Crack.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck from a clear sky, and raindrops began to fall.
“Ah, this ruins the mood.”
“Hmph.”
Rem and Ragna, who had been heated up, avoided each other's gazes and looked away. With this, the fight was over. The two of them ducked into the barracks to avoid the rain.
It had been so clear, and now suddenly it was raining. The weather was going crazy. It was the end of autumn, not the season for sudden showers.
The sky at this time of year was stingy with its rain. A sudden shower without a single dark cloud was especially rare.
“Rain, all of a sudden.”
Krais said, looking at the lightning that struck from the clear sky and the falling rain. Enkrid also looked up at the sky, recalling what had happened while he was away. The curse, as expected, was bullshit.
“I bet they'll say this rain is part of the curse too, right?”
“They might. Anyway, in the past three days, Bon fell and broke his nose, and Jack broke his arm. On top of that, Rotten was bitten by a snake.”
All three were from the reconnaissance team. Bon was an agile soldier, nimble enough to do somersaults, but doing that in armor, he was lucky to only break his nose. Jack is a foul-mouthed soldier who's always overconfident in his spear skills.
They say he broke his arm while sparring, and one could bet money that his opponent broke it on purpose. Lastly, Rotten is rather careless for someone on the reconnaissance team. It's not the season for snakes, but there's a particular area in this meadow with a lot of them.
So, it was plausible for all three of them.
“Besides those three, there was also someone who burned their hand on a pot.”
Big Eyes said, as if excited. If he really thought it was a curse, he wouldn't be talking like this. It was just gossip.
“On top of that, there was news that the medical tent burned down. Ah, Squad Leader, you were there, right? Did you hear anything?”
Are they calling the tent burning down a curse too?
“Yeah. It did. It burned well.”
Krais, who was about to enter the barracks, whipped his head around.
“You saw it yourself? Did fire really just burst out all of a sudden? There were rumors about a spy getting in, too.”
Yeah.
No. ‘I did it.’ Enkrid was the one who set the fire. And as for a spy, there was an ambush, but it was doubtful whether it was an enemy soldier.
Krang's identity was still unknown, but he seemed to be at least the illegitimate son of a noble. Couldn't that ambusher have been one of our own? The curse, what was there to say.
The command headquarters would soon crack down on it. No commander would welcome such rumors spreading through the unit.
“Huh? I asked if you saw anything.”
Big Eyes pressed him. Enkrid met those big eyes for a moment and thought. Krais's mouth was too loose to tell him everything.
Even if it wasn't, there was no reason to tell him. He had decided to keep his mouth shut, and so he would.
“The barracks I was in burned down.”
“Eh?”
“You didn't know?”
“Not at all. So it wasn't an enemy soldier who attacked? Is it true that it just suddenly caught fire?”
“The night watch dozed off, and the torch stand fell over in the wind. A barrel of oil, left there to refill the torch, happened to be right next to it. The fire from the fallen torch caught on the tent, and poof.”
Enkrid clenched and unclenched his fist, mimicking a spreading flame with his hand.
“So it was nothing special.”
“Doesn't it occur to you that I almost died?”
“You're standing right here, perfectly fine.”
Was this supposed to be concern, or what?
“If you're not perfectly alive and well, does that make you a ghost, Squad Leader?”
Rem chimed in from behind, chuckling. Does this bastard think this is a joke?
“The Lord said, may the spirits rest in peace.”
And then the squad member lost in religion performed a verbal exorcism. Enkrid thought that if he were really a ghost, those would be very unpleasant words to hear.
“Just a bit of my hair got burned.”
The ends of his bangs were a little singed, so he'd cut them. The hair, roughly cut with a knife, looked clearly untended.
“Your hair is originally black, so you can't tell it's burned.”
Rem said, chuckling endlessly.
“Then is your hair a pile of ash?”
Rem's hair was gray.
“Ah, how'd you know? My hair is a pile of ash.”
Does this bastard really find this funny? He keeps this up, even though he's the only one laughing in the barracks. As if it had truly been just a sudden shower, the rain stopped as quickly as it had started.
The idle chatter was brief. As soon as the rain stopped, Krais said he had something to do and left. Enkrid lay down in his spot and fell asleep to the background sound of raindrops dripping from the edge of the tent.
It was a sweet nap. When he woke up after sleeping for a while, his aching head was clear. The fatigue had vanished as well.
Enkrid got up and twisted his waist from side to side. He felt no pain in his side at all.
Good.
He felt refreshed. There was no one else in the barracks. When he listened closely, he could hear the sound of people coming and going in front of the barracks and the complaining voice of a soldier from the tent right next to theirs.
“What the hell is with this rain, starting and stopping.”
