Chapter 585: Because the Vessel Is Different

Enkrid found himself learning something from Seiki’s words—a small, quiet truth about how the world turns.

Just like spring gives way to summer, and summer to autumn, then to winter... there was a natural cycle to all things. That cycle, he realized, was also connected to the rhythm of swordsmanship—and, in some ways, to his own weaknesses.

“What if I stop trying to force Will out of me... and instead, try to feel its flow? Let it build slowly and press outward?”

Where facing the prophet Overdeer had helped him sense the direction, now he’d begun to understand how to actually walk that path.

Still, he didn’t make a big fuss about it.

Some things, after all, can’t be understood until the body experiences them firsthand.

“Go ahead.”

“You supporting me?”

“Yeah. That’s what this is.”

“Thanks.”

That was how their conversation had gone. Enkrid had noticed it then—Seiki wasn’t particularly eloquent. But she never hesitated to speak her heart.

That, in itself, was admirable. Yet in a world that demands interaction, it might also make things difficult.

But here, in Border Guard? She’d be fine.

After all, she wasn’t just the Saintess. She was a Highlander—a natural-born mountain ranger who wanted to live, fight, sleep, and die in the mountains, becoming one with them. And Border Guard was a city where people even crazier and wilder than her made their home.

There was a reason it was called the Mad Knights' base.

“I should probably keep an eye on her now and then.”

Enkrid thought of himself as the one person in the Mad Knights who kept things grounded.

“Everyone else is out of their minds, so I at least need to stay sane.”

When Seiki spoke about her dreams, she shone. And Enkrid didn’t dismiss her words just because she was young.

Anyone who spoke their dreams with sincerity always shone.

And her words didn’t come off as childish. Sure, her hopes might change in time. And if they did—he’d support that too, as long as it came from her heart.

One thing was certain—becoming the Saintess was not her dream.

“I’m not [N O V E L I G H T] exactly fond of dealing with people,” she’d said.

She preferred being alone, no matter what the situation.

Enkrid respected that. He let her be.

Shinar, on the other hand, offered to show her a good place to stay.

As a fairy—child of trees and flowers—Shinar apparently had a habit of creating hidden sanctuaries to live in solitude.

Whether that was true or not didn’t matter. Seiki seemed satisfied, and that was enough.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, Esther suddenly asked, “Popular?”

A follow-up to the nonsense he’d spouted earlier about the “sorrow of the unpopular man.”

“No.”

It was a light, throwaway answer—an easy way to dodge the topic.

Esther spent the next few days shadowing him.

What she was thinking, no one knew.

The only thing that changed was that a few soldiers now followed her around.

They were all members of the Magic Corps. Each held a crystal orb and carried a short wooden rod tucked into their belts—a wand, a tool that aided in magic casting.

The tips of the wands were decorated with small gemstones. Seeing that would’ve probably made Kraiss twitch with irritation—those stones weren’t cheap.

“Shit, it’s freezing. Too damn cold.”

Three days later, Rem returned to the barracks.

Winter hadn’t even arrived yet, but he was already whining about the cold.

He also had minor cuts and scrapes all over him.

“What were you doing out there?”

“Hmm... exorcism?”

Nobody asked further. Rem didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it anyway.

Ragna, in the meantime, hadn’t missed a single session of sword training over the past three days.

Granted, his training consisted of short bursts—morning, noon, and evening.

Relentless, all-day training didn’t suit Ragna.

Still, even with just those short sessions, he’d made noticeable improvements.

Sometimes he sparred with Rophod. Other times, he just sat in half-doze and meditated.

Could someone really get stronger from that?

Apparently, yes.

“Goddamn freak,” Enkrid muttered mid-sparring without realizing he was giving Ragna a compliment.

It was a sword form Enkrid knew—but it had become faster, sharper, heavier.

He couldn’t help but ask:

“How the hell do you even do that?”

“You just swing a little faster and harder when you see the opening,” Ragna replied flatly.

It was like asking how to study well and being told, “Just read the book.”

Ragna had always been bad at explaining things—but now it was getting ridiculous.

And yet... Enkrid couldn’t exactly disagree.

“It’s like the Iron Wall.”

Some things just couldn’t be explained. They simply existed.

While Enkrid advanced slowly, step by step, from the very bottom, Ragna’s progress came in leaps.

That didn’t mean Rem and Ragna weren’t helping him train.

He’d already sparred with both, and they never held back on giving feedback.

“Just put all your power into it in the moment. Can’t do that?”

“When you swing, just focus. Why can’t you do that?”

That’s what Rem and Ragna had each said.

Then Jaxon added his own advice:

“Develop your sense of Will.”

What even is that sense?

Enkrid didn’t ask. He simply listened in silence.

After all, wasn’t it the same when he tried explaining Iron Wall?

Now, though, he found it easier to understand their words.

If he had the right direction, all that was left was to put in the effort.

He had the direction. He was learning how to walk the path.

Now, time would do the rest.

Even if he practiced until death and never advanced, that wasn’t a reason to stop.

Five days passed. Kraiss called for a meeting.

“Church! Risk! Trade! Security! Sabotage!”

Just from the way Kraiss spoke, it was obvious what the meeting would cover.

Enkrid didn’t feel even a shred of guilt about what he’d done. He just saw it as something that had already happened—so he attended the meeting without a second thought.

The atmosphere wasn’t particularly grim. After all, most people living in this city and working with Enkrid weren’t the type to panic over things like this.

Still, some in administrative roles wondered if it was really okay to let this go.

Wouldn’t this eventually pit them against the entire continent?

That concern was present—among a few attendees, at least.

At the oval table, Enkrid sat at the head.

To his left sat Greyham, the aging warrior whose talent had blossomed in his twilight years.

