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Chapter 582 - Chapter 582 - Even If Hidden, It Cannot Be Concealed

Chapter 582 - Even If Hidden, It Cannot Be Concealed

Enkrid believed the religious order had erred and thought it irrelevant if they chose to stand against him for not acknowledging their mistakes.

However, things did not turn out that way.

To be precise, it was the one-eyed monk who had once saved Seiki who ensured it didn't.

"I will take responsibility for the monastery from today onward," the monk declared.

Enkrid freed the child who had been confined underground.

The child, having lived in captivity from a young age, appeared more terrified of the current situation.

The boy, trembling and speechless, could only gaze at Enkrid's group with wide, fearful eyes.

From any perspective, Enkrid and his companions were the ones who had seized control through violence.

Enkrid could do nothing about that perception.

Neither Shinar nor Seiki seemed like they'd be the type to comfort the child.

The boy only trusted the one-eyed monk, who had occasionally tended to him while he was imprisoned.

As for the woman who had helped save Seiki, she remained unconscious, still recovering from the beatings she'd received.

Although it wasn't torture, it had been akin to it, punishment dealt to "absolve" her sins.

It wasn't fatal, yet it left her teetering on the edge.

Even so, Seiki's divine essence bestowed her with a faint white glow that helped restore some vitality.

Though not skilled enough to instantly heal injuries, it eased her breathing, a sight everyone witnessed.

As Seiki observed the child clinging to the monk's leg, she commented

"I think he'll take good care of the kid.

There's no need to worry about that child, is there?

That monk risked his life to help me, after all."

Seiki's detachment reflected her pragmatic nature.

She acted by her own principles, caring little for the aftermath—a habit born from her upbringing.

The monk gently patted his bald head and adjusted his worn-out robes before stroking the boy's head.

The child peeked from behind the monk's thin legs, revealing half of his face.

The boy seemed no older than seven or eight.

He wasn't yet a miracle worker or alchemist; he was merely a child with talent, groomed by the Order to one day become a saint.

This alone revealed the Order's true nature—they were breeding children with gifts.

Allowing such a practice to continue was unacceptable.

"We should probably kill them all before leaving," Shinar suggested, addressing the new head of the monastery.

It was rare for her to show interest in others' affairs.

Typically, she was indifferent.

Both Enkrid and Shinar had killed few during their confrontation.

The only casualty had been a man who, in desperation, had attempted to take hostages—a move born of sheer panic.

Enkrid had concealed his intentions, choosing to act through sheer force.

While he had left room for fugitives to escape, no one did.

Later, the one-eyed monk addressed the gathered crowd.

His calm demeanor, even in such a precarious situation, was striking.

Though he had lost an eye, he had gained the opportunity to act as the messenger of divine retribution.

If the Order sought to reclaim its path and follow the light, the monk knew precisely what needed to be done.

He also understood that many within the monastery were merely blind followers of their superiors, not inherently corrupt.

Despite the corruption at the top, there were still those in the Order who remained righteous or sought redemption.

"Humans make mistakes," Enkrid reflected.

He himself had arrived here through a series of errors and failures.

He decided it was futile to dwell on their past mistakes, especially when the monk, now the new head, wished to move forward.

"My name is Noah," the monk introduced himself.

He calmly summarized the events:

"The messenger of God came and rebuked us. I have accepted this truth. The former head, Silma, repented for her sins and atoned with her life."

Though it sounded preposterous, the Order would have no choice but to accept it, given the monastery's collective declaration.

That didn't mean the Order would remain passive, and Enkrid worried about the repercussions.

"Blame it on me, Enkrid of Border Guard," he suggested.

If Noah claimed responsibility, the Order might retaliate with force.

Noah, however, smiled and refused.

"Are you vying for recognition, brother? Even so, I must decline. I lost an eye saving the saint. That is my testimony."

Despite his words, he made it clear that he intended to shoulder the responsibility.