Enkrid pushed open the tent flap with his hand and stepped outside. His squad members were scattered around in front of the barracks, enjoying their personal maintenance time. It was natural that Jacksen and Krais were nowhere to be seen.
The rest were there. Among them, he approached Rem, who was scribbling something on the wet ground.
“You look like you have nothing to do.”
“Do I? You're right. I was just bored and wondering whose head I should crack open.”
Picking fights with the surrounding squad members with his foul mouth was one of Rem's specialties. When the person he provoked charged at him, beating them up a bit was one of his hobbies. It had become less frequent since Enkrid arrived, but he hadn't completely abandoned that hobby.
“Then let's have a round of sparring.”
“Sparring?”
“Yes. Sparring.”
Rem readily nodded his head. This wasn't the first or second time. Enkrid's requests for sparring were a daily routine.
“Alright.”
The two of them headed to an empty lot behind the barracks. Thanks to the shitty weather, there was no one around. Even if there were, they wouldn't have paid any mind.
Enkrid faced Rem, a distance of ten paces between them. Rem grinned and rotated his wrists. With the movement of his wrists, the axe blade, sharpened at every opportunity, reflected the dry sunlight.
The rain had been on and off, but now it was perfectly clear. The air was humid, not dry, and the smell of earth stung his nose. But the ground wasn't muddy.
It was damp, but soft earth where your feet wouldn't sink in. A few clouds veiled the sunlight, so it wasn't glaring.
“It's a good day to fight.”
“Is that so?”
Enkrid replied and awakened the Heart of the Beast. Repeating the same day over and over, he tried not to waste his time. Among those efforts were physical exertion and hearing training.
But it also included using his head.
‘The Vallen-style mercenary swordsmanship won't work.’
He knew because he had fought Rem countless times while learning the thrust. Against Rem, the Vallen-style mercenary swordsmanship was useless. So, what should he do?
His own weapon, the intimidating presence of his opponent, and all his experiences up to now. If he fought with all of that in mind, what kind of attack would be effective? How could he create an effective strike?
Countless deliberations.
It was time to confirm the answer.
Shk.
Rem stepped forward. There was no hesitation in the way he planted his foot on the ground. His confidence was apparent.
So Enkrid thought.
“Should I go first?”
Instead of answering, Enkrid stole his opponent's breath. Inhale and exhale. Rem's breathing was long and slow.
In the middle of that long exhalation, Enkrid closed the distance in a single breath. He pushed off his back foot and advanced. At the same time as he closed the space.
Whoosh!
He swung the sword in his hand in a horizontal slash. Rem dodged by leaning his torso back as if lying down. It was a feat possible only because he had precisely predicted the range of the slash.
Even in that half-reclined position, Rem's eyes never left Enkrid. Confirming this, Enkrid reflexively pulled his sword back to block in front of him.
Whoosh. Clang!
The axe had flown in out of nowhere and struck his sword blade. The impact wasn't great. No matter how strong he was, it was an axe swung from a reclining position.
From that same position.
Whoosh, whoosh!
The axe flew in again and again.
Clang! Clang! Kaaang!
He gripped his sword tightly with both hands, blocking and blocking again. He wanted to stop even for a moment to fix his posture and attack, but Rem didn't stop. Enkrid felt like he was standing under a guillotine, falling again and again.
The shower of axe attacks ended as Rem fully straightened his body. A brief opening was created, but Enkrid did not retreat. He didn't even correct his posture.
Rem, having straightened his back, pulled his arm back. Seeing that, instead of retreating and catching his breath, Enkrid.
Pak!
Took one step forward and unleashed the thrust he had practiced countless times. The blade shot out from his blocking stance. He held the resolve to land the thrust, no matter what.
Everything happened in an instant. He thrust out, and the moment his sword was about to pierce Rem's waist, the blue sky and Rem's face flashed interchangeably before Enkrid's eyes.
‘Huh?’
Rem's face appeared upside down in Enkrid's eyes.
Whoosh.
The moment he thrust, Rem had kicked Enkrid's ankle. It was an instantaneous judgment. Thanks to that, the tip of the sword cut through empty air.
Instead of swinging his axe, Rem let it go, grabbed Enkrid by the collar, and threw him sideways.
“Ugh!”
Having rolled to the side, Enkrid quickly understood how he had been beaten. It was a feint. He had been waiting for the timing of Rem pulling the axe back.
Rem had used that against him.
“Hoo.”
Sprawled on the ground, Enkrid inwardly shook his head. It was monstrous strength. Enkrid thought he wouldn't easily lose to anyone when it came to strength, but to be able to send a person flying with one hand...
Even if he was relatively light without any gear on, it was right to call it monstrous strength. Lifting his head while still seated, he saw Rem's face. He had a strange expression.
Usually, he smiled continuously during sparring.
