Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 556 - Strolling Through the City

Chapter 556 - Strolling Through the City

"Why is the Madmen Unit called that?"

When the merchant, who was both a peddler and a trader, asked the question, his companion quickly replied.

"Well, it's because there really are only madmen in it."

"Is it okay to talk like that out loud?"

"What's the big deal? Everyone already knows."

At the entrance of the bustling market at the center of Border Guard, two peddlers were chatting.

The one with the thinner lips, and the looser tongue, did most of the talking.

The conversation might have sounded like ramblings of fools, but in reality, it wasn't any great secret.

These were stories everyone already knew.

Besides, the subject of their gossip wasn't even present, and it's human nature to badmouth even kings when they aren't around.

"Can I hear more about that?"

Suddenly, a new voice chimed in, and the merchant flinched, his shoulders tensing as he turned to see the speaker.

His expression quickly darkened as he looked at the source.

It was an old, white-haired blind man who had somehow approached without a sound.

The elderly man, hunched over and wrinkled, leaned on his cane as he stood there.

"What do you want?"

Startled by the man's quiet approach, the merchant stiffened for a moment, but when he got a good look at the old man, he relaxed and replied.

"Why are you eavesdropping on other people's—"

Before he could finish, the old man held out a silver coin, and the merchant's demeanor changed instantly.

"Well, it's something everyone's talking about..."

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The merchant trailed off, staring at the blind man.

Seeing him, the merchant felt it would be heartless to swindle a helpless, blind old man, so he promised to explain as much as he could.

After all, he'd been paid.

A true merchant delivers value for what he receives.

"Alright, listen up. There are five madmen in total."

The first was a madman who lost both parents to a noble and now split noble heads with his axe whenever he saw one.

"They say he's dangerous, so be careful if you run into him. If you see gray hair—well, uh, never mind."

The merchant stopped himself abruptly.

That wasn't something you said to a blind man.

He quickly redirected the conversation and began distinguishing rumor from fact, talking until his mouth was dry.

His attitude had grown noticeably more enthusiastic.

He wanted to make up for his earlier slip.

Then there was a half-bear beastkin who ripped people in half, saying it was divine justice.

Another madman who supposedly drank blood every three days—a sword-crazed lunatic and the youngest of the unit.

And lastly, there was a perverted murderer who found pleasure in stabbing people in the back after being heartbroken by a woman.

"But rumors are just rumors. If you talk to the people in the city, they say it's all exaggerated."

In reality, they might be rough around the edges, but they didn't kill for sport.

"Rumors spread, but you gain nothing by badmouthing them in Border Guard, so don't go repeating this elsewhere."

The merchant decided he had earned his silver coin.

Sure, you could find this out by wandering around the city, but getting such detailed information wasn't so easy.

The old man didn't seem destitute, but he wasn't particularly well-off either.

A blind man probably couldn't go around picking up stories easily.

"No, your story's a little wrong."

Just as they were about to part ways, a man with a menacing look approached.

The merchant instinctively raised both hands as if to shield himself.

The man looked ready to throw a punch at any moment.

But whether the merchant flinched or not, the man simply spoke his mind.

"The axe-wielding madman? He's just plain crazy."

There was weight to his voice.

It carried an intensity and conviction that only came from personal experience, as though every word was etched into his bones.

Even the merchant could tell that this man wasn't just talking; he had lived it.

The blind old man turned his milky-white eyes toward the newcomer, as if examining him.

Though blind, his gaze seemed almost perfectly directed.

The man placed both hands on the merchant's shoulders, and the merchant shivered.

Even through his thick clothing, he could feel the heat radiating from the man's hands.

"Remember this. That guy is truly insane."

The man was one of the soldiers under Rem's command.

Normally, he wouldn't have left the barracks, but Rem was willing to give occasional leave to those who earned it.

It was a brief reward for those who stood out in training.

Of course, escape wasn't an option.

"Run? Go ahead, try. I'll hunt you down, and your punishment will double."

Double what?

Probably the training.

If not, it'd be a beating.

Rem had said it without a hint of humor, and the so-called "Axe Squad" soldier realized in that moment that he'd been trapped.

Life was unfair.

So he decided to make the most of his brief outing before returning like a man walking to his execution.

But hearing someone defending that madman was just too much.

He couldn't hold back.

"Sigh."

With a deep breath, the man pulled his hands back, turned around, and muttered:

"That lunatic deserves divine punishment."

He walked off with heavy steps, his gait lacking energy.

Even though the man had already turned away, the merchant nodded instinctively.

"Not everyone seems to like them."

The old man asked slowly.

"Oh, that—he's probably a soldier. I hear it's like that during the early days of training."

The merchant shared what he'd heard from a guard before.

The old man nodded a couple of times, then turned his head toward someone else—a figure wearing a hood.

For a moment, the two locked eyes.

The old man's milky, clouded eyes seemed to meet the hooded man's piercing blue gaze as though cutting through the air between them.

But the old man was blind.

The hooded man frowned and asked, curious:

"Can you see me?"

"No, I can't."

"I see."

It wasn't much of a conversation.

The old man nodded again, as though it were a habit.

"Well, we're busy here."

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

He moved deftly through the crowded streets of Border Guard, which was at its busiest in recent memory.

The hooded man—Enkrid—watched the old man for a moment.

He walks well.

Not many people recognized him, but when they did, it was always a hassle, so he wore a cloak and hood in the city.

Fortunately, plenty of people dressed similarly, so no one gave him a second glance.

Still, something about the old man nagged at him.

Even though he was blind, it felt as if he had looked right at him.

There was something odd about him.

His presence was faint, yet unmistakable.

