Marcus, after the late-night report, began with admiration.

"You're always surprising me."

That was his first comment.

"Thanks to you."

He expressed his gratitude, almost out of formality.

How was it that a battalion commander, or now a company commander, bowed his head like that to a mere soldier?

Enkrid, with a calm tone, simply listed the facts, dismissing the idea of anything extraordinary.

That was all.

"I see."

With Marcus’s words of acknowledgment, he left the office.

The rest was up to Marcus, the head of the Border Guard, to handle.

After finishing the report, Enkrid left, only to be followed by the fairy company commander, who approached as though greeting him, but with an uninterested gaze, staring straight ahead.

Her tone was indifferent.

"Tonight, together? You must keep your chastity before the wedding, so we should only hold hands while we sleep."

"I’ll sleep alone. Not even holding hands. In my own tent."

"I see."

Was she really joking?

After parting ways with the fairy company commander, Enkrid returned to his tent, washed off his sweat, and sat on his cot.

Water dripped from his wet hair. As he shook it off, he realized how long his hair had grown.

"Couldn’t even sleep. If you’re going to come, come in full force, damn it."

"Everything is in the will of the Lord. Pray, brothers and sisters."

"What happened?"

"Kyaaa."

"Ugh, if the Black Blade is coming, the situation’s really gone bad, huh."

Everyone chimed in as usual before settling into bed.

Well, not just sleeping. At least not for Enkrid.

He closed his eyes and began reflecting on the earlier fight.

Win or lose, whether he overwhelmed the opponent or not.

Every battle had something to learn. That’s how he had learned, and that’s how he had always been.

This time was no different.

Just because he had literally torn the opponent apart didn’t mean anything had changed.

As he repeated his reflections, he fell asleep, only to dream of ten White Lions charging at him.

But again, he was unshaken. He was ready for them. He was prepared to fight.

In that moment, Enkrid felt a sudden awareness of his own growth.

‘Is it funny?’

What had his battlefield been like before?

It had been a place where he had to fight to survive.

A place where he didn’t step up but stayed in the back to survive.

He had to observe from the rear to stay alive, not stepping forward.

But now?

Even though it was a dream, his heart was racing. After all the training and time spent, what had he truly been seeking?

These thoughts threatened to make his dream twist and distort, but—

Was it because of the ferryman?

Even in a dream, his mind felt oddly sharp and clear.

The strange thing was, Ester had been fighting alongside him, but she wasn’t a leopard anymore.

Her skin, pale to the point of almost white, gleamed, and she wore a black robe, which, despite its color, shimmered.

It looked like high-quality material.

"Is that really you?"

"...In this world, would you mind not acknowledging me?"

What was that supposed to mean?

It was strange that he recognized her face, even though she wasn’t a leopard.

But with that black hair and blue eyes, wouldn’t anyone recognize her?

Since she asked him not to acknowledge her, Enkrid complied. It was a dream, so he ignored it.

‘But, isn’t this my dream?’

He briefly wondered if the person in his head might be the problem.

Soon, the White Lion pack charged again. Ten White Lions, wielding claws and scimitars, attacked, but what started as a bloodthirsty fight soon turned into a dance.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t asked how the Valen-style mercenary swordplay was learned.

At that moment, it didn’t seem important.

Rather...

‘She wanted to die, but suddenly she seems full of a will to live.’

What a strange beast-man. Even her appearance wasn’t typical.

She didn’t look like the usual beast-man.

A dream was a dream, and work was work.

Though the lion appeared, the dream, which was almost absurd, soon blurred and faded away.

When Enkrid opened his eyes, he looked at the ceiling of his tent as he rose.

It was summer, and even though it was early morning, the outside was already bright.

Then, what should he do?

He could start with the isolation technique.

Then, sword training, mixed with periods for focus strengthening.

He wouldn’t forget the blade technique or the sharpening of his senses.

Hadn’t Jaxon said?

