Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 565 - The Field Where the Saint Stayed

Thus, anyone working as a bandit or highwayman in Naurilia wasn't just desperate—they chose thievery and plunder because they preferred it.

And nowadays, no high noble would secretly sponsor bandit gangs to invade another noble's territory.

Such schemes were relics of the past.

"Living as a thief or highwayman means stealing and plundering for a living!"

To declare such a thing was akin to openly praying for death—an earnest plea for someone to sever their head.

In truth, if Krang even suspected banditry, he'd mobilize forces from the kingdom's direct dominion to crush it.

If necessary, he'd even deploy the capital's security forces.

Over time, this had all but eradicated bandit or marauder gangs roaming the kingdom's vast lands.

What remained were the crime guilds parasitizing cities.

Even those, if caught engaging in vile acts like human trafficking, faced certain death.

No excuses or bribes could save them.

And now, kidnapping a child and fleeing to Naurilia?

Could such a wretch be left unpunished?

That was the essence of Krang's message.

"Agreed."

Enkrid promptly aligned himself with Krang's sentiment.

This was why he had gotten involved in the first place.

That was the entire reason.

—The empire and its prominent guests were already forgotten in his mind.—

Overlaying that was Audin's past, adding layers of meaning.

At first, his resolve had been moderate, but it had grown more resolute.

Enkrid extended the thoughts he'd been mulling over during their journey.

Every problem began with a question:

What is necessary to wield a sword effectively?

Adequate strength.

Thus, he had trained his body first.

He sought answers to his questions and acted accordingly.

Even now, he began with a question to resolve the matter:

Where should I start?

This wasn't his first time dealing with such a situation.

"It's been a while since I worked as a bounty hunter."

While he was pursuing kidnappers this time, the task wasn't too different from chasing criminals with bounties on their heads.

In both cases, once the target was on the run, the process was nearly identical:

Should one move unseen?

Yes.

Should one avoid being recognized?

Yes.

If suspicion arose or instincts warned of danger, should one flee?

Yes.

If things went south, should one eliminate all witnesses and move on?

Yes.

See?

The same principles applied.

Thus, Enkrid figured he should approach this task similarly.

"So, my thoughts are... hmm."

He trailed off, glancing at Audin and Shinar.

Seeking the input of his companions was the prudent thing to do—perhaps they had better ideas.

"Feel free to share your thoughts. We know nothing about the kidnappers or the saint's appearance. Our tracking conditions are the worst, but if you have any suggestions, speak up."

Audin responded first.

"I await the guidance of our Lord Father."

He clasped his hands together in prayer and smiled serenely.

His words required no further contemplation.

"This bastard is telling me to figure it out myself."

Enkrid quickly accepted this.

Having heard parts of Audin's past, he now understood.

Audin had experience capturing heretics but lacked any history of crossing continents to track someone.

His heretic hunts had mostly involved locating hidden culprits within city corners.

Once found, his primary task was interrogation—confirming whether they were truly heretical.

In essence, Audin could be a master of coercion, but calling him a skilled tracker or hunter would be a stretch.

"So without divine guidance, shall we leave it be, go home and wait for a sign?"

Enkrid double-checked, just in case.

Certainty never hurt.

"Isn't our leader here with us?"

Audin's honesty was disarming.

In some ways, he was even more carefree than Ragna.

The man would bare his soul, exuding gravitas, only to delegate all tasks to Enkrid.

Yet, lazy wasn't the right word—he prayed, trained, and fulfilled his duties without fail.

Audin seemed deeply committed to his own words about waiting for the right time.

If that moment arrived, Audin would surely be the first to act, regardless of what he stood to lose or gain.

Seeing that resolve, Enkrid let it slide and nodded before turning to Shinar.

"Are you asking me?"

Her voice carried no trace of humor.

The autumn sunlight was warm, the breeze cool, and wildflowers dotted the ground.

Even while walking amidst such scenes, Shinar, attuned to her finely honed senses, detected Enkrid's gaze and spoke.

"If it's just about finding tracks, tracking them down shouldn't be hard."

Not all fairies were naturally swift or skilled trackers, but Shinar was.

The problem lay in the process leading up to finding those tracks—something she had never considered.

In short, Shinar excelled at short-term pursuit but lacked the means to locate a target in the first place.

How could one track without a starting point?

Her abilities were clear: tell her to begin tracking from a specific spot, and she would be the swift fairy and master tracker she was.

But in this situation, she was practically useless.

"Just as I expected."

Honestly, Enkrid hadn't been counting on much, so there was no disappointment.

He remained composed.

The silver lining was that he himself had dealt with many similar cases.

Meanwhile, Shinar remarked on the flowers, identifying their symbolic meanings, and Audin chimed in about the bees and butterflies tirelessly flitting for their nectar.

Both seemed to have lost interest in the mission and had started chatting instead.

Unexpectedly, there seemed to be some unspoken connection between Audin and Shinar.

"You don't seem to desire the nectar yourself," Shinar commented.

