There was no need for pretense, no intention to beat around the bush—only a straightforward approach.
Shinar blinked her signature green eyes.
The wind blew, pushing and tossing her golden hair about.
Her hair scattered into the air like delicate strands of gold, only to gently settle back in place.
Even on ordinary days, she was often described as possessing inhuman beauty.
But now, looking at her, it seemed unfathomable that such a breathtaking face could exist in the world.
Even among fairies, beauty like hers was likely a rarity.
Despite the comfort of their journey, it was impossible for cleanliness to be a priority, yet her skin bore not a single blemish.
Enkrid himself had naturally flawless skin, but hers seemed to emit a glow.
In fact, her skin even reflected sunlight.
If Krang captivated people's attention with his speeches and Enkrid with his swordsmanship, Shinar could undoubtedly draw gazes with her beauty alone if she wished.
She gazed at Enkrid with a thoughtful expression before speaking.
All three of them—Enkrid, Audin, and Shinar—continued walking as she spoke.
The sound of their steady footsteps was joined by her voice, which alone felt like the melody of a finely played instrument.
"My name is Shinar Kiraheis. A fairy knight born and raised in a noble fairy family. Yes, I wish to join your knight order."
Shinar did not elaborate on how her life was limited or how she might one day be forced to leave the order, nor did she mention the weight of the responsibilities before her.
Watching Enkrid, she had learned not only to dream but also to never give up.
What else had she learned from him?
This man never made premature judgments about the future. Instead, he lived fully in the present moment, in the now, in today.
Shinar embraced this lesson wholeheartedly.
She chose to savor the present, the moment, the here and now.
At that moment, she couldn't bear to be away from Enkrid's side.
"I don't need the Vice-Captain position. My current position is sufficient," she added.
There was no room left for Enkrid to tell her she could leave if she wanted.
Shinar had spoken her desires plainly.
There was no reason for the knight order to refuse her, and Enkrid felt the same way.
The fairy who enjoyed her playful jokes, Shinar, had once been reduced to near dust yet still tried to save him.
When she had activated her Will and faced death that day, Enkrid knew he would never forget her.
Recalling that moment, Enkrid made a silent vow:
If there was ever anything she desired, anything within his power to give, he would repay her for all the help she had given him—both then and now.
With that resolve came a sudden realization.
"Wait, what did you mean by 'current position'?"
What other role could she be referring to besides Vice-Captain?
"The commander's fiancée, the mother of your future children—that's more than enough, isn't it?"
Without a hint of a smile, Shinar's playful jab landed perfectly.
Beside them, Audin let out a soft chuckle.
Enkrid wanted to scold him as a commander—who dared to laugh at him?—but held back, for he too found himself letting out a small laugh.
"It's good to see you smile," Shinar said.
A faint smile appeared on her face, and it seemed as though that alone could bring some men on the continent to their knees.
They wouldn't merely fall for her—they'd succumb to a lovesickness so profound it might be termed an epidemic.
Afterward, Enkrid turned to Audin and asked him the same question:
"What is it you want?"
Audin clasped his hands together briefly in prayer, as if seeking guidance from his Father above.
Then, turning his gaze to the distance, he spoke:
"I wish to spread the teachings of the Holy Father. To protect the unfortunate. To bring happiness amidst sorrow. To care for orphaned children. To meet those whom I must guide to the Father's side. How about that? All of this, I believe, is possible if I stay by your side, Captain.
That is why I am here.
It is the will of the Holy Father, after all.
Above all, I believe I am fulfilling my duty in my current position."
The way Audin spoke, with such eloquence and conviction, made it clear he might very well be the most articulate member of the entire unit—excluding Krais and Enkrid himself.
Speaking of Krais, he too had joined the knight order, ostensibly for easier protection and more straightforward affiliations.
"Pleasure!
Salons!
Cities!
Ladies!
Gold!"
Krais summed up his reasons for remaining in the order in just five words.
His dreams were both clear and unabashed.
The knight order traditionally accepted only those who proved themselves through strength.
Yet exceptions had been made—like the one with strange eyes, who wasn't even human.
Or the witch they had taken in.
Enkrid saw no reason to adhere to convention.
"Fine, understood," he said with a nod.