Enkrid, respecting Noah's resolve, left him with a promise:

"Contact Border Guard if trouble arises. If I hear the name Noah, I'll send reinforcements."

It wasn't a casual promise.

Both men understood the weight of those words.

"May your path always be abundant, so hunger never finds you, and may prosperity guard your heart against despair."

Enkrid nodded in acknowledgment.

Noah, meanwhile, outlined his plans for the monastery, intending to fortify it as a stronghold.

"You're bolder than I expected," Enkrid remarked.

Noah chuckled. "Not as bold as you, brother."

After their exchange, Noah extended a warm invitation for Enkrid to return anytime.

"When you visit again, we'll serve you good tea," Noah promised with a smile.

As Enkrid departed, several monks, cowed into submission, muttered their blessings:

"May the toil of gathering the fallen fruit be rewarded."

Enkrid moved swiftly, aware of the long journey back to Border Guard.

Since it was a path they had traveled before, Seiki stepped up as the guide.

She chose the shortest route to minimize detours, regardless of potential monsters along the way.

"You're really good at fighting, huh? I don't think even the monsters where I used to live could stand a chance against you."

"What kind of monsters were there?"

"They breathed fire."

It seemed to be a type of fire lizard monster that had settled in this land after the summoning of the salamanders.

"Alright, if the opportunity arises, I'll kill that one for you too."

Killing monsters was always a thrilling task.

"No, I'll take care of that one. Later. So, I'd appreciate it if you didn't touch it. But if you insist, I won't stop you."

As Seiki replied, Enkrid found himself thinking that the more he conversed with this girl, the more peculiar she seemed.

She clearly had her convictions and insisted on handling her own matters, yet she was surprisingly accepting of things outside her control.

"Alright, then you can kill it."

"Oh, by the way, could you teach me how to use a sword?"

"Sure, why not?"

Enkrid firmly believed in the saying, "You learn by teaching."

Moreover, he considered himself quite talented in teaching.

It wasn't a baseless assumption, either.

He had clawed his way up from the bottom to become a knight.

It was unlikely there were many others who had advanced step by step, experiencing each stage so thoroughly as he had.

Spending considerable time mastering and repeating each level of skill was a rarity.

They said Rionezis Oniac had refined his swordsmanship through rigorous practice—perhaps one day, Enkrid might create a systematic training regimen for knights.

He wasn't just cautiously walking an untrodden path; he had metaphorically touched, sniffed, and even tasted the soil of that path as he advanced.

But that was a matter for the distant future.

For now, such thoughts didn't even cross Enkrid's mind.

Just pressing forward, inch by inch, was exhausting enough.

Becoming a knight wasn't the end; it was a new beginning, with much more to learn, practice, and discover on his own.

"You really are soft on young women, aren't you?"

Shinar commented, having overheard their conversation.

It was a lighthearted jest.

"Sure, let's go with that."

Enkrid brushed it off easily.

Hearing this, Shinar added,

"Once you fall for the charm of older women, you'll never recover."

"Well, if by 'older,' you mean over a century, that's a bit more than just older, don't you think?"

"You fool, that was just a joke."

Enkrid almost asked how old Shinar actually was but decided against it.

Then, Seiki, without a hint of humor, asked,

"You're not popular, are you?"

Enkrid paused for a moment, shaken.

It was the first time anyone had said such a thing to him.

But should he explain to this child just how handsome he was or recount all the people who had pursued him?

That would be an absurdly petty response.

So, he figured it was best to focus on the task at hand.

"Let's start with the basics of border guard training."

Enkrid spoke gently, his tone carrying a subtle expectation, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

"Alright," Seiki agreed, her eyes sparkling as she nodded.

Watching Enkrid fight had piqued her interest, and she thought she might genuinely enjoy learning.

"Bend your knees halfway, let your arms hang down to the ground, and walk like that. Hold your breath to engage your core so your upper body doesn't sway."

"Huh?"

"You'll feel it in your glutes. Spend the entire day walking like this."

