
Kraiss kicked Enkridâs foot under the table.
Then, as if parched, he theatrically took a sip of the tea.
This, despite being the very same Kraiss who had sworn he would never drink it, calling it literal shit water.
Enkrid got the picture.
A relationship built on necessity.
That was what this was.
Kraiss and Leonaâs situation.
There was a reason that awful tea had been served.
It was to signal what kind of meeting this was.
Lockfried needed a settlement.
Border Guard needed a shield against external nuisances.
Their interests aligned.
Enkrid smirked.
What a conniving bastard.
It was now obvious why he had been summoned here.
This was a classic case of using charm and personal connections to gain leverage.
See? Your friend is here. Are you really going to refuse?
It was a dirty move.
Kraiss only ever acted like this for one reason.
"How much were you promised?"
Enkrid asked, cutting straight to the point.
There had to have been a deal with the lord.
He had seen through everything.
But Kraiss didnât flinch.
When gold was on the line, he could be an exceptional actor, a master impersonator, and a dazzling storyteller.
"What are you talking about?"
"She came here as a friend."
If Kraiss wanted to use friendship to gain an upper hand, he had to rememberâEnkrid was also Leonaâs friend.
"Youâre making baseless accusations..."
"Oh, itâs fine."
Surprisingly, Leona sided with Enkrid.
To him, her words sounded like: I wonât be fooled by petty tricks, but I also wonât stoop to using them myself.
"Iâm leaving."
Enkrid stood up.
From this point on, this wasnât his problem.
"See you next time."
Leona smiled and raised her hand in a casual farewell.
Enkrid took it, bringing the back of her hand to his lips before turning away.
A proper, formal gesture.
He had heard and learned about such etiquette in various places.
Even as a former mercenary, he had once earned gold escorting noblewomen at banquets.
"This really is a damn salon."
Kraiss muttered.
As Enkrid turned to leave, someone else stopped him.
"Youâwait."
It was Mathis.
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his surprise was evident.
He had heard the rumors but found them hard to believe.
He had seen Enkrid before.
And now, hearing that this man had become so famous?
He had thought it was half-exaggeration, half-lie.
But looking at him now, his composure was undeniable.
If his eyes werenât deceiving him, this man was the real deal.
"Do you have time for a duel?"
Mathis asked.
Enkrid had stepped out in the middle of training.
At his waist hung three swordsâhis gladius, his silver-bladed longsword, and Flicker.
"Whenever youâre ready."
There was no rejection.
Leona didnât try to stop it either.
She knew Mathis well.
If he had stepped forward before she could say anything, it meant something had ignited within him.
Ping.
Their swords left their scabbards.
For a moment, they studied each other.
Then, as if on cue, their blades met in the center.
A clean clash.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Three times, their swords tested each otherâs weight and movement.
It was an unspoken courtesy in a duelâto give the opponent time to warm up.
Right after the third exchange, Mathis committed.
He slashed with full intent.
He was a city-level warrior, someone who knew how to make his presence known.
"City-level warrior? Bullshit. A sword to the gut kills everyone just the same."
Rem scoffed from the sidelines.
Still, there was no denying that Mathis was a recognized powerhouse.
But even soâ
Ping.
The moment their blades touched, Mathis realizedâ
His opponent wasnât slower than him.
He tried to press down with his blade.
His style combined heavy and fluid swordplay to suppress his opponentâs weapon.
But before he could execute itâ
Enkridâs sword had already flicked his aside and thrust forward.
A seamless motion, simultaneously deflecting and attacking.
A serpentâs strike.
A feint so refined that the blade seemed to curve like a real snake.
Mathis stared at the silver-glowing blade hovering just before his throat.
Not only had Enkrid barely exerted himselfâ
His swordsmanship was also at a level far beyond his own.
"Hah."
A bitter chuckle escaped Mathis.
Compared to the man he had once seenâthis was a completely different person.
The difference in skill was unmistakable.
Even if he hadnât let his guard down, he would have lost all the same.
"Well then."
Enkrid wasnât one to comfort a defeated opponent.
He simply turned away.
At the same time, he knew Mathis would rise again.
He wasnât a knight.
He was a warrior serving the caravan.
He would know what his duty was and act accordingly.
Behind him, Kraiss had already begun the negotiations.
Hearing his words, Enkrid smirked.
"That bastard."
Now he saw exactly what Kraiss had been after.
"Alright, now that weâve settled what Border Guard will provide and what we expect from you..."
Kraiss had never intended for this deal to drag on.
By dragging Enkrid into the meeting, he had forced Leona to reveal her hand.
Otherwise, neither of them would be able to face Enkrid again, so they had to act in good faith.
He had been summoned to play referee.
That scheming mind of his...
It really might be the best on the continent.
No wonder he could handle so many different affairs without a hitch.
Afterward, the Lockfried Caravan set up their trading post in Border Guard.
Naturally, local merchants resisted.
But the caravan held firm, conceding where necessary and eliminating threats where needed.
It only took a month to establish themselves.
And in that timeâ
Enkrid swung his sword.
Every single day.
As if reliving the same moment over and over.
He could do it without feeling like he was progressing.
But nowâhe felt himself improving.
The past month hadnât been wasted.
"Having fun?"
During a sparring session, Rem asked.
Enkrid smirked.
"Obviously."
If he werenât enjoying it, how could he keep going like this?
Rem admitted it then.
Their captain was truly insane.
Not long ago, he had nearly been sent to the afterlife by her axe.
Even the Ferry Captain, watching it all unfold, couldnât help but praise him for the third time.
"What the hell is inside that head of yours?"
It was a rhetorical question.
After all, what else could be in the mind of a man who only swung his sword for a month straight?
The answer was already clear.