Chapter 556 - Strolling Through the City

Why was the Lunatic Knight Order called the Lunatic Knight Order?

The question came from a traveling merchant, and his companion answered at once.

"Because there are actual lunatics in it."

"Is it safe to say things like that?"

"Well, everyone’s heard the stories by now."

The two peddlers were chatting at the entrance to the market in central Border Guard, where the crowds were beginning to gather. The thin-lipped, more loose-tongued one did most of the talking.

From what they were saying, one might have wondered whether these bastards were half mad themselves. But none of it was any great secret. The stories had already spread everywhere. Besides, the people in question weren’t standing before them. Wasn’t it human nature to curse even a king behind his back?

"Might I hear more about that?"

The sudden new voice made the merchant tense and hunch his shoulders. Then he saw its owner and frowned.

A blind, white-haired old man had approached without his noticing. His back was slightly stooped, his face lined with wrinkles, and he rested a cane against the ground.

"What?"

The peddler had flinched at the utterly silent approach, but the old man’s appearance let him relax his shoulders as he questioned him.

"Why would you eavesdrop on someone else’s... Well, of course you may."

The old man handed him a silver coin midsentence, and the peddler promptly changed his tune.

"It’s something everyone talks about..."

He began, looking at the old man.

Looking at the blind man made him feel as though he were fleecing a helpless elder with no one to rely on. He stopped mumbling and resolved to explain everything he knew in as much detail as possible.

It would have been different had he taken nothing, but now that he had been paid, wasn’t it a true merchant’s duty to provide fair value?

And so he did.

"Now, listen closely. There are five lunatics in all."

There was the lunatic whose parents had been killed by nobles when he was a child, and who had split the head of every noble he saw with an axe ever since.

"They say he has a vicious temper, so be careful if you run into him. If you see gray hair... No, um, never mind."

The merchant hastily changed the subject. That was no thing to say to a blind man. He couldn’t see anything, after all.

He talked until his mouth went dry, even distinguishing rumor from fact. He was more enthusiastic than before, intent on making up for his blunder.

There was the half-bear Beastman who tore people in two, a lunatic who told people to beg God for forgiveness before ripping them apart.

Then the blood-crazed swordsman, the order’s youngest member, who supposedly had to drink blood once every three days.

And finally, the perverted murderer who had gone mad after a woman abandoned him, and now found ecstasy in stabbing people in the back.

"But rumors are just rumors. If you ask the people who actually live here, they say it’s all rather exaggerated."

They were a little fierce in reality, but killing people wasn’t their hobby.

"People let a few rumors slide, but nothing good comes of insulting those gentlemen in Border Guard. Don’t go spreading this around."

The merchant felt he had earned his silver coin. A short walk around the city would turn up these stories, but learning all the finer details wouldn’t be so easy.

The old man didn’t look like a beggar, but neither did he look particularly well-off. Being blind, he would have trouble picking up stories elsewhere.

"No, you’ve got that a little wrong."

Just as they were about to part, a fierce-looking passerby approached.

The merchant instinctively raised both hands to shield himself. The man looked ready to throw a punch at any moment. Paying no heed to the raised hands, he said his piece.

"That axe lunatic is just plain fucking mad."

His words carried weight. They held a sincerity born only of experience, a force charged with some bone-deep emotion. It made every word he uttered feel laden with meaning.

The old man surveyed the newcomer with his milky eyes. For someone who couldn’t see, his gaze was pointed in roughly the right direction.

The man placed both hands on the merchant’s shoulders. The merchant flinched, but didn’t shake them off. Heat radiated from those hands into his shoulders. Even through his thick clothes, they felt hot.

"Remember that. The bastard really is insane."

He was one of the infantrymen Rem had chosen to serve under him. Ordinarily, he would never have been outside the barracks, but Rem knew when to give them some freedom.

He had granted them half a day’s leave. Of course, that brief pleasure was reserved for those who distinguished themselves in training. And naturally, it was leave during which escape was utterly out of the question.

