How many nobles were in the Capital?
Not all of them were in their right minds.
It was something that could be figured out with just a little thought.
"How about it? If you come to my territory, I can personally grant you the title of Protector of the Estate along with a manor…"
It started with that man, Baron Somerset.
Encrid responded calmly, trying to be as gentle as possible.
"I'm not interested."
It was a situation he had never experienced before. Had he ever received this much attention from nobles in his life?
Encrid simply expressed his disinterest to push the man away.
"Ah, uh…"
Baron Somerset was at a loss for words, mainly due to the firm tone that shut down his proposal. He didn't realize that this was Encrid's way of being polite.
Still, deep down, he couldn't help but feel slighted.
He knew Encrid was incredibly skilled, but could anyone really live their life wielding just a sword?
Everyone needed a background.
If you were to rise in the Capital in the future, wouldn't that be the way to go?
It was natural to see the world based on what you knew, so Baron Somerset thought this was the logical thing.
"Well then, I'll be off."
Encrid gave a light nod and turned to leave. The young boy could see his master trembling with frustration.
And yet, the hero who saved the nation looked so impressive as he walked away.
'So cool.'
He says what he needs to and then walks away, regardless of whether the person is a noble or not. How many kids wouldn't admire such a figure?
That admiration extended to others as well.
There was even a group among the palace maids who debated whether Encrid or Jaxon had the more handsome face.
Meanwhile, Audin, Rem, Dunbachel, and Teresa were also frequently mentioned in such conversations.
Encrid had already made a name for himself among noblewomen in the past. But now, it was beyond that. There wasn't a noble in the Capital who didn't know of Encrid and the name of the Mad Company. Some even brought their daughters to meet him. Encrid, out of respect for Krang, met with them all.
"This is my daughter."
She was quite pretty. Her shyly bowed head made her seem pure.
Encrid glanced at her exposed arm and thought to himself that she probably couldn't even hold a rapier properly. So, he declined.
"I'm busy."
"Busy with what?"
"Training."
Though some polite words were exchanged, the essence of the conversation was just that.
If some brought their daughters, others suggested he become their heir.
"I have no children."
This particular man looked to be around seventy, a scrawny old fellow. He claimed to have never spent his wealth recklessly, and said that siding with the King this time was the biggest gamble of his life.
After dealing with him and sending him off, Jaxon approached and said,
"He has six children, but apparently, he wasn't satisfied with any of them and kicked them all out."
He was the stingiest of the stingy, a noble who only ate black bread instead of white, even in his own home.
This man had come offering his entire fortune.
No, he even brought the deed with him, saying all Encrid had to do was stamp it.
But Encrid didn't have a seal. After all, he was a commoner.
A few more nobles came after that as well.
At least it was only the more notable figures coming to visit, excluding the nobodies and hangers-on.
Still, there were some who stood out.
"Let me make it clear beforehand, I'm not a man of Aspen, and this is just a job. So, there's no need to cut me down or beat me up. My only task is to deliver their message and get your reply."
The man was sweating buckets under the shade of a tree, clearly nervous.
He appeared to be a sheriffworking in the Capital.
Although he was a lower-ranked noble, he made additional income through various commissions like this one.
Judging by his attitude, pleading for understanding as a mere messenger, it seemed like he had some kind of vulnerability.
Encrid nodded.
"They've promised you a rank above Duke in Aspen."
Was the civil war truly just Naurillia's problem? No, it wasn't. Every surrounding nation had an interest in it.
Aspen being the first to make such an offer was, in a way, predictable.
What kind of person was Encrid?
Was he someone loyal to his country? Or was there something he desired?
"They also said that, if you wish, a marriage with the Princess could be arranged."
Encrid began to feel concerned about the sheriff's dehydration.
The man was sweating so much that it had begun to pool.
"I refuse."
"Ah, yes. I understand."
The sheriff didn't even seem to consider persuading him further.
Piles of gold, beautiful women.
This and that had begun to grate on his nerves after a while.
"Why don't you just cut off a few of their arms? That'll stop them from coming."
Rem advised. Encrid was so fed up that the suggestion actually sounded appealing.
"Wouldn't it be better to just ignore them?"