Thus, the knight order grew even more peculiar, but it didn't matter.
They hadn't formed the group for appearances anyway.
The Madmen Knights Order
The name, at least, was well chosen.
Enkrid resumed walking, leading them across open plains and up mountain trails.
After the talk of dreams, Audin seemed unusually talkative.
"The weary, the downtrodden—they will find strength in the Father when they seek Him.
Just as you do for those behind you, Captain."
It sounded remarkably similar to Enkrid's vow to protect those who stood behind him.
"Why did you follow me?" Enkrid asked.
Audin gave a sheepish smile.
Even if he had aspirations, there was no compelling reason for him to tag along.
Unlike the time they had traveled to the capital, this seemed more like a deliberate choice to escape some unseen prison of despair.
Whatever the reason, his determination to join had been clear.
And now, his reluctance to answer revealed there was indeed something he was hiding.
Enkrid didn't press him further.
There was no point in forcing someone to reveal what they didn't wish to share.
They continued northward for two days, the journey growing slightly monotonous.
Training and sparring passed the time, but no monsters or beasts appeared.
The path they traveled wasn't officially secured, but strangely, there was little to see.
Audin eventually broke the silence, sharing part of what had been on his mind.
"Do you know what defines a Saint?"
"In the Church, they're a symbol of sacredness," Enkrid replied.
"Such cynicism, Captain."
"Is it wrong?"
Shinar chimed in, agreeing that the Church had its fair share of corruption and decay.
"Saints are those truly born with divine grace.
Men are called Saints, women Saintesses.
The Church recognizes them accordingly."
There were indeed a few such individuals within the current Church.
"I once knew a boy called a Saint."
It was a story that piqued their interest, perfect for passing the time during their journey.
Audin began recounting his tale.
"My name is Fildin.
And you are?"
It was autumn then, too.
Under a tree, whose fallen leaves had formed a soft seat of brown, sat a boy.
The boy didn't need a second glance to reveal how weary he was.
Audin had returned to the monastery after a long time.
It was a secluded corner, a place he had often retreated to as a child for solitary prayer and contemplation.
There, he encountered the boy.
The boy's dark brown hair appeared almost black, and his dull brown eyes were strikingly lifeless.
The exhaustion in his gaze made him seem far older than his years, like an old man battered by life's hardships.
His casual and abrupt manner of speech somehow didn't feel out of place.
Audin replied gently, "My name is Audin Fumrei."
"Oh, you're from the monastery?"
"I stayed there for a time..."
"Are you a martial artist monk?"
It referred to the individuals commonly called monks.
It was a natural question, as the monastery where Audin had stayed also trained martial artists.
Looking at Audin's physique, it was a question bound to arise.
"Yes, I was."
"Not anymore?"
"I now work as an inquisitor of heresy."
It was a brief leave, a journey taken to soothe an uneasy heart.
"To catch heretics? Ah, I see."
"And what do you do, Brother Fildin?"
"Me? I make medicine."
He wasn't an alchemist.
Anyone could tell that.
He didn't give off that kind of aura at all.
"I spend all day underground making medicine.
It feels like I'm dying, but that's how I live."
Fildin was a saint affiliated with the Temple of Abundance, which symbolized the Earth Mother.
When the god of the scales, who governed the sun and moon, split into Radiance and Divine Light, and Darkness of the Underworld, the god of Abundance embraced the Underworld.
So the teachings of the holy texts said.
And the god of Abundance, said to preside over fallen fruit, always cared for orphans.
Separate from that, eight-tenths of the divine power potions supplied across the continent came from the Temple of Abundance.
While priests of the war god dismissed potions as unnecessary—believing a mere spit could heal wounds—the priests of Abundance thought otherwise.
They produced and supplied countless potions.
Incidentally, the war god's apostles weren't actually taught to use spit for healing.
Their doctrine was about tempering the body so it could heal itself.
That philosophy birthed the art of regeneration.
"You don't seem happy," Audin noted.
"Happy? Why would I be? It's not even fun," Fildin replied, conjuring a glow of divine light at his fingertips.
It was truly remarkable.
To manifest divine power so easily and visibly with just a simple movement.
"Hmm."
