"My grandfather carved those gates himself with his sword. Impressive, aren't they?"

Encrid offered an appropriate response to Oara's remark.

"They are."

"Ah, I miss my ex-husband."

"... Where did that come from?"

Oara still said the most unpredictable things. She seemed impulsive. From what he had seen of her so far, she didn't appear to be much of a planner.

"Once I kill that bastard of an ex-husband, that Demonic Realm will be finished too."

It made no sense, but Encrid took it in stride. All his experience dealing with Rem and the others hadn't gone to waste.

"Does your ex-husband live in the Demonic Realm?"

Oara burst out laughing at his matter-of-fact question. No one had ever responded that way before.

"Oh, it just has the same name."

Roman had approached unnoticed and spoke from beside them. The short-haired blonde came over as well, carrying a bottle and metal cups. A few drinks went around.

"What's this? What are you drinking? Give me some."

Rem came outside.

"Help yourself."

Oara nodded. Uncharacteristically, the western barbarian merely wet his lips and listened in silence.

Oara did most of the talking. They sat wherever they pleased, using a tree stump as a table. Perhaps it was the fine weather, but nothing felt uncomfortable. The breeze was cool, the liquor pleasant enough. They had only jerky to go with it, but that wasn't bad either.

"The bastard's called Jerix."

After hearing the whole explanation, Encrid thought it was in poor taste. Why give a name to a monster living in the Demonic Realm? Still, it wasn't his place to argue, so he kept any pointed remarks to himself.

It had happened when Oara was a squire. She had fallen in love with a man and wanted to marry him and share a life together, but a sudden bout of wanderlust had sent him away. Apparently, he had been an exceptionally handsome bard. At this point, Oara proudly declared that she was partial to a pretty face. Encrid nearly asked whether that was something to boast about, but restrained himself.

"A man ought to look like me."

Roman spoke and Rem nodded, but Oara ignored them completely.

"That bastard's part of why I became a knight, too."

If that could make someone a knight, Encrid would gladly have his heart broken a thousand times. Of course, Oara couldn't truly have become a knight because of her idiot fiancé.

He also heard that Jerix had gone on to wander about breaking dozens of women's hearts. The conversation continued for a while longer, with pauses to empty their cups. The liquor wasn't strong. It was just right for drinking while relaxing.

A cool breeze without a trace of humidity for the first time in days, the beautiful view beyond the walls that morning, conversation, drinks. Everything came together to make a fine night.

"Before I die, I'm going to wipe out that Demonic Realm."

Oara said it abruptly. To Encrid, it sounded like this: die she might, but she would put an end to the Demonic Realm before her first.

As he reflected on the strange meaning he had read into her words, Oara rose, dusting off her backside.

"Sleep well."

With that, the two proto knights left with her.

"Doesn't she look ready to charge into the Demonic Realm any minute?"

Rem was perceptive. He had sensed the same thing Encrid had.

"She does."

But could a Demonic Realm simply be closed because someone wanted it closed? All it took was killing the monster at its core? Would that monster be easy to fight? Surely not. If it were easy, she could have armed herself long ago, gone inside, and slit its throat.

Oara seemed to be waiting for her moment. And she seemed to want that moment to come soon. Well, it wasn't something he needed to think about right now.

Encrid rose as well, dusted the dirt off his backside, and gave himself a quick wash at the well beside their lodgings. When he returned, he saw Dunbachel lying in bed without having washed for days. Her dirt-caked boots and clothes were in plain sight. She had stripped naked and wrapped herself in a thin blanket.

Sensing his gaze, Dunbachel opened her eyes.

"Want me to hold you?"

"Want me to wash you?"

"I'm asleep. I said I'm asleep."

She squeezed her eyes shut as she spoke.

It had been such a good day that Encrid decided to leave any further nagging until tomorrow. That was a considerable stroke of luck for Dunbachel.

"You seem to be in a good mood."

