Chapter 608 - Worship Me, for I Have Saved You
"Ahhh!"
"It's a monster!"
"Run away!"
Most of the people nearby recoiled in terror, except for a few who stood firm.
Amidst the retreating tide, one solid rock of resistance remained: a paladin radiating a gray holy light.
He scanned the intruders charging towards him.
'They fight well,' he thought.
The sudden attackers were in the midst of fierce combat, but their identity was unclear.
Mercenaries?
Reinforcements requested by some monastery?
He noticed their navy-blue cloaks but paid no mind to the insignias.
All he recognized was that they were formidable—enough recognition for now.
'Where did these bastards come from?'
Müel's audacious claim of imitating God and demanding worship stemmed not only from the absence of divine intervention but also from the impressive array of talent under his command.
Strength attracts ambition, and with enough power, even the creation of a new deity could seem feasible.
Half the Paladins of the Scales Order were gathered here, a testament to this strength.
The figure confronting Enkrid was one of these elite paladins.
'Could they be Overdier's secret forces?'
Rumors were already swirling that Prophet Overdier was leading an army.
But why a sudden ambush now?
Was there any tactical advantage?
It seemed unlikely.
The paladin decided not to dwell on the motives of his foes; breaking their momentum was a higher priority.
A lone warrior wielding dual swords with quiet precision disrupted their formation, scattering the troops as though chasing insects with fire.
"Haah!"
The Paladin of the Scales urged his warhorse forward.
Similar scenes unfolded elsewhere, as other paladins trained in strategy and tactics since childhood targeted the disruptive warriors—Ragna and Rem among them.
"This is as far as you go," the paladin declared, thrusting his slender sword forward.
He had maneuvered to the flank, approaching silently for a precise strike.
But Enkrid had already sensed the ambush.
He'd experienced this kind of attack before, particularly against Jaxen's training.
According to Jaxen, even the master assassin Geogr couldn't guarantee death against a prepared opponent.
Enkrid's response was a calm deflection of the incoming blade, his fairy sword Spark striking just enough to alter the trajectory.
Clang!
The paladin's face twisted in confusion.
How could that have been blocked?
He pressed harder, locking blades and trying to unseat Enkrid from his horse.
However, Enkrid's horse, Weird-Eye, responded as if in sync.
Snorting, it adjusted its footing and delivered a well-aimed headbutt to the enemy's steed.
Thud!
Neigh!
"What the—!"
The paladin's horse staggered, throwing off its rider's balance.
Enkrid seized the moment, driving his blade precisely between the gaps in the paladin's armor.
A golden flash cut through the air, piercing the man's throat.
Squish!
Blood spurted from the wound as the paladin collapsed.
Nearby, Rem had already dispatched another foe.
He dropped his spear, slammed his axe into the paladin's helmet, and punched the enemy's horse.
The combined assault left both rider and steed sprawled lifeless on the ground.
Ragna, meanwhile, delivered a devastating strike that cleaved both horse and rider in a single blow.
His attack combined Will with techniques refined by Enkrid, making the strike nearly unstoppable.
Slash!
In moments, three elite paladins lay defeated.
The chaos in their ranks spread, as Enkrid and his team carved through their formation, slaying the most spirited warriors.
"Run away!"
"Ahhh!"
"Monsters! Demons!"
"Save me! Mom!"
Cries of terror echoed as the enemy forces scattered.
The battlefield opened before Enkrid, and his surroundings grew eerily quiet.
The Madmen Unit regrouped around him, their expressions calm, as if they were merely taking a stroll.
"Let's go," Enkrid said, moving forward.
Though the path ahead was short, he replayed the recent battle in his mind.
The precision, the timing—everything had been executed instinctively.
Reflecting on the process, he identified the key:
'Accelerated thinking.'
It wasn't just about mastering techniques like slashing fire while emitting Will.
It was about the countless experiences compressed into moments of desperation.
His sharpened instincts and decision-making were the result of relentless practice.
'Not bad.'
With his trusty sword, crafted by Aetri, fitting perfectly in his hand, Enkrid advanced toward the monastery of Noah.
The battlefield was littered with evidence of prior skirmishes—splintered barricades, bloodstains, and scattered debris.
A man clad in iron armor stood at the entrance, his fatigue evident but his gaze sharp.
"Who are you?" he asked warily.
It was a reasonable question.
They had thought all hope was lost, only for a small force to break through the enemy lines, cutting down even the elite paladins without breaking a sweat.
Enkrid's blue eyes met the man's.
