‘Killed in my sleep?’
Enkrid was so baffled, he couldn't even laugh.
‘Was I that dense?’
So dense I wouldn't even know if I was stabbed to death in my sleep? That couldn't be right. If he were that dense, he never would have survived this long.
It was hard to even guess how he had died. Enkrid recalled the moments just before he fell asleep. There was nothing out of the ordinary.
He hadn't felt any kind of premonition. He fell asleep. And he never woke up after that.
Did he hear the sound of an insect in his sleep? Did he toss and turn? No. He slept soundly.
He would be returning in just one more day. He slept without a single thought. He thought of it as his last rest.
And after that? He felt as if he'd been possessed by a ghost. But he didn't just stand there, foolishly baffled.
If your head freezes up just because you're flustered, you die. It was just that another today had begun. Having been through it once already, Enkrid knew what he had to do, and what he had to ponder.
There were two things to consider. One was ‘how.’ Whether his throat was slit, or his nose and mouth were covered.
How could someone be killed without any pain. The second was ‘why.’
‘Why me?’
He had been killed without even knowing the moment of his death. This was no amateur's work. If the opponent was an assassin, they were first-rate or even better.
And if it was an enemy soldier.
‘Then they’re even better than a first-rate assassin.’
The medical tent is in the rear. To be able to sneak all the way here and slit a throat. This would be an assassin skilled enough to slap a knight across the face and still return alive and well.
As for the question of why, wasn't the answer already more or less out in the open? Inside the tent, there was only Krang and Benzens, besides himself.
‘No great figure like this would come for Benzens.’
Then there was only one answer.
Krang.
The senseless soldier who claimed to have forgotten his own unit. A guy like that couldn't possibly be just an ordinary soldier. The answer to ‘why’ was found.
As for ‘how,’ he tossed it aside. He would find out tonight when it happens.
Strangely enough.
He had thought it was tough because of that god-awful pain he experienced every time he was killed by the perverted enemy lancer. He had thought that looking into that bastard's eyes was the most shitty feeling of all.
‘This is even more god-awful.’
He felt dirty. The fact that he had died without knowing what was what. It was a truly, truly dirty feeling.
Even if he had not just stepped in shit but rolled around in it, it wouldn't have felt like this.
‘I feel really.’
Shitty?
But since that wouldn't change anything. Enkrid forgot about such feelings. Instead, he thought about what to do and organized his thoughts.
‘I can just confirm the ‘how’ tonight. As for the ‘why,’ I can assume they came for Krang.’
From here, another question arose. Beyond ‘how’ and ‘why,’ there was the question of ‘who.’ Who is the assassin?
On the premise that it wasn't an enemy soldier. Someone who knows the location of the medical tent, knows how to hide themselves, and is skilled in assassination. An ally who has already identified the target and is in a position for easy access.
A figure suddenly came to mind.
‘The company commander?’
It was a reasonable suspicion. Elves' footsteps are silent, and their movements are stealthy and swift. They were a race perfectly suited for assassination.
Moreover, since he himself was here, she had a pretext to come and go. The fact that she had come a few days ago and wasted time with useless talk made sense if this was her objective. The pieces fit together perfectly.
“What are you doing?”
Benzens asked from the side. Enkrid replied reflexively.
“Thinking.”
“Thinking? Your words are damn short. Have you really lost your mind? You crazy bastard?”
His thigh wound must have healed somewhat, as Platoon Leader Benzens got up, limping.
“Ah, I thought you were Krang, Platoon Leader. My mistake.”
“Is everything okay just because you say it’s a mistake?”
“I'm sorry.”
“Is it over just because you apologize?”
He’s latched on.
“I’ll go get some food.”
Enkrid turned away from Benzens as if ignoring him, just like usual, and stepped outside the tent. From behind him, amidst Benzens' screaming voice.
“I’m not eating!”
Krang shouted as he belatedly got up. He didn’t resent him for being the reason he died. It was true that he felt dirty.
And it was true that his irritation was soaring because of it. But Krang hadn't killed him. In the end, wasn't his death due to his own lack of skill?
Or perhaps just terribly bad luck. That's what Enkrid thought.
‘If I know, I won't get caught.’
The assassin came in secret. Just by making a disturbance, nearby allies would come running. That would be enough to catch a cat that had snuck in at night.
He didn't even have to catch it himself. Before long, the soldier in charge of the medical tent could be seen approaching, rubbing his eyes. The way he dragged his feet as he came showed an attitude of finding everything a hassle.
This guy is also so consistent.
“Thanks to you being late, a platoon leader is hopping mad.”
“Because I was late? That’s because you, the squad leader, keep teasing him.”
Officially, this soldier was also at the squad leader level. Thus, the two of us were of the same rank.
“Are you getting bold because you're a bottom-rank soldier?”
The lazy soldier asked as they walked back together since they had met. The question was abrupt, but it wasn't hard to understand what he meant. He was asking why he kept fearlessly picking fights.
“Benzens?”
“He’s a mid-rank soldier.”
