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[Extra Chapter because why not]

“Things don’t always go as planned.”

Enkrid muttered quietly as he moved.

“Esther.”

He pressed his left big toe, lowering his waist. In a sharp, low stance, he leaned forward.

In a single swift motion, two daggers whizzed by, embedding themselves into the back wall of the tavern.

Enkrid drew his sword.

The tavern room wasn’t wide enough to swing a longsword.

Especially with the wall blocking the entrance.

They believed in that fact.

What would be the point of drawing a sword here? What could he possibly do?

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