“Training is something you do every day. Especially sensory training—it’s cumulative, so don’t miss it.”

That sounded familiar to Audin’s philosophy. The isolation technique probably came from the same thinking.

"Brother, skipping a day and doubling it the next won’t work. That’s just hurting yourself. You do it every day. Every day. Every. Day. Did you hear that, Brother?"

The emphasis was so strong that the words were engraved into Enkrid’s mind.

That didn’t mean training every day was painful. Enkrid accepted it as something that was just part of the process.

Thus, he began his day by inspecting, reflecting, and training.

No matter what had happened the day before, as Enkrid spent another day, Marcus, the leader of the city who had been impressed by Enkrid the night before, was now confirming how thick the face of the one who had eaten the Black Blade’s gold coin really was.

In a way, this, too, was a target of admiration.

***

Dunbakel revealed everything she knew.

Even after being imprisoned, she kept talking.

"Go to a place called the Border Guard and make some noise. That was the order. As for me? I'm half a mercenary now. I don’t know how this all started. But I’m certain that someone in the city is involved."

Marcus didn’t ask who that someone was.

Instead, he called for the nobleman who had bribed his way into the prison. The man came down to the dungeon with his guards, and when asked if he knew anything, his response was simple:

"I don't know anything."

The nobleman frowned for a moment, then spoke again.

"You filthy beast-man, speak properly. Are you really the Black Blade? Do you believe this mercenary nonsense, all for a few gold coins?"

He seemed to get angry. Marcus was stunned by how this man, who had accepted the gold coin, was now speaking to a beast-man this way.

Should he just kill him?

Marcus turned his gaze away from the nobleman.

If he kept looking at him, he might really want to kill him.

But that didn’t mean he was just going to let it go.

How could he just let someone who caused such a mess walk free?

‘I can’t kill him in the city.’

After all, he was a noble. If such a thing happened within the Border Guard, even if it were brushed off for now, it was highly likely to become a problem later.

Whatever excuse they might use.

‘It could become a weakness when working in the capital. No, it will be a problem.’

Thinking about the future, that was something he could not allow.

‘So what should I do?’

Due to his reputation as a war-hungry man, people tended to think he was oblivious to the intrigues of politics, but that was far from the truth.

In fact, for anyone who wished to maintain power within the central nobility, intrigue was a necessity.

Marcus, too, was a politician and had the skill to stab others in the back.

Marcus made up his mind and, after considering the situation, came to a conclusion.

Since he couldn’t act directly here, perhaps he could let the nobleman go for now, but have someone involved who would produce more than enough results when the time came?

‘If I send them together, it seems like they’ll handle it on their own.’

Enkrid, that man.

He hadn’t even been sent on patrol. He was left in the barracks, but still, he had gone out, slaughtered the Black Blade elite, and turned the manticore into a bloody mess, with the cultist’s head missing.

That had happened the previous night.

‘Should I send him with them?’

And if nothing happens? Well, that would be dealt with then.

‘For now, just send them out.’

The Black Blade mercenaries had been up to something. He couldn’t just leave that alone.

Marcus, with a sinister thought in his heart, spoke clearly and straightforwardly.

“Martai has formed an army.”

This was the truth. A bastard who called himself a general in the mercenary city was preparing for war with the Border Guard.

It was still a rumor, known only to a few sharp ears, but the whispers of a city-wide war would spread soon enough.

“And we don’t have the soldiers to support us.”

As Marcus spoke, he took a step to the side.

The light of a torch mounted on the wall illuminated half of his face, casting the other half into shadow.

His face seemed to be pondering the safety of the city.

Martai’s army was clearly superior militarily. Marcus knew that. The nobleman knew that too.

And because they knew that, they were speaking about bringing in the Black Blade mercenaries.

As the commander and the city’s representative, it was natural for him to feel conflicted.

“What do you think about hiring them as mercenaries?”

He didn’t specify who was the subject of the suggestion, but the nobleman’s ears perked up.

