It was in front of the inn door left open by the administrator.
A figure wearing a hood appeared outside.
The sight seemed oddly familiar.
Upon closer inspection, it looked like one of the people who had been watching him suspiciously when he entered the city.
Enkrid looked at him indifferently.
The administrator, without turning around, spoke.
"It's not safe. There are many people out there looking to target important guests. Please, let's go to the mansion now."
"Damn you."
The hooded figure bared his teeth at the administrator.
It didn't seem like they were on good terms.
The man then looked back at Enkrid, but the administrator's gaze was fixed on him, showing no signs of hesitation.
The two sets of eyes locked onto Enkrid, almost as if forcing a choice upon him.
It felt like standing at a crossroads.
But perhaps it wasn't really a crossroads after all.
Was there a risk of something going wrong if he chose poorly, as the boatman had warned?
Enkrid briefly entertained that thought but didn't hesitate.
No matter which path he took, it was his own choice.
He was more curious about what the hooded man had to say.
Looking at the administrator, however, he felt an uncomfortable feeling.
That wasn't enough to make him act rashly, though.
Enkrid patted the administrator's shoulder as he stepped outside.
"I'll talk to him and come by later for dinner."
"General."
The administrator called out, his eyes like those of a snake, but Enkrid was already heading outside, with Luagarne following behind.
Once outside, Enkrid stood before the hooded figure, who then spoke.
"The administrator isn't worried about the city. He's more concerned with filling his own pockets."
His voice was low, soft enough that the administrator wouldn't hear it.
"Why don't you say that more openly?"
Enkrid remarked.
"It's not the time for that. Follow me."
The man quickly turned and began walking, without any hesitation.
They entered a narrow alleyway, and even though the sun had risen, the alley was still dark and gloomy.
It was winter, so the air was cold, but there seemed to be a chill that came from deeper within the alley.
Despite the eerie and unsettling atmosphere, Enkrid followed the hooded figure without hesitation.
"Hurry up!"
The man urged, and Enkrid complied, picking up the pace.
"That way's dangerous!"
The administrator shouted from behind, but Enkrid ignored him and kept walking.
After some time, the uneasy feeling returned.
It was as though someone was watching them, but the source was impossible to pinpoint.
"Don't you feel like something's watching us?"
Enkrid asked as they walked.
His pace was fast but steady.
Luagarne puffed up his cheeks and answered.
"No."
Was it just his heightened senses, or was it the strange atmosphere in the city?
It was hard to say.
"Damn."
The man leading them suddenly stopped.
The alleyway widened as they walked, enough for five people to walk side by side.
As they passed through this broader path, they reached an open area resembling a plaza.
There were a lot of people, and seeing this, the man stopped walking.
Enkrid grabbed the hooded man's cloak and asked.
"A trap? Are you perhaps a member of the cult?"
The man removed his hood and answered.
"I'm a lord!"
Why was a lord involved here?
The man was in his thirties with light brown hair.
He quickly scanned the surroundings.
"The situation's gotten bad. We'll clear the way. Let's escape."
As the man who claimed to be a lord spoke, two more hooded figures appeared from one side.
Both were holding short spears, and their skills didn't seem bad.
If they had proper training, they could probably be recruited into the Border Guard.
However, their footing was a bit shaky as they ran toward them, likely due to exhaustion.
In reality, these two had been keeping watch over people from the Border Guard for days without proper rest.
Seeing the movements of the attackers, they had taken action, but the enemies were faster.
The man who claimed to be a lord had been chased away for some reason, but he didn't want to die here, nor did he want to leave the city.
To escape this situation, he needed help from outside, but avoiding the people who controlled the city was no easy task.
Somehow, they had managed to build their own power and hold out until reinforcements from the Border Guard arrived.
Now, he intended to inform them of the current state of the city and request help in eliminating the culprits behind the city's problems, including prostitution, drugs, and gambling.
But to do that, they needed to get out of the city first, and their legs had to remain functional.
Before that, they needed to gain their trust.
But just as he was about to make his move, the local criminal organizations had already acted first.
He had no idea how they moved so quickly.
Upon reflection, it was clear that they had always been one step ahead of him.
"You're a lord, but you're working with the administrator, aren't you?"
Enkrid said calmly, not knowing the details.
"That bastard isn't on my side!"