Across from them, for some reason, sat Rem—and next to him, Ragna, who’d said he needed “some fresh air.”

Esther and Lua Gharne, now unofficially dubbed the “Enkrid Observation Duo,” naturally positioned themselves near Enkrid as well.

Not at the table center, but just off to the side, where they had a clear view of him.

“Best seats in the house,” someone remarked.

Then Shinar joined them, completing a lineup of three striking women: human, fairy, and Frokk—sitting in a row, watching Enkrid like researchers observing a specimen.

It was a strange sight—and a stranger habit—but no one said a word against it.

Greyham didn’t even glance their way. But a few others at the meeting couldn’t help but sneak a look.

No one could say anything about it.

Even Enkrid himself didn’t object—so what could anyone else possibly say?

And so, one by one, they gathered.

Greyham and the old lord’s faction.

Kraiss, Nurat, and Abnaier—the administrative core.

Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Shinar—the knight order’s main fighting force.

And now Venzance, newly appointed as the city’s Chief of Security, responsible for public order across Border Guard.

As Enkrid entered the meeting room, Venzance raised a hand to his waist in formal salute and bowed his head.

“You’ve been promoted to battalion commander?” Enkrid asked.

“That’s right,” Venzance replied, wearing a faint smile. A warm, peaceful expression that suggested quiet contentment. Gone was the man once consumed by envy.

Now, he had a wife—pregnant, no less. And with that came concern. Concern for what Enkrid had done.

Where would this all lead?

But Venzance also knew better than anyone that he wasn’t in a position to protest it.

“We will now begin the meeting to prepare for the Church’s response,” Kraiss announced in a clear, firm voice that rang throughout the room.

There weren’t enough seats at the wide oval table—more people were standing than sitting.

It should have felt crowded, yet the room remained calm. The solemn air helped keep things quiet.

Braziers had been set up here and there to combat the chill. Shinar muttered under her breath about being careful with fire, but no one else spoke.

Then Kraiss began.

“The Church is tied to a large number of trade routes. Their affiliated merchants used to distribute food and goods across the continent. But now, those merchants have stopped accepting supplies, and trade cities are subtly rejecting deals.”

The issue was serious, but Kraiss explained it in crisp, precise terms.

Enkrid didn’t waste time. After a brief summary, he spoke.

“What about the Stone Road?”

The Stone Road—Border Guard’s major western trade route.

Leona Lockfried, part of the administrative team, raised her head at the question.

Messing with trade? But hadn’t Border Guard already established its own trade system, separate from the Church? Her expression carried all those questions.

“We’re doing fine without those Church bastards,” Leona said, speaking with respectful formality—even though they were friends, this was an official setting.

She didn’t look the least bit worried.

The Lockfried caravan had always been known for bold, high-risk ventures. And Leona was more daring than any of her predecessors.

That didn’t mean gambling everything blindly—but if she judged something to be worth the risk, she pursued it decisively.

To her, this was an opportunity. If she could establish a trade route via the Stone Road, they wouldn’t have to bow to outside pressure or worry about other trade guilds.

Right now, most other guilds were pulling back, afraid of the Holy Nation’s reaction. That annoyed Leona to no end.

Merchants were supposed to focus on business—not bow to politics and pressure.

That’s why she liked Enkrid’s stance so much.

“Then we’re good.”

That was Enkrid’s way of saying Do as you like.

Leona’s eyes lit up as she nodded.

Pressure on trade routes?

Cities refusing to deal?

A few trade guilds throwing tantrums?

So what?

As long as the roads between the western regions and Border Guard remained stable, there wouldn’t be any real threat to trade.

Was that not obvious?

To Leona, yes. To Enkrid, it might or might not have been—but what was certain was that his perspective had broadened.

Leona couldn’t help but admire that.

He was seeing the problem for what it was and proposing realistic solutions.

This had always been part of Enkrid’s nature. Even though he seemed like a man who only swung a sword and charged forward, he always assessed the situation clearly and found a way through.

He’d faced countless obstacles—barriers that seemed insurmountable, immovable like boulders.

And he had never once given up.

So it was the same now.

Because he didn’t give up, the answer naturally came to him.

He had the will to act—and the power to back it up.

His very nature meant he operated on a different scale.

Kraiss had outlined the potential problems. Enkrid simply confirmed them—and then stated his solution.

The supposed Azpen spy, who might still become an ally, raised his head. The discussion was clearly fascinating to him.

Then Enkrid added a few more lines.

“Am I wrong? If we establish direct trade with the western regions, is there anything we’ll actually lose? Wouldn’t that put the trade cities in a position where they have something to lose instead? Shouldn’t the Lockfried caravan be able to handle that? What do you need? Spears? Swords? People? Or something else entirely?”

Every word made sense. But they weren’t easy words to say.

Because, realistically, if trade stopped, some difficulties would arise.

Still, nothing that couldn’t be solved.

And more importantly—there was someone capable of solving it.

Leona nodded, silently affirming her determination to take this on.

“If I need something, I’ll say so.”

“Good.”

That settled it.

When it came to looking at the big picture and making strategic decisions, Enkrid outshined even Kraiss.

Though of course, it was Kraiss’s role to fine-tune the process and make sure it actually worked.

In fact, much of the meeting’s groundwork had already been laid by Kraiss. Enkrid’s job was to view those pieces from a higher vantage point—and tie them together.

“We’ve also received a letter of protest from the kingdom,” came a cautious voice.

This time, it was the royal envoy from the capital, who had stayed in Border Guard for several days to attend the meeting.

“And?” Enkrid looked over, his voice calm. “Did Crang—the king—blame me directly?”

The envoy turned his gaze toward Enkrid.