Calm and confident, he replied, "I'm an acquaintance of Abbot Noah. May I enter?"
The armored man hesitated.
Just days ago, a traitor within their ranks had nearly led to Noah's death.
Turning, he looked to the one-eyed abbot standing behind him.
Noah's expression shifted from shock to recognition. "How... how are you here?"
Having seen an unexpected face, it was only natural for them to ask why he had come.
With the priests watching, the other party opened his mouth to speak.
"To have a cup of tea."
It was a plain and simple answer.
Enkrid, recalling something he had said before, used it as an excuse.
"Next time you come, I'll serve you some good tea."
Yes, he had said something like that.
Noah remembered as well.
In preparation for the day he might visit, Noah had dried some tea leaves—not expensive ones, but at least drinkable.
Despite being short on food and going hungry for two days, he hadn't eaten the tea leaves.
After all, tea was a luxury and a delicacy, not something one brewed in times of desperation.
"Is there no tea?"
Enkrid asked again.
"There is," Noah answered, still dumbfounded.
"Then let's go."
Although the narrow path was blocked by thorny bushes and wooden barricades without a proper gate, the group crossed the wall just as one of the priests from the Heretic Extermination Order had done before.
They couldn't bring their horses over in the same way, so while some worked to create a gap in the barricade, Enkrid's horse leapt over the wall without any assistance.
Taking just a few steps back, the horse lightly kicked off the ground and jumped over the wall.
The sight was so astonishing that even the enemy soldiers watching in stunned silence couldn't help but gape.
"Wow."
"Wooooow!"
Small exclamations spread among the enemy troops, but those on the inside of the barricade were twice as shocked.
"Ugh!"
"Wah!"
Among the makeshift defenders holding hastily made spears in their trembling hands, one even fell backward in fright, landing on his rear.
"It doesn't bite," Enkrid said nonchalantly, dismounting and continuing on foot.
Noah followed him.
Having observed the entire situation, Shinar turned to Luagarne and asked, "Am I right in thinking he's acting shy because he's embarrassed?"
Rem, chuckling, answered instead.
"You've got it spot on. He can't bring himself to say he came to help, so he says he came for tea. That crazy guy is surprisingly bashful."
Since Shinar wouldn't bother making fairy jokes when Enkrid wasn't around, she simply nodded at the response.
Luagarne, on the other hand, puffed her cheeks as she laughed.
"Now that you mention it, he always talks like that. Even last time, he just said he swung his sword a bit."
Saving an entire city and all he had to say was that he swung his sword.
And technically, it wasn't just one swing but several.
"Exactly. He'd never say, 'I saved you all, now worship me!' Not in a million years. But when people start praising him, he's over the moon about it. You really didn't know?"
Rem laughed, chatting with the two who were agreeing with him.
Then, Ragna spoke up.
"Was it necessary to come in this way?
Not through the front?"
Ragna, standing where the front line had been, questioned why they had come toward the leader instead of through his position.
Rem responded, his tone incredulous.
"Someone needs to stick a compass in that idiot's head."
Jaxen walked a short distance away, silent.
Being near them would lower his dignity, so this distance was only natural.
From an outside perspective, it was much the same. In a situation like this, calmly walking at an exact interval didn't make someone look normal.
Fel, Ropord, and Theresa might have once struggled to match this atmosphere, but how long had they been at Border Guard now?
"Hey, how about a sparring match to commemorate our arrival?"
Ropord suggested to Fel.
"Count me in, too," Theresa chimed in.
"You'll never catch up to me with your level of talent," Fell replied.
Ropord scoffed at the comment.
Ever since Fell had secretly started training, he'd worked himself to exhaustion in plain sight, so much so that his tongue might as well sweat.
And yet, he always made excuses about talent.
At some point, Fel had become known as the hardest worker in the Border Guard, though he was the only one who denied it.
"I'm a man of extraordinary talent," Fell declared.
Thus, the mad knight company strode through the monastery.
Naturally, everyone nearby heard and saw them.
These were people who hadn't eaten properly in two days.
Anyone with eyes, ears, and a mind would think dying was inevitable.
Their perspective on life had become that of those who had lost hope, a tale with a foregone conclusion.
Some had even considered ending their lives, but for believers, suicide was the greatest sin.
So they had simply endured, only for these absurd individuals to arrive.
Their casual attitude seemed downright over the top.
A priest from the Heretic Extermination Order, guiding the group in Noah's stead, finally couldn't contain himself and asked:
"Who are you people?"
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