Ragna chimed in. It was a softer approach, but the problem was that these noble brats didn't come alone—they always brought servants or maids with them.
Do nobles ever suffer? It's the servants who endure the hardships.
Seeing a young kid trembling as they looked for him made it hard to just ignore them entirely.
"Haha, all you need is prayer to calm your mind. You can pray with those who come, too, Brother Captain."
If the first mention of prayer was genuine, the latter suggestion to pray together could very well involve fists and kicks.
Encrid thought this method was no different from Rem's approach.
Dunbachel and Teresa had no interest in such matters.
Jaxon secretly thought it would be easier to just kill them quietly, but he didn't say it out loud.
He had a good sense of judgment.
Esther, on the other hand, simply watched with lazy eyes.
"You should be cautious since you've caught the eye of a demon."
When she said that, Encrid's reaction stirred something inside her.
"Strong, right?"
He was asking about the demon's power.
"Wouldn't be easy to win?"
He seemed to be looking forward to fighting the demon.
"You lunatic."
Esther, momentarily turning into a human, spat out the insult before transforming back into a panther.
She muttered to herself, but if she didn't voice it aloud, the frustration would linger in her chest.
To maintain the order of the world of spells, such frustrations couldn't be allowed to build up.
Encrid wasn't the type to scold her for suddenly saying something like that anyway.
In the end, Encrid decided to deal with the nobles on his own terms without taking anyone's advice.
Though he was still annoyed, he even considered escaping to the Border Guard for a while just to get away from it all.
"It's been a while. The hero who saved the nation, the Demon Slayer, and the Border Guard's…"
"That's enough, thank you."
It was someone familiar. Encrid knew that if he forgot this woman's name again, her beautiful face would twist into that of an enraged ghoul, so he spoke up.
"Lady Visar."
"…You haven't forgotten my name, have you?"
"How could I?"
Encrid wasn't particularly known for his eloquence, but he was skilled enough to navigate situations without directly saying her name.
Kin Visar, often hailed as the most beautiful woman in the Capital, couldn't press the matter any further.
After all, she wasn't alone, and the man before her had left no openings in his words.
There was no way she could recklessly demand him to say her name aloud.
It would be improper, and it would lower her dignity as a noblewoman.
'It feels like he might have forgotten, though.'
Still, she had her suspicions.
It was a reasonable doubt. Encrid had, after all, forgotten her name amidst the repetitive interactions of the day.
But why had she come all the way to the training ground?
As she stood there watching, five attendants and an old man approached behind her.
"I hear you've had a lot of troublesome visitors lately?"
It was Marquis Visar.
Kin bowed her head and stepped aside.
"There's no need to vacate the area, and I won't take much of your time."
Marquis Visar was an efficient man by nature. He disliked wasting time.
That was what set him apart from the other visitors. Rather than sending attendants and maids, he came with his own people and entered the training grounds himself. In front of Rem and the others, the Marquis spoke.
"I've heard you've reached a respectable age. Marry Kin."
Encrid wasn't a fool. Even Krais acknowledged his sharp mind. Kin, without showing any embarrassment, bowed her head. The Marquis, too, seemed to think there was nothing wrong with his proposal.
"My title of Marquis will pass to Marcus."
Considering everything he said, it was clear what the offer meant.
Kin Visar was a symbol.
A symbol that would tie Encrid to the Visar family.
What was the benefit of that?
Once the honors ceremony began, the Visar family would be elevated to a Duke.
They had enough influence, and Marcus Visar was one of the key figures who made significant contributions in the recent battle.
If he became the head of the Centerpole family, the title of Duke would be certain.
Align yourself with the only Duke house in the Kingdom.
Do whatever you desire.
And there will be no coercion.
This was the hidden meaning behind the proposal.
Marquis Visar was no fool either. He had no intention of forcing or pressuring Encrid into anything.
All he asked was for their connection to grow deeper, promising the Kingdom's most beautiful woman and anything else he might need in return.
That was the Marquis' proposal.
He could have offered any other daughter instead of Kin, but he didn't.
Kin Visar was his gesture of respect.
Even Krang would have found the offer bold enough to make him think, 'What if?'
Encrid stared at the Marquis for a moment before turning his gaze toward Kin Visar.