Luagarne, now a master at reading Encrid's expressions, spoke. She had finished meditating seated on her bed and was lying down. She prayed to the Frogs' god once every few days, and apparently today had been one of those days. Otherwise, she would have come out to join them for a drink and conversation.

Luagarne enjoyed the company of humans, particularly Encrid. He was a pleasure to watch, entertaining to talk to, and always gave her something to look forward to. There was little reason not to enjoy it. That was how she saw things.

"Do I?"

Encrid asked, then nodded. By his own reckoning, it had been quite a good day. Having answered, he lay down. Sleepiness washed over him. Thinking what a lucky day it had been, he soon fell asleep.

And woke not long afterward. It wasn't his usual waking hour. It wasn't even midnight.

SKREEEEEE!

A scream rang out in the distance. Not a human scream. It unmistakably belonged to a monster.

* * *

["Try enjoying this as well."]

The ferryman had appeared in his dream, but only briefly. He didn't know how long it had actually been, but that was how it felt.

The instant he heard the scream, Encrid sprang up and seized his sword. Then he gathered his equipment: armor, dagger sheaths, three swords, a shield, and even his javelin.

"What's that noise?"

Rem woke too, and armed himself almost as quickly as Encrid. Dunbachel and Luagarne did the same.

Outside, they saw a commander leading twenty soldiers. All carried longbows, with shortswords, axes, or iron-banded clubs at their waists.

"Did the noise wake you?"

The twenty soldiers marched in step, unhurried. Their commander raised a fist as he asked the question, and the soldiers slowed at his signal.

Weren't they taking this a little too calmly? Encrid answered as the thought crossed his mind.

"I heard a strange cry."

It had been an odd sound for a scream.

"Probably a screaming spider. More of those spider bastards have been showing up lately. Must be some more shit going on inside the Demonic Realm."

The commander was perfectly calm. This could hardly have been the first or second time.

HOOOOOO.

An owl's call sounded in the distance as well.

"Looks like an owlbear's come too."

The commander's manner hadn't changed. He remained utterly matter-of-fact.

"Well, then."

He brought his right hand to his waist in salute and moved on. The twenty soldiers quickened their pace a little without breaking formation. Encrid followed them.

"They're certainly calm," Rem said behind him.

"Why wouldn't they be? These are the Demonic Realm borderlands. Battles like this are everyday life for them," Luagarne added.

Encrid looked up at the two moons overhead. Clouds were rolling in from one side and looked ready to cover them soon. It would get quite dark, then. Walking briskly as he considered that, he reached the western gate.

"Um, listen."

Dunbachel drew close beside Encrid as they walked.

"What is it?"

Her nose kept twitching. She smelled something strange. More precisely, it was a scent that seemed less like a smell than a signal. Ever since childhood, no one else had been able to smell it, and it had once earned her a reputation as a liar. Even Beastmen, who used scent as signals themselves, had struggled to accept it.

Some monsters occasionally used scent much as people used sound to send signals. Smell was a sense, just like hearing. In other words, just because Dunbachel alone could smell something did not mean it wasn't there.

She had been treated like a fool for saying so before. After that, she had never said anything of the sort again. She didn't want to be taken for an idiot a second time.

'Would it be all right to say it now?'

Encrid looked at her. His gaze was the same as always. The eyes of a madman who pressed straight ahead. What would he say if she told him about her worries?

"It doesn't matter whether they believe me. If I want to say something, I'll say it."

Encouraged by the Encrid in her imagination, Dunbachel spoke.

"There's something out there. Things that use scent to send signals."

Encrid didn't question her. He simply took in the information he needed. He didn't even stop to consider whether what she had said was true. He would believe her first. She was one of his people. If he wouldn't believe her, who would?

His response reassured Dunbachel. Then Luagarne spoke.

"It's not unusual for monsters to communicate with one another."

It was an answer drawn from her wealth of experience.

