Chapter 162 - It Doesn't Matter If We're Not Welcomed
After dealing with the pack of hyena Beasts, the group found a stream where they washed up and took out some jerky to eat.
Eating, drinking, and washing were crucial—especially on long journeys.
Catching a cold for no reason would only make the journey significantly harder.
"This taste is seriously..."
Finn seemed to be in a slightly better mood.
The power of seasoned jerky was undeniable.
Luagarne ate dried fruits and the edible larvae she had prepared herself.
She also caught and ate a few cicada-like insects.
It wasn't repulsive.
He already knew that was just how Frogs ate.
"Insects make the body strong."
She spoke while chewing on dried larvae.
Border Guard didn't have any facilities catering to Frogs.
Which meant that packed meal was something Luagarne had personally prepared.
As long as she was satisfied with her food, that was enough.
In that sense, Esther also enjoyed the jerky.
She chewed a few times before swallowing and nodded in satisfaction.
Was she really a panther?
At this point, she might as well be considered human.
Everyone filled their waterskins and drank.
The water from the stream was clear and cool.
As they followed the road and crossed a small rise, Enkrid caught an unpleasant scent.
'Blood?'
The stench of death, the battlefield.
The scent of blood and metal— the stench of war.
As they crossed the rise, the source of the scent came into view.
Scattered all around were the corpses of Beasts.
Wolf Beasts, snake Beasts, and even some that had transformed from goats.
There were quite a few of them.
The wounds on their bodies indicated they had been cut, struck, and torn apart.
Among them were corpses that had been completely shredded to pieces.
There were also traces of wild dogs feeding on them.
What were Beasts?
They were animals transformed by the influence of demonic energy or the Demonic Realm.
Carnivorous and highly aggressive creatures were the most susceptible to transformation.
Even so—
'There's too many.'
Just as Finn had angrily pointed out earlier—this land wasn't even a Demonic Realm, so how could there be so many Beasts?
Just counting the corpses strewn around, there were over thirty.
A Demonic Realm was a land no human could set foot in.
It was the origin of both Monsters and Beasts.
Several kingdoms had attempted to subjugate them time and again.
But instead of conquering it, their nations weakened and were eventually devoured by neighboring countries.
At the heart of a Demonic Realm, there was believed to be something that continuously spawned Monsters.
Naturally, if they were near a Demonic Realm, a horde like this would be considered insignificant.
After that, they didn't encounter any more Beasts.
"I'd like to say this is normal..."
Finn muttered.
She had seen the numerous fallen corpses of Beasts along the way.
There had been a few ghouls, but most of them were Beasts.
The number of Beasts far outnumbered Monsters.
After spending nearly twenty days traveling, they finally confirmed the existence of the pioneer village.
Due to the frequent encounters with Monsters and Beasts, they arrived two days late—twenty-two days in total.
It was their destination.
A tall wooden palisade.
A solid wall designed to repel enemy attacks.
There were even two or so watchtowers built on top.
It wasn't a small settlement.
If the country had put effort into supporting this village, then yes, it could be of this scale.
It was a village large enough to resemble a fortress.
"It's big."
Krais gave his impression.
"Yeah."
Finn replied casually as she scanned the surroundings.
As a ranger, she had been irritated along the way, but they had arrived.
That was enough.
Not everything could go perfectly.
Enkrid didn't concern himself with such matters.
He simply walked toward the palisade.
It was a well-constructed defensive structure.
A sign that this pioneer village had received serious military investment.
As Enkrid stepped forward and identified himself, the gate of the palisade soon opened.
A sharp-eyed man in the watchtower twitched his eyebrows.
His expression was extremely unpleasant.
'He looks like he needs a beating.'
That was the kind of face he had.
Even though Enkrid rarely concerned himself with others, that face made him want to start throwing punches.
Once inside, it was clear that both the barriers and the gates were made of thick logs.
It was a sturdy palisade.
Not quite at the level of city walls, but large and tall enough to be comparable.
In the center of the village stood a tall flagpole and a platform, making it obvious that it was the village square.
As they stepped inside, the village chief came out to greet them.
The chief was a young man, roughly the same age as Enkrid.
His face was unremarkable, but his eyes shone with confidence.
"Welcome."
The chief spoke.
However, from his tone, attitude, and gaze, Enkrid could tell—they weren't truly welcome.
Perhaps thanks to his honed intuition and instincts.
Even with a Frog in their group, the chief showed no real hospitality.
"This village is doing just fine on its own."
"We even drove away a large bandit gang nearby."
"Ever heard of the Black Blade? Even they wouldn't dare approach us."
"We appreciate the Frog's presence, and it's nice that a platoon leader has come, but as you can see, this isn't some small village."
"So, you're a platoon leader? You must be good with a sword, then?"