He couldn’t openly accept the Black Blade as allies. But hadn’t the bandits also been mercenaries at one point?

So the suggestion was to hire them as mercenaries and use them for this matter.

The nobleman, who had taken gold from the Black Blade, perked up at the suggestion, though he tried not to show it.

His expression remained neutral.

Finally, after waiting for the right moment, the nobleman opened his mouth, though he hesitated, not wanting to seem too eager.

After the failed ambush, everything seemed to fall apart. But no—this might have actually worn down Marcus’s patience. Or maybe not.

‘Hire them as mercenaries, and later, bring them in from within.’

The nobleman had grown from a young man who had used his wits to save his life to an adult who now held power.

The taste of authority had dulled his brain.

He didn’t fully understand the situation. And the guards sent by the Black Blade, who stood nearby, were also complicit.

“I’ve heard that the captured one is a beast-woman named Dunbakel. Fighting her isn’t difficult, but claiming she blocked ten attacks on her own is a lie. Ten? Even I would take time with that. Fighting an ambush at night alone? That mad squad must have been fully mobilized. As for the manticore? I don’t know, but I’d be suspicious of all the rumors.”

The manticore’s corpse had been hidden away by the Gilpin Guild and consumed in secret, leaving only rumors behind.

High-level monsters had high value, and Kraiss had hidden it to sell parts of it, though it also led to misunderstandings.

‘A manticore? Where are these lies coming from?’

It was a common tactic used before wars—a form of deception to inflate the situation. They knew they were at a disadvantage, so they were spinning the story.

It was likely Marcus’s plot.

Since an ambush had happened, why not blow the whole thing out of proportion?

In that sense, it was probably a way to elevate Enkrid.

The nobleman didn’t bother to investigate further.

Neither did the guards sent by the Black Blade.

They knew that Enkrid had changed. They knew the squad under him was capable, but they thought...

‘If we face them head-on...’

It wasn’t about being strong to survive. It was the survivor who was strong.

The guards weren’t sure if they would win, but they were confident they could kill.

They were arrogant.

The nobleman, already picturing a rosy future, was lost in his thoughts, narrow-minded and stuck.

As he pondered, he suddenly turned his gaze to Dunbakel and spoke.

“She doesn’t seem like a very famous mercenary.”

Mercenaries without aliases were usually treated that way.

“Execute her. When should we begin?”

Marcus looked at the nobleman and wondered how this fool had made it this far.

But then again, this was the downside of the frontier. There were few talented people. Rarely any.

It seemed like there were many talents in the barracks now, though.

“Tomorrow would be good. Before marching on Martai.”

He made up an excuse.

The nobleman smiled widely, satisfied.

Marcus, too, was secretly satisfied, though his outward expression remained serious.

The remaining beast-woman, Dunbakel, was silently buried in the shadows.

“Execute her later,” Marcus said.

Her death was merely delayed. That was all she had gained.

***

It all began like this.

"I heard that Martai made some unreasonable demands, have you heard? I think we might need some support from the capital on this one."

It was Venzance. He had the day off, and he came to find Enkrid, casually speaking up.

As he listened to this, Kraiss' dialect slipped out.

"Support? No, it won't come. Let me explain why. Do I need to? Alright, here it goes. A huge war with monsters broke out in the south. It would be fine if it was just monsters attacking, but the greatest nation in the southern border, Rihinstetten, quietly stuck its hand in. It became an issue that now involves the fate of the country. The southern monsters are already pushing their limits, and then Rihinstetten gets involved? Meanwhile, the Border Guard has proven its strength by holding off Azpen, buying us some time. If it's internal conflict, there's no reason for the capital to step in. Even if another group got involved, there are counts like Bentra and Molsen in the west. Normally, we'd request support from the two noble armies, but I don't think that’s going to happen. Bentra is practically Molsen's hunting dog, and Molsen is known to only move if there's a profit for him."

Enkrid was impressed, sitting there, hearing Kraiss figure this all out so effortlessly.