Not only the Cyprus Division, but the entire army of the Naurilia Kingdom divided soldiers into ranks. It was essentially a reward system to boost morale. If you proved your skill, you were given a rank befitting it.
It was a system where you proved your ability and were granted a rank. He had heard there was also prize money each time a rank went up. Enkrid also thought this was a very useful system in many ways.
Bottom-rank, low-rank, mid-rank, high-rank, top-rank. A total of five ranks also served as a motivation for soldiers to train fiercely. Because Naurilia revered martial prowess, most commanders possessed strength of high-rank or above.
And knights were excluded from the ranks. A knight is just a knight. Because they were those who had surpassed human limits.
They couldn't be bound within such a system. So, a platoon leader would be a mid-rank soldier or higher. A squad leader would be at the low-rank or mid-rank level.
Of course, no matter how skilled one was, they wouldn't be appointed to a position that would disrupt the chain of command. Those at platoon leader level and above were chosen with some care. But there were always exceptions to the rule.
Enkrid was a bottom-rank soldier, yet a squad leader. The squad members under his command were at least mid-rank soldiers or higher.
“You seem like an unusual person.”
The soldier spoke without thinking. But Enkrid felt strange.
‘Me?’
All his life, he had only been told he was ordinary. Or that he lacked talent.
“Two servings of food should be enough.”
Enkrid said.
The soldier looked at him, and while muttering ‘you really are a bit of a strange person,’ he prepared only two servings. After returning to the tent and placating Benzens a little. He finished breakfast, trained as usual, and reviewed past battles.
Krang had left without eating breakfast. So, the only ones eating were Enkrid and Benzens.
“I guess Krang said he was leaving for a bit before he went?”
“Well, something like that.”
At Enkrid's question, the man in charge of the medical tent gave a casual nod, as if it were no big deal. He had considered the elven company commander a suspect. But this guy was also a strong candidate.
‘This soldier can also come and go from here whenever he wants, can’t he?’
There was a guard on duty in front of the tent, but they wouldn't stop the soldier in charge of the medical tent.
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions.’
Even if the pieces fit together perfectly, making a conclusion would cloud his judgment. It was better to keep the possibilities open. Krang returned only after noon had passed.
It was the same day. Of course, Enkrid alone moved differently.
“You’re busy?”
When Enkrid spoke to him, the returned Krang tilted his head. Then he approached with a slight smile and asked.
“Did you know?”
What was he talking about all of a sudden.
“Know what?”
“This is the first time you’ve spoken to me first.”
‘Was it?’
Now that he thought about it, it seemed so. He hadn't been consciously aware of it.
“I guess it was.”
As if it were any big deal. Krang chuckled and sat his rear on Enkrid's cot. Enkrid wasn't particularly curious about Krang's identity.
No, he hadn't been. But now that today had begun to repeat because of this soldier with a hidden identity, he did feel a sense of curiosity. Just what kind of person was he, to have an assassin come after him.
He could try to coax his identity out of him. But he was also someone who had sincerely listened to his dream. Sometimes, conveying one's true feelings to the other person's heart was better than asking indirectly.
Enkrid did just that. He sat next to him, looked him straight in the eyes, and asked.
“What is your identity?”
Benzens, who had been dozing, woke up and saw them sitting together. He was about to interject with something but stopped. Because he had also heard Enkrid’s question.
Benzens was just as curious. Enkrid calmly waited for an answer.
Krang smiled.
But it wasn't the same relaxed smile as before. He maintained his smile and simply stared into Enkrid’s eyes for a while.
‘Is he trying to have a staring contest?’
Enkrid leisurely waited for his mouth to open. Just as the impatient Benzens was about to say a word.
“Hmm, I can't say.”
“Why?”
“It wouldn't be fun if I told you. I also have a promise I need to keep.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
At his words saying he didn't want to reveal it, Enkrid nodded. Benzens, who was watching them from a cot in the back, heard this absurd conversation from beginning to end. And he thought.
What kind of monster-farting conversation was this. Why was he agreeing over there after asking the question himself? So he does have a hidden identity?
If there was a reason he couldn't reveal it openly? Is he an enemy?
A spy?
Benzens' train of thought came to a halt. At the same time, his mouth opened.
“Are you a spy?”
“I’m the Four-Four-Four Squad Leader.”
“Not you, you bastard.”
“Me? I’m not.”
Krang shook his head. Having heard Benzens' question, Krang immediately denied it, yet he made a short "hmm" sound and then stood up from the cot. Enkrid watched him quietly.
He took a few steps and stood in the middle of the medical tent. The soldier guarding the medical tent, who had been dozing, saw him and opened his eyes groggily.
“I can't reveal my identity, but I can say one thing.”
It was a strange feeling. The way he walked to the center of the tent, his manner of speaking, his gestures, his smile, his gaze, the sound of his breath. It was a strange feeling, as if all of it fit together perfectly.
He was like an actor walking onto a prepared stage. A strange energy flowed from his body, one that naturally drew everyone's attention. Enkrid found himself unknowingly focusing on Krang's lips.