Enkrid, still preoccupied with planning, overheard the conversation.

The exchange struck him as profound, like a burning brand in his mind.

"Nectar belongs to the butterflies and bees. If every passing bear-kin claimed it, there'd be nothing left," Audin replied.

"Bears prefer honey hidden in tree hollows."

This exchange resembled a "koan"—a dialogue aimed at uncovering truths.

To outsiders, it might sound nonsensical, but to those seeking meaning, it held profound insights.

Enkrid regarded their exchange as a near-koan, initiated and guided by Shinar.

It was an unusual sight—a fairy seemingly uninterested in others taking the role of teacher to Audin.

In the midst of their dialogue, they walked through a field of Holly Gold, its blossoms radiant under the clear skies, as if sunlight had kissed the earth.

The field was said to be where the Saint once stayed.

"Indeed, bears seek honey stored in trees," Audin mused, his eyes unfocused, his steps never faltering.

"Give the nectar to those who desire it," he murmured again, perhaps quoting scripture.

"Those who hoard the honey are tainted by evil. Scold the greedy ones harshly and send them to the side of the divine."

In this context, being sent to the side of the divine was synonymous with death.

In other words, it meant killing such people.

It was said that three years as a servant to a noble would naturally ingrain proper dining etiquette into a person.

Enkrid himself was the perfect example of that.

After hearing Audin's incessant ritual prayers so many times, he could roughly make sense of their meaning.

"But such deeds should be done by someone qualified," Audin said, his tone devoid of emotion, like a puppet utterly bereft of feeling.

Then he fell silent.

Shinar had likely not spoken out of any sense of responsibility.

She didn't seem to care about Audin's reaction and simply let the matter drop.

Instead, her attention turned to the flower field before them.

"My fiancé, that field of flowers looks like a bed prepared just for us," she remarked with a farie-like jest.

"Perhaps you should take a nap," Enkrid replied absently, intent on finishing the thoughts swirling in his mind.

There was no use trying to decipher Audin's emotions or thoughts at this moment.

What mattered now was doing what needed to be done.

So that's what Enkrid did—he walked through the flower field, his thoughts focused on what was necessary for the pursuit.

'The most important thing is information,' he mused.

Yes, information—where the target was, their condition, appearance, and the like.

The commission had been received, but the pursuers from the Holy State hadn't provided any of that essential information.

That was, to some extent, understandable.

To be honest, those people probably hadn't truly intended to ask for help in the first place.

So, how should he obtain the information he needed?

The solution Enkrid devised came partly from his own experience but also incorporated Krais's input.

After all, they had discussed this before setting out on the mission.

"I gathered some tidbits through the Gilpin Guild," Krais had said.

"Remember that town you visited before?

The one where you told me to threaten the village chief or headman or whatever?

The village where they wanted to name the town walls after the captain?"

Though the events felt like they had happened a lifetime ago, they were hard to forget.

How could anyone forget the gnoll colony created by those cultists?

"What about it?"

"The kidnapper was reportedly heading toward that village."

Their first destination after leaving the Border Guard was thus set.

Even so, Enkrid still had no information on the kidnapper or the saint's appearance or age.

But was there really no way around this?

No, there was.

If he couldn't identify the pursued, he would follow the pursuers.

It was a method he had learned early in his bounty hunting days from a senior hunter.

"Hey, people like us, where do we get our intel and plan our moves? You think we can afford to keep paying the information guild? Forget that nonsense. Instead, memorize the faces of the famous ones. If you spot one of them, just stick to their tail."

It was a revolutionary tracking method.

Any highly coveted target would always have pursuers.

And if the target was completely hidden?

Well, those kinds of people weren't the ones to chase in the first place.

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"Also, if you're chasing alone, are you sure you can take them down?"

What kind of person becomes a fugitive with a bounty on their head?

Could a weakling survive the dangers of traversing lands crawling with bandits, monsters, and magical beasts?

Of course not.

It was an obvious conclusion.

A fugitive with a bounty was likely an expert, almost certainly so.

"Our role is to pick up the scraps. If you want to live long, stick to the hunter's code."

Such teachings were part of his early lessons.

Not that Enkrid had ever adhered to the hunter's code or intended to.

But the rules went something like this:

Don't stake your life on a hunt.

If you can't win alone, work with allies.

Even if the target is visibly bleeding, start with a crossbow or throwing dagger.

These and similar principles made up the code.

The first senior hunter Enkrid had met had been a good person.

The ones who followed, however, were the opposite—people who pushed him forward, saying things like, "If you catch them now, I'll give you seventy percent of the bounty."

Such individuals didn't know the first thing about tracking and relied solely on their brute strength, betraying anyone who became a liability.

It was, of course, a lie.

The moment he got injured, it was clear they'd try to kill him immediately.

"Sorry, sorry, I was just in a hurry," one such hunter had said while pointing a dagger at him after he'd been wounded.

Drawing on those early experiences, Enkrid decided to apply what he had learned: if he couldn't identify the target, he would track the trackers.

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