["Run away? Go on, try it. I’ll come after you. Anyone I catch gets double."]

Double what? The training, probably. If not, the beatings.

Rem had said it without a trace of a smile. That was when the man, a member of the so-called axe unit, realized he was well and truly fucked.

Ah, life.

All he could do was enjoy his brief outing as much as possible, then return feeling like a condemned man. Hearing someone defend that crazy bastard had made him butt in. He simply couldn’t stand there and listen.

"Whew."

He withdrew his hands and turned with a sigh.

"A lunatic who deserves divine punishment."

With that, he turned and walked away. Somehow, his steps seemed drained of strength. Even though the man had already turned his back, the merchant nodded reflexively.

"Not everyone likes them, it seems?"

The old man spoke slowly.

"Ah, well, he’s probably a soldier. They say they’re all like that when they first start training."

The merchant passed on a similar story he’d heard from a guard he knew by sight.

The old man nodded a couple of times, then turned his head in another direction, meeting the eyes of a hooded figure there.

Milky eyes and blue seemed to study each other across the intervening space. But the old man was blind. Puzzled and curious, the hooded man asked a question.

"Can you see?"

"No, I cannot."

"I see."

A few words, hardly enough to call a conversation. The old man nodded a couple of times again. Nodding seemed to be a habit of his.

"Well, we have work to do."

The merchants left, and the old man began walking, tapping his cane against the ground.

He walked with the tip of his cane sweeping the ground. Border Guard was enjoying an unprecedented boom and was naturally crowded, yet he threaded his way through the people remarkably well.

The hooded man, Encrid, watched the old man go for a while.

He certainly walked well.

Not many people recognized Encrid, but those who did were bound to cause him a good deal of bother. That was why he wore a cloak and hood when he came into the city. Plenty of others dressed the same way, so nobody gave him odd looks.

Yet despite the old man’s blindness, Encrid had felt as though their eyes had met.

An unusual fellow.

His presence was strangely faint. His body showed signs of training, yet another look made Encrid wonder whether it did at all. He was a hard old man to judge.

In any case, Encrid had come out for a reason. He was about to resume walking. He would do so as soon as the old man, who drew his gaze so oddly, disappeared from sight.

A quiet route seemed preferable to pushing through the crowds, even if it meant a detour. He had originally intended to cut through the city center, but why was it so packed?

"Now, let me tell you about this hide! What is it? Why, it’s the hide of a crocodile demonic beast! What’s a crocodile? Have I been talking to someone who doesn’t even know what a crocodile is? Honestly!"

"This is no ordinary stone, but a lucky stone! It comes from the West, made through the devotions of dozens of shamans..."

"Firewood for sale! Firewood!"

Everywhere, people shouted with the veins standing out in their necks. Stalls and makeshift tents filled the spaces between buildings, and vendors loudly proclaimed their wares. Carriages couldn’t even pass down this street.

Add the builders’ guild members bringing in construction materials, mules, and handcarts to put up new buildings, and the place felt more like a battlefield than an actual battlefield.

Not that there was blood flying or people dying.

No, such things weren’t entirely absent.

"You fuck—didn’t I tell you this was my spot?"

"Since when does anyone own a spot here?"

Two grown men were throwing punches at each other. Neither moved like he had any training. It seemed to be one of those commonplace disputes that broke out while selling goods. Then a young man watching from behind joined in for no good reason, and it threatened to become a real free-for-all.

The problem was that the old man with the cane was walking straight into the budding fight. Encrid might have done nothing had he not seen it, but he had been watching all along.

In a single stride, he slipped through the crowd, nudging people aside as needed, and caught the old man’s sleeve.

"Best not go that way."

Someone who couldn’t see should hear better, but perhaps the market was too noisy for him to work out directions by sound.

"You are a kind man."

The old man spoke without even turning his head. He seemed to know who had spoken to him, who was holding his sleeve.