The man shouted in frustration, his voice growing louder.
He pulled out a short sword, looking around.
Cling.
Could they escape?
The situation had gone from bad to worse.
"Lord, I'll buy some time."
One of the men holding a spear spoke up.
The lord turned around and saw that more enemies had appeared behind them, blocking the path they had just come through.
They were surrounded.
The number of enemies seemed to exceed a hundred.
At the center of the group were three individuals, all exuding an oppressive presence as they stared at the lord and the two from the Border Guard.
One was a beast-man with a missing ear, another was a hybrid fairy with a twisted face and crooked nose, and the third was a seated female swordsman.
The female swordsman, in particular, stood out, wearing armor that accentuated her full chest.
Her red, slightly curled hair and mischievous smile made her appear both charming and hard to look away from.
She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, but her figure and smile combined into a captivating aura.
"Lord, where do you think you're going? That man and the frog over there look like my guests."
The beast-man with the missing ear spoke.
He was the notorious Wind Blade, a man who ruled the city.
He wore a scimitar at his waist, which, when drawn, made a sound like the wind, a name he earned because it could cut through anything swiftly.
In this world, it was normal for people to get nicknames once they gained a certain level of fame.
The fairy next to him sneered at Enkrid, who returned the glare.
The fairy had a twisted face due to using poison incorrectly in his youth.
Ever since, he would react with disdain to anyone he deemed too handsome.
If he saw someone like Enkrid, he'd probably want to hurt him or poison him to satisfy his bitterness.
"Wow, you're handsome."
It was the voice of the woman wearing provocative armor that revealed her shoulders and cleavage.
She had learned a peculiar spell as a child, one that used her body and smile to deceive others.
Now, she was attempting to weave this enchantment, laying the groundwork for it.
All she needed was for the other person to be drawn to her, whether it be her body or face.
She noticed that Enkrid was looking at her without much expression.
His gaze was somewhat indifferent, but as long as he was looking, her spell would take effect.
She was confident in it.
"You three!"
The lord shouted in surprise as he looked at them.
It was no wonder. These three had fought each other fiercely, declaring one another as enemies, didn't they?
They had been engaged in bloody battles for control of the city, yet here they were, now gathered in one place, seemingly waiting for him.
"You're not really my type," the woman said, sticking out her tongue.
Despite being an enemy, she found them quite cute.
The lord shook his head rapidly, feeling as though his mind was slipping away for a moment.
"No, this won't do. I'll open a path for you, but return to Border Guard and inform them about the situation in the city. I've heard General Abnaier is there. If it's him, he will know what's going on here and will not turn a blind eye."
The lord spoke with resolve.
He was prepared to give his life here, but he would make sure that the filthy bastards who had taken control of this city would pay.
His mind was firm, and he drew his sword.
"I will die here. This is all I can do with my will. May the goddess of luck aid Cross Guard and show mercy to the people."
Lugarne, listening nearby, thought that these people's intelligence was truly lacking.
'It seems no one knows who Enkrid is.'
Enkrid had a similar thought.
The same went for the bandit leaders or whoever they were.
None of them knew who the person standing before them was.
"You're not bad at this, are you? Why not stay here? I'll take you under my wing. From now on, you can call me your master."
The Beastkin named Wind Blade spoke.
Enkrid regarded him as no more than a squire.
In truth, that was a generous assessment.
Despite the Beastkin's unique physical abilities, he still couldn't surpass that level.
The three who had taken control of the city were surprisingly weak.
Was there something more to them?
Was it just a numbers game?
It didn't seem that way either.
There was a man claiming to be a lord beside him, so he could just ask.
If everything was stemming from a power struggle within the lord's faction, he had no intention of taking anyone's side.
However, there had been those who tried to kill him and those who had tampered with the food.
He would have to take action against them.
Enkrid raised his right hand and asked,
"Who was it that tampered with the food and threatened the restaurant owner?"
It was clear from his calm demeanor that he wasn't acting out of fear or tension.
The three crime lords controlling the city furrowed their brows. What was he thinking?
"So what if I know?" The Half-Elf muttered with a twisted smile, which looked more like a childish pout than a grin.
Of course, her appearance was hardly beautiful.
"Don't mess with food."
Enkrid spoke, his voice calm but stern.
"I don't want to."