"There's someone in our group who used to lead a mercenary band. You might've heard of him—One-Eyed Glaive. He's now the village's security captain."
To summarize how they were being treated—
"We don't need any interference, we can handle things ourselves. Just look around and leave, and we'll say good things about you. The request? We'll say you did well. The colony? We already took care of it."
This was what they meant.
The ones led by the village chief, likely the core authority and backbone of the village.
There were no extremely old people among them—most were either middle-aged or young adults.
It was their decision.
The unspoken command to stay out of it.
Most of the village workforce seemed to support their stance as well.
Especially the village guards or militia, who were showing something close to outright hostility.
"Let's do that, then."
Enkrid didn't bother forcing them into anything just to secure his command.
It would have been pointless.
A request was a request, work was work, and people were people.
If they wanted to handle it themselves, he would let them.
However, he decided to stay in the village.
At most, a week.
At least, five days.
Just enough to confirm whether the village was truly safe and report back.
In any case, it was their decision, so Enkrid didn't make a big deal out of it.
They had given him a hastily built hut to use as lodging.
Krais had gone out, saying he wanted to look around the village.
Luagarne, meanwhile, asked,
"We're just going to stay like this? Just looking around?"
"I'll spend the time training."
"Even here? Well, I suppose that makes sense."
By now, Luagarne was adapting to the kind of person Enkrid was.
This guy would swing his sword anywhere.
There were plenty of empty spaces near the hut.
Many areas were still under construction.
In one of those open spaces, Enkrid swung his sword.
Whether anyone was watching or not—since when had he ever cared about that?
The fundamentals of swordsmanship, coupled with the sense of evasion.
The things he had been most engrossed in lately.
Everything he had learned flowed naturally through his body.
He swung and swung again, stepping willingly into a world where only the sword remained, forgetting himself entirely.
In that state, Enkrid revisited everything he had learned from Luagarne on the way here.
As Enkrid's sword cut through the air, Krais busied himself exploring the village.
He had expected to be treated like an outsider, but surprisingly, he blended in rather well.
'That's a skill in itself.'
That was what Luagarne thought.
Krais had a knack for reading people and scratching where they itched.
"Want a smoke?"
With a single rolled cigarette, he won favor.
Before long, he was chatting up a burly, bearded man near the quarry.
"You guys are something else. Taking the risk to come all the way here? A frontier village? Now that's a real man's feat."
Just a few words, and he had won them over.
'He's got a silver tongue too.'
There were plenty like him in the kingdom—politicians, nobles living off the nation's resources, bureaucrats.
'He'd fit right in.'
By common sense, this journey should have been brutal and perilous.
Of course, considering the strength of their group, the danger hadn't been that great.
Even so, seeing Krais move so naturally in a new environment was somewhat impressive.
Luagarne turned her gaze to the rest of their group.
Esther, the panther, was perched on the hut's window frame, staring intently at her master.
Finn was inside, catching up on much-needed sleep.
Luagarne had nothing to do.
If she had free time, she might as well help Enkrid with his training.
As she did, old memories surfaced.
Specifically, the so-called 'geniuses' she had mentored.
Every single one of them had been, well, like the offspring of dogs.
Yes.
That was exactly right.
Like dogs.
"I've trained enough, don't you think?"
"I still have more to learn?"
"I have an appointment at the salon this evening."
"No, do you like me or something? I'm not into having some kind of spiritual romance with a Frog, so I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me be."
"This is my limit. I can't go any further."
Geniuses were all the same.
They mastered techniques so quickly that true, grueling training was rare for them.
They never had to push themselves to the brink.
They simply went through the motions, filling training hours.
With bodies that absorbed skills effortlessly, their mental endurance withered away.
A dried-up well.
A sword was ultimately about controlling the body and moving it as one willed.
That was the fundamental requirement.
And these were the ones who had been born with it.
Geniuses who grasped techniques after only a few attempts.
People unfamiliar with struggle.
Brrrr.
Thinking about it made her puff out her cheeks involuntarily.
Then, if the fundamentals were already in place, what was next?
'What else but relentless practice?'
They needed to swing, run, and roll endlessly.
But how many actually did?
Truly, truly rare.
Most of them were damn useless, but…
There had been exceptions.
'Gods aren't fair.'
She wasn't exactly upset, but the memories weren't pleasant.
Her first lover.
A man who never thought about tomorrow and always gave his all to the present.
"Training is fun."
His words came back to her.
Luagarne indulged in nostalgia.
Back then, she had been younger and far more passionate.
Of course, a Frog's desires never wane with age.
They were hedonists, a warrior race that lived by their instincts and cravings.
Her thoughts blurred, and before her stood another man.
Seeing him, she spoke without thinking.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
Snapped out of her reverie, Luagarne asked the question.
Enkrid glanced at her and nodded.