Encrid found it quite curious. But that really was the end of it. The old man changed direction, and guards came running at the commotion.

TWEEET!

The guard who had blown the whistle shouted.

"Stop! That’s enough! You there, put that rock down! Kill someone and you’ll die too. If you don’t want to be dragged before a judge, knock it off."

The arriving guard deftly broke up the fight and restrained the combatants. There were three well-trained soldiers, all armed. Amateur brawlers didn’t stand a chance.

The fight ended, leaving only tempers running high.

"Some drifter from another city..."

"Oh, and you were born and raised in Border Guard, were you?"

The two merchants were still seething, their anger unspent. Several young men behind them were much the same.

Encrid recalled something Krais had told him a few days earlier. It concerned something that always happened when people gathered: factions, and the quarrels that came with them.

One side consisted of people who had settled in Border Guard some time ago, the other of recent arrivals. The two didn’t get along.

Apparently, people from the capital had banded together as well, and some southern Naurilian nobles had moved to the city and formed their own group.

These factions and their fighting were becoming a bit of a headache. It was only natural when so many people crowded into a small space, each struggling tooth and nail to turn a profit.

There were also people who paid no attention to factions, people who watched from a distance, and even people who used them to scheme.

'Not that she’s scheming, but Vanessa seems to have the right idea.'

A local, Vanessa had expanded her inn, opened a new restaurant, and recently added a café. Apparently, the blended pumpkin drink she sold there was delicious, but Encrid had yet to try it.

The line was absurdly long.

It wasn’t as though he could announce, "I’m the commander of Border Guard’s Lunatic Knight Order," and push his way in.

There were ways to get a drink if he wanted, but Encrid had never been particularly gluttonous. He liked good food; he simply didn’t chase after it.

In any case, problems of one sort or another were inevitable wherever people gathered. What he had just seen seemed to be one of them.

'Will it fester if we leave it alone?'

He didn’t know. He had never seen a city this bustling himself.

Border Guard had developed at a mad pace in a short time, far outstripping the neighboring cities. Several master bakers had already moved here from Martai, and even people from Aspen’s city of Cross Guard were coming over.

With the city flourishing like this, nearby lords who oppressed their subjects had no footing left.

What were they to do? Some of the neighboring nobles naturally wanted to place themselves under Encrid of Border Guard. When they weren’t accepted, they decided to make their territories part of the royal domain.

In other words, the royal house had gained strength.

At any rate, Border Guard’s gates were always open, turning no newcomers away. Hadn’t Krais said they still lacked enough workers for Green Pearl?

After recalling the things he’d half listened to in passing, Encrid watched the guards keeping order for a little while, then headed for a quieter street.

What he had just witnessed wasn’t pleasant, but neither was there any reason to let it spoil his mood.

He left the city center and passed through several alleys. Once, these places had sometimes reeked of filth, but recent improvements had left them wide and clean. Here and there, he saw people who looked like Gilfin Guild members.

"Where do you want these?"

A human man was carrying a crate of fruit. With three blade scars across his face, he could readily have passed for a handsome Frog.

His appearance, his clothes, and the dagger at his waist confirmed he belonged to the Gilfin Guild. A black square was engraved on the dagger’s hilt. Encrid had heard the guild had recently chosen an emblem for all its members to carry.

These were the people who guarded the city by night, providing a second layer of security alongside Border Guard’s standing army. As Encrid entered the alley, a few of the keener-sensed guild members glanced at him, but they only watched. None tried to pick a fight.

He emerged from the alley onto a broad, open street. Walking along the solid stone paving, he looked up at the piercingly blue sky.

Not a cloud in sight. It was the sort of weather that made walking with your eyes on the sky a pleasure.

The breeze was cool, the sunshine warm. Encrid walked at an unhurried pace, his footsteps tapping along the street. Doing your best in everything surely didn’t mean spending your life rushing about, gasping for breath.

In that sense, this was a road worth savoring on foot.