"Would you be able to guide me to the place where the person is being held?"
Enkrid believed that the person sent from the Gilpin Guild might already be dead.
Krais had said the same.
However, if they were not dead, rescuing them was the right thing to do.
Just before the fight, Enkrid had casually asked the lord of the castle about people being captured, and the lord had said something about it.
Having heard that, Enkrid made this his priority.
After all, saving those who were caught while doing their work, especially if it was for the benefit of the city he was staying in, seemed essential.
"Who are you?" the lord asked, surprised.
Enkrid had never hidden his identity, but he hadn't introduced himself either.
After hearing the question, he realized that no one had ever asked him who he was before.
"Enkrid of Border Guard."
After the brief introduction, the lord couldn't stop staring and then asked, "...The Unyielding Knight?"
No matter how limited the information was, there was no way the lord could not know the Unyielding Knight.
The surprise and disbelief in his eyes were fresh, as if asking, "Why are you here?"
Enkrid nodded in acknowledgment.
The lord's mouth opened wider.
It almost looked like he might drool.
Enkrid thought this, but didn't bother closing his mouth for him.
"No, why are you here?"
A spearman behind the lord asked, his eyes wide open as well.
It seemed they were both wondering, "Why are you here?" Enkrid kindly responded.
"I came because there were reports of heretics causing trouble. But it seems there are other, more complicated issues, and I had to take action when I was threatened."
Enkrid spoke nonchalantly, which was a bit too calm for someone who had just wiped out three major crime guilds, which were the biggest trouble in Cross Guard.
Blood was still dripping on the ground, and the vagrants who had been glancing around were hiding deeper into the alleys.
Only a few of them, with swollen bellies, looked around cautiously.
What happened here?
The lord could answer that question with one word:
'The city's biggest problem just disappeared.'
But seeing the person responsible for it all act so indifferent made him appear even more impressive, at least to the lord and his group.
To Enkrid, however, these people seemed like sparrows living in a cage.
The cage was all they knew, and they were arrogant about it, pecking at each other, believing they were the strongest.
But when an eagle enters the cage, it's only natural they don't stand a chance.
Even a magpie could tame that cage.
That's what Enkrid had observed so far.
Ominous?
Bullshit?'
If he met the scoundrel in his dreams, he'd likely say that.
It would be amusing to see his expression.
But Enkrid also sensed that this wasn't the whole picture.
The snake-eyed official and the lord were both full of strange things.
"Well, the heretics are a problem.
They've been holding secret meetings here and there.
It's been hard to stop them, especially with the crime guilds causing such chaos.
There's even talk of vampires and sightings of werewolves lately," the lord explained, still a bit shaken.
Enkrid understood well enough.
It was a total mess.
The heretic issue was there, but it was being overshadowed by the crime guilds.
On top of that, there were monstrous creatures appearing around the city.
Enkrid didn't bother asking what the militia or the army was doing to protect the city.
The answer would be predictable, and he could hear it later.
"So, do you know where they're being held?" Enkrid asked, still focused on rescuing the person.
He flicked the blood off his sword and looked at the lord with an indifferent gaze.
"The place is guarded by dozens of guild members," the lord replied.
Enkrid placed his hand on the sword grip and stared at him quietly.
There was no need for words.
The lord, recalling how quickly the Wind Blade had been cut down and the three guilds destroyed, spoke again.
"I'll lead the way."
Following the lord's guidance, Enkrid walked through the city.
Passing through the filthy ground and winding alleyways, he spotted a tree growing amidst the muck, with white winter flowers blooming on its branches.
He followed the flowers with his gaze, looking up at the clear blue sky.
When he looked down, he saw drugged individuals collapsed around him, and some unburied bodies.
Amidst this bleak scene, the flowers stood out, growing and revealing their beauty.
It was quite striking.
After a while, the lord led him to an old mansion with stairs slanting down beside it.
It was a tomb and a basement.
In the past, power figures would bury themselves in such large tombs, but now, seeing the broken and unkempt stairs, it looked like an old tomb long forgotten.
"Here?" Enkrid asked.
"Yes," the lord replied.
The bottom of the stairs was dark, filled with a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
Even someone with poor instincts would feel uneasy and avoid it.
Yet Enkrid stepped down without hesitation.
Even if he couldn't see, he could sense the presence of those waiting to ambush him.
They couldn't even hide their breath properly.
"What would Jaxen say?" he thought.
"Those idiots are asking to be stabbed. I'll give them one," he mused, but before he could make a move, someone at the bottom of the stairs spoke first.
"Hey, what are you doing here? Leave, you'll get hurt."
They weren't just hiding their breath; they were talking out loud.
Enkrid couldn't help but be surprised.
What kind of ambushers revealed themselves like that?
What was even more surprising was that they were hiding, yet still worried about him.
"You idiot, don't say anything, they'll find out where we are!" one of them yelled.
"Maybe he just took a wrong turn," another muttered.
There was some bickering from below.
Enkrid wasn't sure if they were foolish or kind-hearted, but he decided they were both.
