The brown-haired woman's eyes came into focus.

"I agree," Luagarne said from behind him. After coming all this way with him, what was she talking about?

Encrid did not rush to interject. Experience had taught him that adding a few words at a time like this tended to make things worse.

"Are you seeing anyone? Aesia, perhaps?"

"He may become my spiritual spouse, and he has a betrothed and a pet cat back with the main force."

The brown-haired woman and Luagarne talked nonstop with Encrid between them.

"That's cruel, my lady. With me sitting right here."

The man beside her spoke up.

His deep voice took on a whining tone that did not suit him at all. Managing to whine so stolidly was a talent in its own right.

The woman burst out laughing and slapped him on the back. To Encrid, it looked decidedly awkward. The man was smaller than Audin but still quite large, while the woman was not even half his size. The hand patting his back looked tiny.

But that was not all there was to it, of course. Encrid's gaze went to the woman's palm as she patted the man. He observed without a word. He could see calluses on her palm, the sort that only years of gripping and swinging a sword could produce.

He examined the man receiving the pats as well. A large frame, a menacing face, a whining manner of speech, and an exceedingly well-trained body with muscles as sharply defined as a sculpture's.

Last, he looked at the woman with short blond hair and sharp eyes. Their gazes met. The brown-haired woman followed his gaze and spoke.

"Is she your type? You like a little danger, do you? But you really are handsome. Just looking at you would be a treat. Lucky bastards at Border Guard!"

She was the sort who said whatever she pleased without a thought for anyone else. As she spoke, she banged her cup on the table. Rather than a grating noise, it sounded like an aptly timed effect, as though she had struck it to a rhythm.

"I'm Encrid, from Border Guard."

He introduced himself plainly.

He had long since given up on correcting every misunderstanding caused by Luagarne's remarks. It did not seem as though anything he said here would get through, either. And none of that mattered.

Had he passed the brown-haired woman on the street, he would have taken her for an ordinary person with unremarkable looks. Oara the knight tilted her chair back until its front legs left the floor, draped her right arm diagonally over the backrest, and replied.

"Oara, of the Scarlet Cloak Knight Order."

She was a knight, of course. She differed somewhat from what Encrid had imagined, but the fact that she had not shown him a single opening all this time confirmed it.

"A provocative fellow, aren't you?"

The short-haired blonde beside her spoke, turning a metal cup in her hand.

In an instant, several ways to respond if that cup came flying at him flashed through Encrid's mind. He had not done it deliberately; the possibilities had come to him by instinct. Having experienced this several times before, he quickly realized what was happening.

Why did that cup pose a threat? Because the short-haired blonde was revealing her intent to attack while concealing her killing intent. It was a trick Jaxon often used. Had he not faced him in countless spars, he would never have detected that sly menace.

The cup was not the only threat. So was the whining man's right hand, which had disappeared beneath the table. He was holding a weapon. Encrid did not look that way, however. His gaze remained fixed ahead, on Oara.

Encrid added purpose to instinct and deliberately projected his presence. He had been doing so for a while; that was what the two had reacted to. But Oara brushed it all aside. More precisely, she ignored it.

"Unless you're possessed by the evil spirit of someone who died for lack of a fight, knock it off. I can tell you know how to hit, but these two do too," Oara said.

"I'm always happy to spar," Encrid replied calmly.

"He's another bastard like Milio."

The man met his eyes as he answered.

The woman turning her cup quietly withdrew her presence. Oara smiled.

"But you really are handsome."

The conversation was utterly unpredictable, but Encrid knew plenty of people like that. Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, Audin, and so on. He was used to it.

"I hear that often too. Might I trouble you for a spar?"

"Oho, the persistent, obsessive type. The novels I've been reading lately are full of them."

"I am rather persistent. I'd like a lesson from a knight."

"You've got a relentless streak. I like that too."

If Oara was having the conversation her own way, so was Encrid. Watching from the side, Aesia felt as though she were looking at parallel lines that would never meet.

"Enough of that. Let's discuss business first, Master."