Most of all, he was amazed by how he never stopped talking.

"Doesn't your throat hurt?"

"Huh? What? I’ve even played the lead role in a puppet show before."

It seemed that was an extraordinary talent too.

It wouldn’t be easy to imitate five characters and carry the performance by oneself.

Enkrid had always thought Kraiss took it seriously.

If only Krona were here, he'd probably sell his soul.

"And how many merchants pass through this city? The Border Guard is a fort, but it’s also the most important trading city in northern Naurillia. You just need to listen, and you can hear things. That’s the problem and the core of this whole matter."

Kraiss put his palm to the back of his ear as he spoke.

His tone was so matter-of-fact, but was it really that simple?

People who can predict the future like this are often referred to by two names.

One is a fortune teller, the other a fraud.

Kraiss was neither a fortune teller nor a fraud. He simply had an innate talent for reading the flow of things.

"And then the Black Blade showed up, and the cultists appeared. It’s all bad news. Do you have any plans to leave the Border Guard and transfer to another city? Commander?"

Enkrid didn’t even acknowledge the question.

Even if he left, what about the others?

"Are you seriously saying that? Are you not planning on protecting the city?"

Venzance shouted angrily.

Kraiss wasn’t really serious about his suggestion. Enkrid knew that.

"Yes, yes, we must protect it."

"Then do something if you're going to eat."

Enkrid sided with Venzance.

"I wish I could react like Rem right now. Are you siding with others? Because if you are, I might be a little hurt. Is that the right move?"

It seemed like his puppet show experience wasn’t for nothing; his imitation of a carefree attitude was spot on, sitting with one leg over the other, making a pouty face as he spoke.

"Huh? You want to stick an axe instead of a flower on top of your head, don’t you? That’s what you mean, right?"

The problem was, Rem had just stepped outside, right in front of the barracks.

"...That’s not it."

"Seems like Venzon’s here. Bored?"

Rem had changed Venzance’s name and added another comment. Venzance didn’t even acknowledge it.

At that moment...

"Fiancée, it's a summons."

The fairy company commander spoke from just outside the training grounds, her upper body and face poking out above a small fence.

It seemed like these days, she was appearing more often than the messenger. Why was a company commander moving for a battalion commander’s summons?

"I volunteered because I wanted to see you."

"...Is that so?"

Enkrid was used to the fairy-style humor by now, so he simply let it pass without even smiling.

"King Eyeball, you need some training. Go ahead, I’ll make this guy into an excellent elite soldier while you're gone."

From behind, Rem passed a sort of death sentence to Kraiss.

"Let's go, let's go, Commander! Commander!"

Enkrid muttered a prayer for Kraiss as he turned away.

Rem seemed to be a little frustrated these days, but sometimes, venting like that was probably important.

Squish!

Soon enough, the sound of a pig’s neck being broken echoed from behind, but Enkrid ignored it.

"Murders within the unit are strictly forbidden."

The fairy company commander glanced over her shoulder as she spoke.

"I won't kill him."

Enkrid responded, and after thinking for a moment, the fairy commander said,

"He'll know how to handle it."

Her tone was full of trust.

As they entered the battalion commander’s office, Marcus immediately spoke up.

"I have one mission for you. I’d like you to go as an envoy."

It was before he even saluted. His tone was urgent.

"As an envoy?"

"Well, we need to hire mercenaries. So..."

Envoy and mercenary? Those were words that didn’t fit together.

It sounded like war with Martai was just around the corner.

But was it really a threat?

"Go as an envoy of the Black Blade mercenaries. Ah, not as an envoy in the traditional sense, just as a bodyguard."

Envoy and mercenary were already mismatched terms.

An envoy and bandits?

And a bodyguard?

But why did the battalion commander’s eyes sparkle with such pressure?

There was a sense of anticipation, something filled with expectation, as if stars were embedded in his eyes.

Enkrid found it very strange.