"But that'll slow us down."

Would it matter if they were a bit late to the border guard?

Training was far more important.

After all, the lower body was the foundation of all martial arts.

"Begin."

Enkrid picked up the monastery staff he had kept, fortunately not having discarded it yet.

He used it to tap her shoulders and lower back, correcting her posture as he spoke.

"Don't lose your form."

Watching this from behind, Shinar smiled.

She imagined how fun it might be to teach a child this way, a thought that made her smile even more.

Of course, it was a near-impossible fantasy.

Whether she had feelings for Enkrid or not, it wasn't a matter of concern.

"What a fine day," Shinar said.

Rumble.

Just as she spoke, the sky grumbled ominously.

"It looks like it's going to rain," Seiki remarked.

Enkrid nodded and responded,

"Your posture."

Rain or not, the lower body was paramount.

Seiki, through her time in the monastery and her past experiences, had learned to choose her words carefully.

However, her straightforwardness, born from her upbringing in the mountains, still revealed her honest thoughts.

"I guess I was wrong. You're not unpopular. Your face is decent enough."

"This has nothing to do with that."

Enkrid quietly explained the importance of the training, emphasizing that a strong lower body was the foundation of all techniques. Shinar continued to smile.

When the rain finally came, Enkrid remained steadfast, refusing to abandon the training

Soaked in rain, Seiki had no choice but to continue the relentless lower-body training Enkrid had imposed.

Step by step, they trudged towards the Border Guard on foot.

Despite her awkwardness with divine powers, Seiki managed to channel light towards Enkrid's wounds.

Though clumsy and ineffective in actually healing, it was a start.

Unable to guide her further in divine techniques, Enkrid instead encouraged her to focus on physical training, leaving the mastery of her powers to time and effort.

For himself, he revisited his battle with Overdier, replaying every detail in his mind as they marched.

Some days, this process led to sparring with Shinar.

Other days were spent teaching Seiki the basics of weapon handling.

She took to it with remarkable skill, though her interest seemed less in swordsmanship and more in the strength Enkrid had cultivated through years of rigorous training.

When asked why she wanted to learn, her response was simple:

"Being able to fight well is just useful, isn't it?"

While her reasoning was vague, her efforts were anything but.

Seiki absorbed lessons quickly, grasping techniques like blade clashes and wrestling moves after only a few demonstrations.

Her natural talent reminded Enkrid of Ragna in his youth, though her focus on Enkrid's physical conditioning rather than his combat techniques was peculiar.

'Audin would love this,' Enkrid mused as they walked.

In battle with Overdier, Enkrid had calculated every variable—the possible and the impossible, his opponent's moves, his own reach, and even Overdier's likely responses.

Yet, in a decisive moment, he had failed to strike.

Was it due to Overdier's divine defenses, or was it a shortcoming in his own skills?

Perhaps his inability to release his Will explosively at critical moments was the root of his defeat.

But it wasn't just that.

'Overdear was flawless.'

Strength, technique, and willpower—there was no crack in Overdier's armor.

He was the epitome of a holy knight.

Yet the experience forced Enkrid to examine himself.

What was his defining strength?

What could he improve right now?

With tireless introspection, aided by Shinar's sparring sessions, Enkrid found his answer by the time they arrived at the Border Guard.

The solution lay in increasing the volume of Will he could emit in battle.

Though it would take countless repetitions to perfect, the mere discovery of a path forward filled Enkrid with determination.

When they finally entered the Border Guard's stronghold, Krais greeted them with a weary, sarcastic laugh.

"You're insane, you know that?" Krais said, his voice a mix of exasperation and relief.

His laughter carried not only joy but also a hefty dose of reproach.

Enkrid shrugged in response.

"Are you really going to pretend nothing's happened? The Church, the Holy Nation…"

Krais's words hung in the air.

Despite their best efforts to keep certain matters hidden, there were always things that could not be concealed.

The ripples of Enkrid's actions were impossible to suppress.

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