Knights were also teachers to everyone in the knight order. That was why they were called Masters.

"Ah, business?"

Only then did Encrid sit down and listen to something resembling an explanation. The unpredictable Oara abruptly brought up the drinking ban.

"With this much work to do, they expect to sit around drinking? We don't even have enough people to clean up the mess when something goes wrong."

"Then why are you drinking?"

The Frog who explored the unknown could not suppress her curiosity. Come to think of it, no one here had seemed particularly surprised by the Frog standing behind Encrid.

"I'm in charge of this city. I'm also its castellan."

Oara was utterly unabashed.

Luagarne thought for a moment, then accepted it. That was plausible enough. Some humans grew a little willful once they held authority. She knew humans quite well.

Encrid felt as though he were looking at a free spirit who had escaped the mold of knighthood. Even so, he was not taken aback. How could everyone in the world be the same?

Above all, there was another thought.

'Does it matter?'

What mattered was that she was a knight, and that her skill was genuine.

And though she had not said so, she was doing something for this city. He could not have learned that by observing Oara alone, but the attitudes of Aesia and the others made it clear.

Despite her obvious exhaustion, Aesia treated her with respect and admiration, both as a knight and as a person. There was a glimpse of heartfelt reverence, something she had not readily shown even Krang.

The other two were the same. They seemed to go beyond respect to trust. Whether Oara drank, rambled, or made a fool of herself calling him handsome, neither their gazes nor their attitudes changed.

What sort of person someone had been could be read in the attitudes of those around them. It was a lesson Encrid had learned wandering the continent. He lived with such lessons etched into him, so naturally, he did not underestimate her. He focused only on the fact that she was a knight.

Nor had he forgotten why he was here.

"Isn't the situation worse than expected?"

Encrid was quick to assess a situation. Had he lacked even that ability, he could never have survived this long. Ever since taking up a sword, he had done one near-suicidal thing after another in pursuit of his dream. To avoid dying, he had needed to use everything around him.

He had done so both to survive and to somehow make dangerous, difficult undertakings succeed. Those experiences still helped him. They had also given him the discernment to read a situation.

"It's bad."

Aesia nodded and summed things up.

"The deserter bastards are a problem, but while we've been holding off the monster waves, three colonies have settled in."

There was a reason they had encountered spellcasting harpies earlier. In a sense, the appearance of intelligent demonic beasts was only natural too. Colonies raised the caliber of both monsters and demonic beasts.

Oara was chewing a piece of broccoli roasted golden brown. She acted as though none of this were of any consequence. Still chewing the broccoli, she spoke again.

"A few more bastards deserting this year."

"It's more than a few. We're about to run short of hands."

As Aesia replied, Encrid identified the most important point in the whole situation. Deserters and colonies were problems that needed solving, certainly, but only after they survived the waves of monsters pouring out of the Demonic Realm.

From what he could see, that was the greatest danger and the most pressing issue. Beyond the west lay the Demonic Realm borderlands. This city existed to guard against that realm.

"How do you stop the monsters coming from beyond the western gate?" he asked.

"I stop them."

Oara's answer was simple.

Encrid truly wanted to see her fight. Before him sat a knight who said she would hold back the waves of the Demonic Realm alone.

Could the knight from Aspen, the Mercenary King of the East, Ragna, or Sinar do that too? At least at this moment, it did not feel that way. It sounded like something only this ordinary-looking knight before him could do.

"May I watch?"

"Finish all your work, and I'll give you a front-row seat. But you'll have to look after yourself. If I got you killed, I think half the women in the world would become my enemies."

Oara slipped in a joke at the end. By now, Encrid had fully adjusted.

"You won't protect me if I'm in danger?"

His unexpected reply made Oara burst into hearty laughter again. As she laughed, the man beside her rounded his lips in an "Oh," then spoke.

"You've got some skills."

They seemed to measure skill by a person's jokes here. By that standard, Encrid might become the greatest knight on the continent.

"Not bad."

The short-haired blond proto knight, even smaller than Oara, nodded.