If one knows how to listen with all their heart. Could they, in turn, speak words that could captivate the other's ears and heart?
“I cannot betray this kingdom.”
Words spoken neither too fast nor too slow. Just a single word. Sometimes it becomes a lie.
Sometimes it becomes a meaningless sound. And sometimes it is used to whisper of a love that will soon fade. It might have been just such a word.
But it changes so much depending on whose lips it comes from. The words Krang spoke sounded like the fact that flowers bloom in spring, leaves turn color in autumn, and fall in winter. They sounded like an undeniable law.
Enkrid saw an illusion. The tent suddenly seemed to expand wide. And Krang appeared to be standing in its very center.
Vast.
When he was a mercenary, he had once passed through the breadbasket region of the Naurilia Kingdom. The surroundings opened up like that vast plain. And even though the surroundings had opened up, Krang stood there clearly.
His presence seemed to encompass the wilderness.
‘He’s not just some commoner.’
He was a type that couldn't be ranked.
‘A knight?’
No. Could a knight-level person have this much skill? Though if a person of knight-level skill were to hide their true abilities, he wouldn't have the eyes to see it. It was a gut feeling.
He was likely not a knight.
“Well, don't believe me if you don't want to.”
As Krang lightly tossed out a word, the vast plain and the wilderness vanished. The clearly visible Krang also returned to his original appearance.
“But I'd be thankful if you did.”
“I think I have to believe you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Because you said so.”
Enkrid couldn't even begin to guess the other's identity.
‘It’s not a huge deal anyway.’
It was a matter of just stopping the assassin. It was just curiosity. It would be nice if the other person told him, but there was no problem if he didn't. “Hooah.”
Benzens let out a long breath, as if he had been holding it in. Then he looked at Enkrid and Krang and was about to say something, but.
“Damn.”
He said only that and turned his body away. Perhaps because Krang's identity seemed to be anything but ordinary, Benzens didn't say anything more. Seeing that, Krang burst out laughing and said.
“Don't worry, Platoon Leader. Right now, I’m just Krang.”
“... Who said anything?”
Tsk, he's scared stiff. Enkrid found Benzens to be almost cute. It was also amazing how he consistently picked fights with him despite being like this.
And yet, when he saw Rem, he would clamp his mouth shut. He didn't really pick fights with the other squad members either.
‘Come to think of it, I do wonder why he only does it to me.’
Glancing at Benzens, Enkrid killed time. The same day flows by.
“Sleep well, Enkrid.”
“You too.”
“Ahem.”
Platoon Leader Benzens, perhaps fearing future repercussions, skipped his usual evening greeting. Geez, leaving a man feeling empty. Soon, the assigned night guard stood in front of the tent.
Enkrid did not sleep. He could fall asleep in an instant if he wanted to, but if necessary, pulling an all-nighter was not a problem. What had saved him during his mercenary days was less his swordsmanship and more his stamina and quick wits.
Time passes.
The night deepens. The night guard has changed twice. Benzens was snoring softly beside him.
Enkrid forgot about sleep with all sorts of thoughts.
‘I might doze off if I keep lying here like this.’
It was the moment he thought about getting up to go take a piss.
Sting.
There was a stinging sensation near his neck. Thinking a bug had bitten him, he brushed his neck with his hand. Then, tick—something caught on his hand.
‘A needle? A poison needle?’
He carefully grasped it with his fingertips and pulled it out. It was a thin needle made of wood.
‘Well, this is unexpected.’
He had planned to scream when they appeared. A dull pain began to spread from the pricked area, and soon, he could feel no sensation. It was a feeling as if someone had cut off his neck and body and taken them away.
It was definitely there, but he couldn't feel anything below his neck.
‘What is this.’
Soon, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and his head spun.
‘A poison needle.’
He’d been had. This was the answer to ‘how.’ No matter how dense a person was, no matter how deeply they were sleeping.
How could one not know their throat was being slit or their heart was being pierced. The answer was here. It was a vicious paralysis poison.
Enkrid tried to keep his eyes wide open until the very end. Because he could not let this today go to waste. He saw something like a blurry shadow.
Its build was small. Unless it was an unusual body type, it was not an adult male. A woman or a child.
That's what its build looked like. The shadow approached and swung its arm, and that was the last thing he saw.
“Sir Cyprus! Sir Cyprus!”
The hymns glorifying Sir Cyprus could be heard. The start of a new today. To be precise, it was the third today.
“Are they slacking off, damn it? Why haven’t they brought breakfast?”
It was the same. It was Platoon Leader Benzens complaining about the soldier who hadn't come in the morning. There was no need to drag things out today.
“I'll go check.”
Without even dealing with him, he went outside. First, to bring the soldier. Let's start anew.
To be honest, he didn't even know where the poison needle had flown from. So what should he do? He had to prepare instead of just lying down.
What he needed now was a suitable excuse. An excuse to be awake and up even in the middle of the night. This place, even if it was the rear, was still a battlefield.
Excuses to stay awake were a dime a dozen.
‘Let’s try this again, Mr. Assassin.’
Enkrid began to prepare.