Daughters of noble families were often bound by arranged marriages. It was an encouraged practice in their society.
But was it something enjoyable? Was it fun?
Encrid didn't know Kin Visar very well. But he did see her as a person, not just a woman. They'd spoken a few times, briefly.
From what he'd seen, Kin Visar didn't seem like someone who wished to live as the lady of a grand house.
His next words could be considered rude, but Encrid did what he always did.
When had he ever lived holding back what he needed to say for the sake of politeness?
"What's your dream?"
So he asked.
Kin Visar, who had been expressionless, looked at Encrid.
She was a symbol. Just a subject of an arranged marriage. That was all. He didn't need to harbor any affection for her, and she didn't need to do anything.
But what dream? It was an inappropriate question for the situation.
"Don't you have a dream? Something you want to do?"
Kin Visar was taken aback. She also thought,
'This guy is truly unpredictable.'
Marquis Visar said nothing. He wasn't one to show his emotions.
Was she allowed to answer?
"I think you do."
Although born into a noble family, she hadn't lived her life confined to the household. She had things she wanted to do. But this wasn't something to say in front of the head of her family.
In the Visar family, the Marquis' word was law. If he said to marry for the sake of the family, then that's what she had to do.
"My dream is to stand alongside the hero who saved the nation."
Kin gave the standard answer. No one said anything. The Marquis simply watched in silence.
"Something you actually want to do."
Encrid asked again in his sharp, curt way, and Kin began to sweat. It felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff.
"Go ahead and answer."
The Marquis said, staring directly at Encrid. Only then did Kin carefully speak.
"I'm interested in working with gemstones, and I've been doing it on a small scale."
"For something small, I hear you've sought out a fairly sizable trading company."
That was the Marquis speaking. He already knew.
Kin Visar had a remarkable eye for gemstones. She also influenced the fashion and trends in the Capital.
This was due to her innate sense and the refined taste she'd developed growing up in the Visar household.
She was also a natural talent, even deserving to be called a genius.
"Is that what you want to do?"
The Marquis asked. Kin didn't know how to answer here. As she hesitated, Encrid spoke on her behalf.
"Why bother asking? You're just being stubborn because you're old. Stop being so stubborn and stop pestering her."
Most of the attendants gasped.
Hadn't he crossed the line?
But no one dared to challenge him.
Encrid alone was fearsome, but looking at those standing behind him, it was clear why no one would dare.
Rem was grinning as he licked his axe blade.
"That's disgusting."
Ragna scolded him.
"Don't mind it."
The two immediately started bickering.
"So, I'm being stubborn because I'm old?"
The Marquis blinked as he asked, devoid of any trace of humor. It might have felt intimidating, but compared to Count Molsen, who had been possessed by a demon, this was nothing.
"A sword is all I need to prove myself."
Encrid replied.
That was the end of the conversation. Unlike the other nobles, there was no reason to entertain him further. Encrid genuinely believed that.
Be it Marquis Visar or Somerset, they were all the same.
"Well then."
They were just annoying people interrupting his training.
As Encrid bowed his head politely and turned away, the Marquis glared at him for a moment before turning his head as well.
He seemed quite upset.
"Still, he's a Marquis, you sure it's fine? Or should I just slice him up?"
Rem suggested again, dragging the edge of his hand across his neck in a slicing motion. Encrid ignored him.
"It's a waste of time."
He meant it.
There were so many new things he had learned and realized, and they made his body itch with excitement.
And it made sense, considering that Encrid hadn't had any talent with the sword when he first picked one up.
But then, he suddenly awakened Will, applied it, and even managed to mimic Ragna's sword techniques.
Now that he could feel the changes in his body, every time he swung his sword, it was ten times more fun than before.
Of course, to someone like Pel, who didn't know any better, Encrid just looked like a lunatic obsessed with training.
After seeing Kin Visar's appearance, Pel glanced at Encrid, thinking,
'Is that guy's body really made of two stones and a stick?'
"Is he a eunuch?"
So he asked Dunbachel next to him.
"I think so too. He doesn't even fall for me."
Pel looked at Dunbachel, who smelled like old sweat, and thought to himself:
'Even I wouldn't fall for you.'
The beast-woman beside him really hated bathing.
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