CAAAAAW.

Just then, a crow flew overhead. Its cry sounded like a dreadful scream. It also sounded as though it were fleeing something.

They reached the western wall at that moment.

"Loose!"

Just as Encrid had expected, the soldiers atop the wall were firing volleys from their bows. With a wall, a knight, and squires at their disposal, it was only natural to fight this way.

"Nock your arrows!"

"Don't shoot! Hold! Hold!"

"Fire arrows only! Give us some light! Give us some light!"

Commanders' shouts rang out.

Everything around them was dark. Naturally: it was the middle of the night. The red light spilling from the torches cast shadows that rippled over the walls. They almost looked like demonic beasts made of shadow lunging at them.

Encrid reached the wall and started up the stairs. Ahead, a soldier carrying bundles of arrows climbed the narrow stairway. The soldier moved diligently, but without haste. Calmly.

"Doesn't look like there'll be much trouble," Rem said.

Encrid assessed the situation without answering. At the top, he saw a commander shouting with the veins standing out in his neck.

"Loose!"

The command rang out again, followed by the rapid twang of bowstrings. More than twenty archers loosed their arrows.

WHOOOOOSH!

The arrows arced through the moonlight and fell.

By the light of the moons, he could make out a swarm of spiders crawling along the ground in the distance. They were as large as humans. Monsters, of course.

"Giant spiders," Luagarne said.

Encrid had heard of them, though this was his first time seeing them. But weren't giant spiders normally no taller than a person's knee, even at their largest? He gauged their size. They only looked small because he was watching from atop the wall. They would be larger in person. The heads of the crawling spiders looked as if they would reach his waist.

While he was studying them, someone called out.

"You're here?"

It was Oara. She stood atop the wall with her arms folded. Encrid went over to her.

"So much for a good night's sleep, eh?"

"It seems so."

Quite apart from the alcohol, he did feel a little tired. Anyone felt fatigued when they couldn't sleep at their usual hour. Oara was no exception. Knights had surpassed their limits, but that didn't mean they no longer needed food or sleep. They were people who excelled at killing, not people who lived without eating or sleeping. Encrid acknowledged that too.

Still, he thought this much should be manageable. If necessary, even he could stay awake for two nights and act as though he were fine. Someone's balance might slip slightly while wielding a sword, but his wouldn't, at least. Shouldn't a knight fare even better?

Encrid studied Oara's face. Shadows beneath her eyes, bloodshot eyes, dry, rough skin. She looked like a peasant woman returning from a full day in the fields. In short, she looked exhausted. From just a few cups of weak liquor? Or from not sleeping properly? Wasn't this excessive for either?

"Today was my Sabbath."

Oara spoke almost in a mutter. The necklace bearing the symbol of her faith swayed against her chest. Its blue gem gleamed even in the darkness.

Encrid's thoughts accelerated. Sabbath, knight, Demonic Realm, dream, Jerix, the Demonic Realm again, Thousand Brick, Roman imitating a knight's sword.

["Before I die, I'm going to wipe out that Demonic Realm."]

The words he had heard before closing his eyes slotted into place as the final piece.

"Are you ill?"

At his question, Oara blinked several times.

"Hm?"

"Am I wrong?"

When it came to perceptiveness, he was the best on the continent. Oara realized anew that beneath his impassive exterior, this man was both observant and relentless.

"Sharp of you. Even Roman didn't notice for half a year."

Despite appearances, Roman was attentive too, but he had been slow to notice. Oara had hidden her condition that well. She discreetly spread her cloak to block the other soldiers' view and lifted her shirt. She wasn't wearing any armor. Beneath the soft fabric, blue veins bulged across her belly.

"It's poison," Oara said.

As she spoke, the clouds that had been creeping across the sky finally covered the moons. Darkness settled over them.

FWOOSH.

The wind stirred the torches, making Oara's shadow look as though it were being torn apart.