His body seemed trained, but then again, maybe not.

It was strange.

But Enkrid had come to the city for a reason, and he intended to get on with it.

All he had to do was wait for the old man to pass out of sight.

The less crowded streets would be a better route anyway.

At first, he'd thought to go through the city center, but it was just too noisy.

"Now, about this leather! What is it, you ask? This is crocodile beast-hide!"

"This stone is a lucky stone! It came all the way from the West, blessed by dozens of shamans..."

"Firewood for sale! Firewood!"

Voices screamed from every direction.

Makeshift stalls filled the gaps between buildings, merchants shouting to advertise their wares.

There wasn't even room for carts here.

And to make things worse, construction workers were bringing in supplies, dragging donkeys and carts through the chaos. It was more warlike than an actual battlefield.

No one was bleeding or dying—at least, not usually.

"You bastard, I told you this is my spot!"

"There's no such thing as your spot here!"

Two grown men swung punches at each other, clearly untrained but plenty angry.

A young man watching from the sidelines jumped into the fray, and chaos seemed imminent.

And in the middle of all this, the blind old man was walking straight into trouble.

Enkrid, who had been watching, pushed his way through the crowd, grabbed the old man's sleeve, and said:

"I wouldn't go that way if I were you."

The noise in the market was deafening, and Enkrid wondered if the blind man had lost his sense of direction because of it.

"You're a good person."

The old man said without even turning his head.

It seemed he knew who was talking to him and who was holding his sleeve.

Enkrid found that particularly fascinating.

And that was truly the end of it.

The old man changed direction and began walking again, and as commotion broke out, guards came rushing in.

Piiiiiik!

A guard blew his whistle and shouted.

"Stop! That's enough! You, put the stone down! If someone dies, you're dead too. If you don't want to be dragged to the courtroom, knock it off."

The approaching guards efficiently broke up the fight and restrained the situation.

There were three well-trained soldiers, fully armed, leaving no room for clumsy brawlers to interfere.

Once the fight was over, all that remained was frustration.

"Some drifter from another city."

"Oh, so you're a local of Border Guard, huh?"

The two merchants continued to grumble angrily, seemingly unable to let go of their frustration, while a few young men standing behind them looked much the same. Enkrid recalled something Krais had mentioned a few days prior. It was about the usual things that happened when people gathered in one place: conflicts tied to factions.

One side consisted of those who had settled in Border Guard long ago, and the other side was the recently relocated newcomers. Their relationship wasn't particularly harmonious.

Some stuck together based on their origins from the capital, while a few southern nobles from Naurilia had also crossed over into the city and formed their own group.

All this factionalism caused quite a headache.

When people flock together on a small patch of land and fight desperately to secure profits, such things inevitably happen.

Then there were those who ignored the factions entirely, some who kept a distance and merely observed, and others who exploited the divisions for their own schemes.

'Not exactly scheming, but someone like Vanessa seems to be doing just fine.'

Vanessa, a native of Border Guard, had recently expanded her inn, opened a new restaurant, and even set up a cafeteria.

Word had it that the pumpkin beverage she served there was especially delicious.

Enkrid hadn't tasted it yet himself.

The line was always too long.

Not that he could just declare, "I'm the madmen knight general of Border Guard," to skip to the front.

He had ways to get a taste if he really wanted, but Enkrid wasn't particularly gluttonous.

He liked good food but wouldn't chase it down relentlessly.

In any case, when people gathered, it was natural for various issues to arise.

What had just unfolded before his eyes seemed to be one of those problems.

'If left alone, it might fester.'

Who knows?

Enkrid himself had never seen a city this bustling before.

Border Guard had grown at a breakneck pace, pulling ahead significantly compared to nearby cities.

Skilled bakers from Martai had already migrated here, and even people from the Aspen's border city were beginning to trickle in.

With the city developing so quickly, oppressive lords in neighboring territories no longer had a foothold.

So what did they do?

Some nobles naturally sought to come under Enkrid's jurisdiction in Border Guard.

When they were rejected, they opted instead to become direct subjects of the kingdom.

In short, it strengthened the royal family's power.

Still, Border Guard's gates remained open, welcoming anyone who wished to come.

From what Krais said, Green Pearl hadn't yet filled its need for labor either.

After briefly recalling these stray bits of information, Enkrid watched the guards responsible for maintaining public order before heading down a quieter path.

The situation earlier hadn't been particularly pleasant, but there was no reason for it to sour his mood.

Enkrid exited the central area and passed through several alleys.

These alleys, which once reeked of filth, were now clean and spacious thanks to recent urban renovations.

Along the way, he saw a few individuals who looked like members of the Gilpin Guild.

"Where do you want this moved?"

A human man, with three scars on his face that somehow made him look ruggedly handsome, carried a crate of fruit.

Judging by his appearance, attire, and the dagger at his waist, he was indeed from the Gilpin Guild.

A black square emblem engraved on the dagger's hilt confirmed it.

Recently, the guild had established a standard crest that all members carried with them.

These were the ones who, along with Border Guard's standing forces, ensured the city's safety through the night.

When Enkrid stepped into the alley, a few sharp-eyed guild members briefly turned their attention to him but merely observed him without causing trouble.

Emerging from the alley, Enkrid found himself on a wide, open road.

He strolled along the solid stone-paved path and looked up at the brilliantly blue sky.

Not a single cloud marred the view.

It was the kind of day that made walking while gazing at the heavens feel worthwhile.

The breeze was cool, and the sunlight warm.

Enkrid walked unhurriedly, his footsteps sounding softly on the road.

Giving his all in everything didn't mean rushing around, panting for breath.

In that sense, this was a road worth walking.

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