The Half-Elf said, waving her hand.
From below, a specially crafted needle shot toward Enkrid's eyes.
The needle, though small, was sharp like a blade.
The throw was expertly executed, aiming for a tiny target, no easy feat.
"Watch out!" the lord shouted.
Enkrid quickly unsheathed the short sword that Eitri had given him, swishing it in front of him as if swatting away a fly.
Cling.
The two thick needles hit the blade and fell to the ground.
No one there could figure out exactly how it had happened, but it was simple.
The trajectory of the needles was easy to track, and by aligning his blade with their path, he simply intercepted them.
There was no need for precise technique or elegance in the move.
As Enkrid swiped away the needles, he looked ahead.
He saw low buildings blocking his path, and beyond them, the clear blue sky.
The weather was lovely, with no clouds in sight—a crisp winter day.
The air felt cold, and though the sky was clear, the city itself was anything but.
The stench and filth littered the streets.
"Have you heard of the Gilpin Guild? A member came here, but we lost contact with them."
Enkrid casually remarked as he gazed at the sky.
"...They capture people sometimes," the lord answered, cautiously eyeing Enkrid.
Enkrid wasn't troubled by the situation.
In fact, he saw it as an opportunity.
He had been planning to intervene anyway, and now, with all of them gathered in one place, it wasn't an unwelcome turn of events.
"Lugarne."
"I understand. I'll stand guard."
Lugarne would protect the lord, as instructed.
As Enkrid began to walk forward, Wind Blade drew his weapon.
Swish.
The wide blade gleamed in the light.
Its speed was its specialty, cutting through the air faster than the wind itself.
Enkrid didn't even give it much attention.
He briefly scanned it before turning his gaze outward.
The Half-Elf had six poisoned darts, three in each hand, and was preparing to throw them. It was a technique she had honed over her lifetime.
The woman in armor, still smiling, stepped forward.
She was already activating her enchantment, using her body and smile to captivate her target.
This was a technique that had never failed her before, and she approached Enkrid as though to welcome him.
With each step she took, her chest swayed, and any man would have found it difficult not to be distracted.
"Wow, your face is..."
She didn't finish her sentence.
As she stepped forward, Enkrid swiftly swung his sword, and with a clean motion, split the woman's head in two.
At that very moment, the poisoned darts came flying toward him.
Enkrid noticed that only the tips of the darts were poisoned.
The Half-Elf, proud of her white, slender fingers, never used gloves or equipment for poisoning.
She preferred to expose her fingers, taking pride in their beauty, and thus always poisoned only the tips of her darts.
Enkrid effortlessly caught the incoming darts, avoiding the poisoned ends.
To the naked eye, it would have appeared as though he had done remarkable, but for Enkrid, it was an easy task.
They could slice through anything, even thin air.
This wasn't a fight; it was a massacre.
Enkrid snatched the darts out of the air, and the Half-Elf froze, speechless.
Wind Blade, reacting instinctively, lunged forward, swinging his sword horizontally.
Enkrid effortlessly raised his sword vertically, cutting through Wind Blade's weapon and cleaving his chest wide open.
His heart, still beating, could be seen in the gaping wound.
Lugarne briefly turned her head away from the gruesome sight.
She had torn hearts out with her own hands before, but seeing a heart still beating was a different kind of discomfort.
"Do you want to keep going?"
Enkrid asked, after effortlessly dispatching the two.
"Kill him!" The Half-Elf shouted in terror.
Most of the ones who charged at Enkrid had no idea who he was.
Many were also under the influence of drugs.
Enkrid swung his sword again.
The first attacker had his skull split open.
The second had his face crushed by a punch, leaving no trace of his eyes, nose, or mouth.
Several more attacks followed, but it wasn't even a fight.
A few drugged fools tried to fight back, but they were no match for Enkrid.
The others, scared, began to flee.
It took only five strikes to clear the area of anyone who dared to charge at him.
Enkrid casually wiped the blood from his blade.
The weight of the blade had increased since the last time, and it felt sharper, heavier with each strike.
It was a joy to wield now, much improved by Eitri's craftsmanship.
"Now, you said you were the lord?" Enkrid asked, turning back.
The man standing there was wide-eyed, almost drooling in disbelief.
"Ah, um, yes. I'm the lord," he replied, his face frozen in shock.

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