"Yes, I am."
Luagarne saw the man, dripping with sweat.
Black hair, blue eyes.
Different from her former lover.
And yet, his talent was unmistakably different.
Perhaps, if he had lived—if the unfairness of the gods had not lingered upon him.
He might have become a knight.
But the man before her was not that person.
And yet, why did they overlap?
Just memories—faded past recollections, not pleasure but pain.
Luagarne, being a Frog, discarded unpleasant memories.
Living for the present, surrendering to desires, upholding agreements—that was enough.
"Boss, boss."
For a brief moment, as Luagarne indulged in sentimentality, Krais approached, calling for Enkrid.
Once near, Krais spoke.
"This is quite serious, isn't it? A quarry, a training ground, even a barracks in the plans. There's talk of some noble backing it all."
It hadn't even been half a day, yet Krais had already gathered quite a bit of information.
Raising his index finger, he pointed to the sky—signifying that power was involved in this village.
Well, without that, such a scale would be difficult to achieve.
"What about defense?"
Enkrid nodded and asked.
What would happen if a large horde of magical beasts attacked?
The original request was to deal with a colony of such beasts.
The command was granted to utilize the village militia.
But if that was no longer the case—
Could the village handle a colony on its own?
Would they be safe if another incident occurred?
Since he had taken the job, he might as well assess things properly.
A request was a request, work was work, and people were people.
He needed to know what was necessary.
Krais hadn't been aimlessly wandering about.
In fact, he was quite in sync with Enkrid.
With just a glance from Enkrid, Krais had gathered everything he needed.
"They're quite solid. That former mercenary captain seems to have trained them well. I don't claim to be an expert, but at least their discipline is in place. And disciplined troops don't collapse easily. Even the ones up in the watchtower—those eyes of theirs—while their tongues are polite, their gaze is downright murderous."
The watchtower.
Those eyes.
That look.
It wasn't to his liking.
Just a gut feeling—but were they mercenaries who dabbled in banditry as well?
It was possible.
Regardless, there didn't seem to be any major concerns.
That was his conclusion.
So, what was next?
"Well, since things are like this, boss, how about we go treasure hu—"
"Luagarne."
Before Krais could finish, Enkrid called for the Frog.
Snapping out of her reverie, Luagarne rolled her bulging eyes.
"Let's spar."
Dueling, training—sticking to the usual routine.
Already, people had started gathering to watch Enkrid.
An odd one among odd ones.
Even here, he looked like he would swing his sword all day.
"Shall we use wooden swords?"
The Frog asked.
"Krais?"
Instead of answering, Enkrid called out to his quick-witted subordinate.
Even if they weren't the most welcome guests, acquiring two wooden swords shouldn't be an issue.
"You're not actually going treasure hunting, are you?"
Krais countered Enkrid's request, his tone full of genuine concern.
Understandable—this involved Krona, after all.
"I'm leaning towards it."
"...I'll fetch the wooden swords."
Enkrid had a surprisingly devious side, and Krais was well aware of it.
'But he's someone who keeps his word once he says it.'
If Enkrid said he was considering it, then he was already halfway there.
As Krais darted off, a chittering sound came from behind.
Turning, Enkrid saw Esther—the panther—laughing.
Her laughter was quite unique.
"Did you always laugh like that?"
Curious, Enkrid asked.
Feigning dignity, pretending she hadn't been laughing, Esther stretched her neck and turned sideways, resting her head on her front paws.
No answer, then.
Soon, Krais returned with the wooden swords, and the spar began.
There was a reason Luagarne had suggested wooden swords.
"This is a game of strategy."
It was the same method she had once used to train her exceptionally talented lover.
Of course, Enkrid had no idea.
He was too focused on enjoying it.
A new training method, a different swordplay style.
It was fun.
Instead of relying on raw physical ability, it was a refinement of basic techniques.
Where to block and deflect the opponent's strike—
Every move laid the groundwork for the next.
A game of setting traps for victory.
As they slowly clashed wooden swords, building strategies—
"What's that?"
"Are they playing around?"
"What? Royal reinforcements? Isn't this supposed to be work, not a vacation?"
People started talking as they watched.
A rumor spread that someone had come here to play sword-fighting games with a Frog.
Despite the size of the settlement, it was still a pioneer village.
Apart from the militia, the population barely reached two hundred.
Word spread that the platoon leader sent from Border Guard was just a good-for-nothing, bringing along a woman and a Frog.
The Frog was supposedly his bodyguard, the woman his guide, and he even had a big-eyed attendant and a pet.
Enkrid didn't care.
As the troublemakers squad leader, he had endured worse rumors before and never paid them any mind.
"Ugh, even here, you're still swinging that sword?"
Finn, having just woken from a nap, groaned as she saw Enkrid drenched in sweat.