He didn't believe in dividing people into good or evil when killing them, but he still liked to consider these things.
He didn't have the habit of using his hands when he wasn't feeling it.
Was he just doing whatever felt right?
Yes, he was.
Enkrid didn't deny it.
He acted according to his instincts.
Therefore, he decided to ask a question.
"Have you ever killed someone who couldn't fight back?" Enkrid asked.
"Uh? No," one of them answered.
There was a thud as the person who had answered got a knock on the head.
Then, the sound of a flint striking and a torch being lit followed.
There were five men guarding the stairs.
Three of them looked simple-minded, with faces that seemed too innocent to deceive anyone.
Even if they tried, they couldn't fake their expressions.
And even if they did deceive, Enkrid wasn't someone who would fall for it.
"If you're going to pretend to be dead, what's the point?" Enkrid thought.
One of the five spoke up, "This is the Wind Blade Guild's territory."
Enkrid didn't reply, but stepped forward, closing the distance between them quickly.
"Hey, don't come any closer!"
The man in front of him was startled and tried to draw the dagger from his waist.
Enkrid's hand had already landed on his hand, stopping him.
"If you draw it, you die."
The unspoken rule in the mercenary world was that anyone who drew a weapon had to be ready to face death, and that applied to everyone holding a weapon.
Enkrid's words carried that weight.
One of the five men quickly realized this and nodded.
"I won't draw it."
One of them slapped himself lightly on the forehead.
The conversation was so absurd that he was left speechless.
Yet, it was also a familiar occurrence.
How many times had something like this happened before?
One of his brothers always acted foolishly like this.
Despite that, everyone liked him.
He was slow-witted, but his actions always ended well.
It was a curious thing.
Even now, for that reason, everyone fell silent.
With the atmosphere like this, the group naturally looked to Enkrid for his reaction.
Judging by his gait and demeanor, he wasn't an ordinary person.
But if they let him through easily, they might end up losing their fingers later.
Two of the five had already lost two fingers each, courtesy of Wind Blade.
Considering what he had done, they were lucky their necks weren't severed instead.
"If we let you go, Wind Blade will kill us."
This one seemed to have a grasp of the situation.
He was a wrinkled fellow.
Enkrid removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and said,
"Wind Blade is dead."
The five blinked in unison.
What?
Their expressions mirrored the same disbelief.
The choice was now theirs.
Whether they believed him or not, it was up to them to fulfill their duty as members of the crime guild and face death.
Would they draw their swords?
Four of the five began sweating profusely.
What now?
Do we just let him go?
What if he's lying?
The one they initially thought was a fool turned out to be the leader and decision-maker of the group.
"Let him go."
He spoke, and the other four nodded.
It wasn't so much about trusting Enkrid's words; they simply had no other choice.
If they made the wrong move, Wind Blade might draw his sword like the wind and kill them all.
But what could they do?
For now, they had no other option.
Smart move.
Watching from behind, Luagarne thought the same.
For these men, charging in would only lead to death.
"Well then."
Patting one of them on the shoulder, Enkrid walked past the guards of the underground tomb.
"Here."
The fool even handed him a torch.
Enkrid tilted his head in acknowledgment and accepted it.
Once inside, the place was more spacious than expected.
The structure also seemed remarkably sturdy.
The walls were straight, with barely visible seams.
When he knocked on them, there was no echo, suggesting the stones were solid through and through.
"This doesn't feel like a tomb."
Enkrid voiced his impression.
"It does look that way," Luagarne agreed, adding,
"I heard it used to be a trend among wealthy merchants and nobles to build these kinds of hideouts.
Something about ensuring their survival even if their cities fell?"
It didn't seem like a bad place to take refuge.
Block the entrance, and it would be secure.
Enkrid observed the surroundings and noticed a faint airflow, suggesting some attention had been paid to ventilation.
Even so, the typical musty smell of an underground stone chamber lingered.
The deeper they ventured, the chillier the air became, wrapping around their skin like a cold shroud.
With such temperatures, food stored here wouldn't spoil easily, although summer might pose some challenges.
He didn't explore every nook and cranny of the underground chamber, but it was clear this place would serve well as a refuge in times of war if the entrance were sealed.
Though it seemed expansive at first glance, it wasn't vast enough to get lost in.
Based on his estimation, it was about the size of a large mansion with three or four rooms, maybe more if you included a reception area and kitchen.
Judging by the craftsmanship, it was no ordinary construction.
Could it be the work of dwarves?
Perhaps.
As Enkrid wandered through the underground hideout, he couldn't shake a peculiar feeling.
Ever since approaching the city, he had felt as though someone was watching him.
Whenever he tried to pinpoint the source, nothing was there.
It was too subtle to describe clearly.
He had even thrown a fork to test it earlier, but found nothing.
"Maybe it's just bad intuition."
That could be it.
As he walked, scanning his surroundings, he eventually sensed a presence and moved toward it.
There, inside a stone chamber, was a man bound in shackles.

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