noveldrama
Chapter 394
Chapter 394
There was nothing more to be done in the royal palace, and Crang was bound to get busier.
Which meant it was time for Enkrid to leave as well.
Just before parting ways, he saw Matthew limping along behind Crang, dragging his injured leg. Crang, naturally, berated him mercilessly before sending him off for treatment.
"Wouldn’t it be better to get treated in the royal palace?"
The Marquis of Octo asked Enkrid as he watched Matthew struggle.
He was a man who knew how to take care of people—meticulous, attentive.
And perceptive.
If he weren’t, he wouldn’t have chosen to stand on Crang’s side.
"I’m fine."
Enkrid declined. His right wrist would heal soon enough.
As long as he ate well and got some rest, it would be fine.
There was no need to stay in the palace just for that.
He could set his own dislocated joints, and for minor emergency treatment, Rem or Ragna could handle it. And more than anything, there was Esther.
"If my hands touch you, you’ll be healed in no time."
Hadn’t she said that with such confidence?
The moment Molsen’s doppelgänger died, Esther had checked on him and made that statement.
"If you were weak enough to die from this, you’d have been dead a long time ago."
That was what she added afterward, looking strangely satisfied.
Enkrid didn’t know what she meant, but he didn’t bother to ask.
She probably wouldn’t have answered anyway, and he was far too exhausted to care.
He wasn’t on the verge of collapsing, but still—
Fighting today’s battles, beating up Aisia, surviving against the half-knight executioner, and then watching Molsen and Crang bicker…
It was too much to recount.
To put it simply:
He had fought. He had killed. He had run.
His legs weren’t shaking, but he wanted to eat, bathe, and sleep.
A foul stench clung to him—the thick odor of blood and sweat.
As he stepped outside, he saw Rem chasing after some fool.
Right in front of the royal palace, standing beside One-Eyed, Rem was completely drenched in blood, looking as if he had bathed in it.
Enkrid’s gaze swept over Rem’s body.
Rem noticed and muttered:
"What? Just had to beat some bastard senseless and chase him down."
There was a trace of dissatisfaction in his tone.
Looking closer, his posture was slightly off—he had hurt his ankle.
He wasn’t limping, but he was definitely injured.
"Bastard had one last trick up his sleeve."
Rem answered the unasked question on his own.
Even as he said it, he wasn’t smiling.
Not at all.
It didn’t seem like a satisfying fight.
More like a grudge he hadn’t fully settled.
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