Audin let out a quiet sound of surprise.
Then, from afar, came voices calling, "Brother Fildin! Brother Fildin!"
Someone was looking for him.
"You'd better go back," Audin said.
"I don't want to be a saint."
That response carried an air of dissonance, like a broken instrument trying to play, but at the time, Audin paid it little mind.
After all, he had once hated monastic life too.
It had been stifling and suffocating.
That was when he was about twelve or thirteen.
He couldn't explain why, but he just wanted to escape.
Not that he disliked the holy texts, the teachings, or the monastic life—they were all fine.
It was just a vague feeling.
Was Fildin feeling the same way?
And even if he wasn't, what could Audin do about it?
Nothing.
As an inquisitor and a mere believer, he couldn't question or criticize anything.
At this time, Audin hadn't even mastered divine power.
Fildin, on the other hand, wore pristine white robes made of fine cloth.
His hair was neat, his body well-nourished, though he looked tired.
He seemed slightly frail, but if he picked up some stones and trained, he'd likely grow stronger.
That, however, was none of Audin's business.
"Wouldn't it be better to just die?"
Audin dismissed it as the impulsive words of a child.
He chose to think of it that way because, at the time, standing against the doctrine was unimaginable for him.
Soon, those looking for Fildin arrived and scolded the saint gently, warning him not to wander off and to stay put.
Audin watched from a distance, then turned away.
Their encounter had been brief, but it may have been the seed of Audin's later distrust toward the church.
Later, Audin heard news about the boy named Fildin by chance.
"Saint Fildin is dead. They say he died while treating a plague."
A plague?
Where?
Audin had never heard of such a thing.
Apparently, it had struck a rural town, and Saint Fildin had sacrificed himself to eliminate it.
At the time, Audin was returning from capturing someone suspected of heresy.
Struggling with questions of right and wrong, he decided to visit the town Fildin had saved.
But when he arrived, no one there knew the name Fildin.
"A plague? Oh, a few people got sick, but they recovered quickly."
That was the end of it.
Fildin's story didn't exist there.
Should Audin have pursued the matter further?
He should have.
Does he regret it?
He does.
But the dark despair that engulfed him at the time had kept him from acting.
Still, one doubt gnawed at him like a storm in the darkness, tormenting him over and over again.
"Why did you pretend not to know? You knew I would die. That the divine power would drain me until I withered away—you knew."
He had dreamed that nightmare countless times.
In it, Fildin wept tears of blood and resented Audin.
Now, in the present, Audin stared at Fildin's apparition, visible only to him, and spoke.
"I don't know if that boy's death was an accident or something else, but with the doubts that have grown into monsters within me, the Saintess's appearance feels far from coincidental."
Enkrid spoke, borrowing Audin's words.
"You think it's a revelation from the Lord?"
Audin replied with a faint smile.
Even now, he could still see Fildin's specter.
"Yes, I do."
Audin wanted to stay by Enkrid's side, but he had no intention of breaking his vow.
"Since you abandoned me, why bother upolding the vow now?"
Fildin's phantom accused him.
Even if that weren't true, Audin would not break the vow.
If this mission required his life, if even a small contribution was needed, he would gladly give it.
Unlike Enkrid, who had joined with a light heart, Audin was profoundly serious.
At this moment, Audin was confronting his faults, his failures, and his sins.
No matter how it ended, Audin resolved to act according to his beliefs.
"Let's go," Enkrid said.
Enkrid felt the weight of Audin's determination.
What could he do for him?
Nothing.
But if what Audin suspected turned out to be true, and their enemies stood in their way, Enkrid wouldn't hesitate to draw his sword, no matter who or what they were.
There was no need for him to summon great resolve or even mentally prepare himself.
That was just how Enkrid lived and had always lived.
This was who he was.
Audin knew that well, which was why he had come along.
If anything went wrong, Enkrid would protect him.
And if the time came, Audin might have his own role to play.
When he first arrived at Border Guard, he couldn't even imagine stepping out into the world again.
Yet now, he had left the capital twice.
Once to fight, and once to escape the prison of despair he had built for himself.
Audin walked, savoring the scent of autumn all around him.
If this were to be his last outing, he wanted to enjoy it to the fullest.

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