Not now.
The corners of his mouth were straight.
Composed.
He wasn't smiling.
“Tsk, have you been eating something good behind my back?”
Rem asked with a serious face. Come to think of it, this reaction was natural. He wouldn't remember helping with the thrusting practice.
After all, when he escaped that first ‘today’, he had only assigned him to meal duty.
“I've thought this before, but it seems like your skills have jumped up. That thrust especially, it was good. Not bad.”
“Really?”
“That's right. And I don't give empty compliments.”
“Hardly.”
The guy lives and breathes nonsense, passing it off as jokes.
“It's true, I tell you.”
“Alright. Then let's review.”
“... Squad Leader, you're a really consistent person. How can a person not change at all?”
The post-sparring review. This too was a daily routine. No matter how little there was to gain, Enkrid would pester his sparring partner.
It was to learn, internalize, and train even the smallest things. But for the opponent, there were often times when they had nothing to say. Their skills had to improve at least a little for there to be something to talk about.
Until now, that had been the case. That's why after sparring, Rem would often say things like, ‘Hey, try to grow some grit.’ Were they meaningless, valueless words?
No. Rem knew. The end of someone without talent. That's why he told him what he needed to have in order not to die.
For the same reason, he had also passed on the Heart of the Beast.
But now?
He had changed, changed a lot. The fact that he now had much to say about this sparring session was proof of that.
“First off, it was too obvious you were waiting for my axe swing. Even if I'm not easily fooled, you should at least try to feint, shouldn't you?”
Rem began to speak. Enkrid nodded his head. As always, with a proper listening posture.
Seeing that, Rem let out a short laugh. He readily pointed out the core issues first; the minor details could wait. That was Rem's way.
Enkrid listened intently to every single word.
There were no battles for three days, and during that time, Enkrid sparred with Rem three more times.
“It would be good to train your lower body. Your balance is strangely off.”
Even though he usually just spouted nonsense, Rem had a knack for seeing through to the core of things. Enkrid mulled over those words, chewing on them. After that, he dedicated himself to training again.
He did so even when everyone else was resting. During personal maintenance time, everyone has their own time. Some write letters.
Some soldiers are absorbed in resting. Except for eating and sleeping, Enkrid poured everything into his practice and training. Someone watching might call him relentless.
But the person doing it was the picture of calm. He felt a great sense of fulfillment, more than anything, from his skills growing day by day. Thanks to that, he didn't feel any anguish even during the physically grueling training that added to his pain.
“What a relentless man. He's at it again as soon as he got back from the medical tent.”
“He was quiet for a while recently. Looks like the fire's been lit again in that fellow.”
“If I trained like that, I would've at least reached the level of a low-end knight by now.”
“Huh? Why are you spewing shit from your mouth?”
He worked his body and focused on his hearing. When his muscles screamed, focusing on his hearing would make the pain subside. The trivial words of two soldiers from another barracks reached Enkrid's ears.
They were in the same platoon, but it was the Third Squad, from which he felt a sense of distance. After that, he tried extending his hearing even further. He tried to guess what someone was doing by listening to the sound of clothes rustling behind him.
He also attempted to identify people by the sound of their footsteps. He was wrong five out of ten times, but he could still recognize familiar footsteps. Light and fast, yet the sound of them treading the dirt floor was cheerful.
‘Big Eyes.’
He was right.
“Training again? That's freakish. So freakish.”
Krais said as he approached. Enkrid ignored him. As he repeated the motion of half-squatting and standing up, his legs began to tremble.
Sweat trickled from his scalp and formed beads at the tips of his eyebrows. The fickle sky had cleared up, returning to its usual dry weather with a parched wind. To be sweating enough to drench his whole body on a day like this probably didn't look normal.
Especially since this was a battlefield. Training in a place where a fight could break out at any moment. Nevertheless, everyone just accepted it.
It's not like Enkrid had only been like this for a day or two. This was their daily life.
“Isn't that hard? I'm amazed you do that every day.”
Krais said, planting his butt to one side and chewing toughly on a flat piece of jerky. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead, brushed past the tip of his nose, and fell to the ground. A heavy pain rose from his thighs.
His muscles quivered, and nausea welled up. He had reached his limit. Enkrid, drenched in sweat, collapsed to a sitting position.
As he sat with his eyes closed, a cool wind brushed past his damp forehead and ears. Today's training, complete. As he enjoyed the wind with that thought.
He heard the sound of heavy, forceful footsteps. The footsteps stopped behind Enkrid.
“Still working hard, I see.”
He tilted his head back to look at the person. A long shadow fell over Enkrid's face, blocking the sunlight. The backlight made the face hard to see, but he could tell it was a man with a thick beard.
“Can we talk?”
It was the Fourth Platoon Leader.