"Aesia, sort out his assignments. I've had too much to drink today."

As Oara finished speaking, Aesia bowed her head. Oara set her chair back on all four legs with a tap and drained the cup in her hand.

That ended the meeting. Once they were outside, Luagarne asked, "What do you think?"

The question lacked all context, but he immediately understood that she was asking for his impression of the knight.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I'll have to see."

He was curious about how she fought. More curious still about her sword. What were her tactics like? Her abilities as a knight? Not all knights were alike. Each person's path was different. He knew that now.

So...

'I can't even guess without seeing it.'

He desperately wanted to see the sword of this knight who outwardly radiated not a trace of intimidation. Longing welled up inside him. Even after facing the attacks of four knight-level fighters, his thirst remained unquenched. Yet rather than show impatience, he let a flower of enthusiasm bloom.

'If this too is a talent...'

Watching Encrid, Luagarne became intensely curious about what would happen if this man truly became a knight, if he came to wield Will as a knight did. It was impossible to predict. Even now, he appeared to have reached his limit.

That would make it all the more delightful. To make the impossible possible, with no imagining where it might end.

Luagarne felt a thrill that would have given a human goosebumps. Instead, her skin flushed red, as a Frog's did. She savored that private surge of emotion. She would do everything she could to bring it about. That was her resolve.

Aesia's eyes were tired, but she offered no excuses for Lady Oara. She knew Encrid. He was not the sort to dismiss or underestimate someone for behaving that way. If anything, he would grow curious and want to learn at her side. Sure enough, that was exactly how he was acting now.

Dunbachel, listening beside them, asked, "Are you going into the Demonic Realm?"

She did not look frightened, but there was a faint undercurrent of worry. In response, she tried to appear all the calmer. She was hiding her fear.

"If I get the chance."

Encrid's answer was firm. Had he not hoped for that, he would never have come this far.

Dunbachel swallowed silently. They had not even done anything yet, and already she wanted to run.

"Now, I suppose you'd call this a list of commissions to complete. There are quite a few. Even getting through half would give us room to breathe."

"Let's hear it."

Aesia did as Encrid asked. The commissions fell into two broad categories. The first was deserters. She said they were particularly bad this year.

To Encrid, the number of deserters was only natural. They faced constant battles in which one wrong turn could mean death, yet supplies were unreliable and the pay was poor. It was not even half what Border Guard's soldiers received on campaign. And had she said that even this was more than soldiers in other regions earned?

Under those circumstances, they would have to lock the soldiers up to keep them from running, but...

"Lady Oara's words were, 'Do you think bastards who only stay because of that will fight properly?'"

Encrid roughly understood Oara's approach. Keep only those willing to fight. Sift out everyone but those who knew how to fight properly and had the mental strength for it. Anyone else would break sooner or later and become incapable of fighting anyway.

The human mind was not so sturdy. Remain on the boundary of death too long, and it would break. The fear that tomorrow might be your last, a life in which the comrade beside you kept changing. Proper rest was necessary to prevent that.

There was a reason Border Guard had once rotated two battalions in its fighting against Aspen. It was to avoid continuous combat. Battle fatigue ate away at the mind before the body.

Before he could hear about the second problem, the monster colonies, Aesia vented her frustration.

"Two of the deserters have become a real problem. The worst bastard is one called Jack the Swordsman. He attacked a trading company bringing supplies from the rear."

Not a single grain of wheat grew in Thousand Brick. Finding food through hunting or other means was difficult, leaving the city dependent on supplies for everything. Yet a deserter had attacked the trading company sent from the capital.

Some deserters simply fled without causing trouble, but she said that occasionally there were lunatics like this. They wanted to loot something before they ran.

He had wondered why, but it turned out that more than half the soldiers dragged here as conscripts rather than volunteers were criminals. The more capable among them quickly gathered followers and tried to make one big haul before fleeing.

"I'd like you to deal with that bastard first."

Aesia gave him a description of Jack the Swordsman, and Encrid replied.

"I think I killed him on the way here."