“The wind is blowing this way now, right? But you can see that the short grass here is lying in the opposite direction, and in a circular pattern, can't you?”
Enri stepped on the base of the tall grass with his foot. Pushing the long grass aside, he revealed the ground filled with shorter grass. Looking at the tracks in the grass, Enri explained smoothly.
“I see.”
Enkrid replied, carefully examining the ground. He could understand it now that it was pointed out, but if he had been told to find it himself, well, he did not think he could have found it easily. This was the tall-grass field.
Looking around, it was a feast of green. A bard traveling the continent had seen this plain in midsummer and named it the Green Pearl. It meant a pearl of green.
The fields of long grass, in particular, were said to appear darker, like the depths of the ocean. He could see why. This damn grassy field was not a pleasant place for humans to enter and make their way through.
If you were not careful, the grass swaying in the wind would slap against your cheeks and eyes. Grass insects from all around clung to his body. Crickets and katydids and the like popped out, hopping around, and occasionally, frogs could be seen in puddles of water.
Seeing the frogs, he was reminded of the Frokk who had kicked him. Of course, he knew that the Frokk claimed they were an entirely different species from frogs. In fact, they would not react even if you killed a frog in front of them.
But if you threatened to burst their hearts, they would come at you with fire in their eyes.
‘A single blow to my side.’
He had blocked it reflexively, but was sent flying by that one hit. How much time would he need to match the strength of a Frokk? It was impossible for now.
But would he one day be able to fight even that Frokk? Doubt crept in. It could not be helped.
Just because he did not give up did not mean he did not have doubts. But he also had no time for such doubts. He would rather use that time to swing his sword once more.
Enkrid immediately shook off the negative thought. He had no time to worry about such things. Wasting mental energy on problems that could not be solved right now was a fool’s errand.
With that thought, he focused again on Enri’s explanation. This soldier, said to be a former prairie hunter, was very positive. No matter what kind of idiotic things the Squad Leader did, he just went along with it.
He even told Enkrid to just endure it. Of course, Enkrid had no need to endure it in the first place. He too was used to just letting things be.
Even in this situation, Enri used his hunter’s skills to constantly observe various things. It was interesting to listen to him.
“There aren't many animal droppings. Why?”
Enri tilted his head.
“Is that a problem?”
Enkrid asked, pushing away a long, thick blade of grass that kept drooping over his head.
“This field of grass may look like a useless patch of weeds to people, but that’s not the reality. For the creatures that feed on this grass as their main diet, it’s like a natural treasure trove, so there are usually many animal tracks, but they’re sparse now.”
Few animals. Why?
Enkrid, who had been listening idly, plucked a grass insect from his cheek. It was not a leech, but he could see it extending something sharp from its mouth, trying to suck his blood.
Looking at the insect and the grass that blocked his view, a sudden urge arose in him to take a sharpened scythe and slash it all down.
“Shh, you talk too much.”
The Squad Leader said, looking back. He glanced at a cricket that flitted past his eyes and frowned. But he did not complain.
‘This is unexpected.’
He had expected the man to get all irritated and complain about the situation, especially since he was the one who insisted on coming here. Though it was a feast of green, if you looked closely, there were many patches of grass that had faded to a light brown. A sign that autumn was approaching.
When winter came, this lush field of grass would disappear as if asleep, leaving only traces behind. And when the weather warmed again, the tall grass would grow back, feeding on the dead grass as nutrients. It was a cycle that repeated year after year.
‘To die, and grow again.’
Was this the providence of nature? Then what was this that was happening to him? The repetition of today.
Even when he tried not to think about it, it kept wandering through his mind. It could not be helped. He could not just dismiss the fact that the day was repeating.
However, Enkrid had clearly decided on his path.
‘I will use everything I can.’
If so, this was the same. He did not think of it as a blessing. Even if it was a curse, nothing would change.
While they had been walking through the grass for quite some time, someone tapped Enkrid’s shoulder. It was not Enri. It was the soldier who had been sticking close to the Squad Leader’s side.
“Our Squad Leader might seem really immature, but please try to understand. He has his reasons. He needs to achieve something great, but they keep sending him to places like the reconnaissance team, so he’s full of pent-up frustration.”
What was this all of a sudden?
“You’re a Squad Leader too. I’d appreciate it if you’d forget that talk about his asshole.”
What strange timing. Even so, Enkrid roughly accepted the apology. What good would come from getting angry with each other during a mission?
It was not something worth getting angry over anyway. Enkrid still thought the same way. He would rather invest a little more time in training than waste his mental energy on such things.
“Alright.”
“You’re very generous, Squad Leader.”
The soldier who said that showed a smile. He had faded blond hair and a fighter’s face. In other words, the opposite type of Big Eyes.
To put it more simply, he was ugly. He nodded and turned back around. He focused his hearing out of habit.
Just at that moment, a foreign sound struck his ears.
Rustle. Hiss! Crunch.
The steady training he had done after learning from Jacksen was now paying off.
‘The sound is different.’
The ten members of the reconnaissance team were not walking shoulder to shoulder, but they were close enough to see each other’s backs. The sound they made pushing through the tall grass was now familiar. But the sound he just heard was different.
It came from farther away. It was definitely the sound of a person pushing through the grass. Mixed in with it was the hiss of an animal and the sound of grass being trampled.
It was a person. There was no way it was an ally. The tall-grass field itself was land of little strategic value.
Its only significance was that enemy territory lay beyond this damn field. However, once you left the tall-grass field, you were immediately on an open plain with nowhere to hide. Therefore, moving through it was not a very smart move.
Did that mean the enemy also had a Squad Leader as stupid as theirs and had sent out a reconnaissance team?
“There’s someone else here besides us.”
Enkrid said.
The soldier with the fighter’s face in front of him blinked.
“What?”
His expression asked what on earth he was talking about. He frowned and tilted his head.
“I think I heard it too.”
Enri added from the right.
“What did you say?”
When Enkrid stopped walking completely, the Squad Leader who had been in front stepped back and approached him to ask.
“Enemies.”
He had spoken as soon as he knew, but for them to register it was another matter entirely.
Ping! Thwack!
Before they could even register that there were enemies, the enemy’s attack struck.
“Ugh!”
As the Squad Leader stepped back, a short arrow lodged itself in the head of the soldier who was now at the front. He determined the direction of the shot by the sound. His eyes scanned the shape of the arrow.
‘A bolt.’
A short arrow, good for close range. It was not meant to be shot from a longbow.
‘A crossbow.’
The conclusion was immediate. The moment a hole appeared in the head of the soldier at the front, Enkrid opened his mouth.
“Get down!”
At the same time, he grabbed the Squad Leader by the collar and pulled him down.
“Urk!”
The Squad Leader let out a single groan. As they lay flat on the ground, sounds like ‘urk’ and ‘kuh’—the death rattles of others—were heard.
‘Front, right, and left.’
Even if they dodged the first volley by ducking, death was a foregone conclusion. Then what needed to be done? He had to charge.
Pick a direction and break through. He could not stop. Keeping his body so low his stomach was touching the ground, Enkrid threw himself in one direction.
Rustle!
The undergrowth parted, revealing his movement to the enemy. As expected, countless crossbow bolts flew at him.
“You fool!”
Enri shouted in surprise. It looked like a suicide attempt.
Thwip-thwip-thwip.
It must have been half luck, but Enkrid dodged most of the bolts. One lodged in his left shoulder, but he still caught sight of the enemy. The enemy had cleared some of the tall grass to secure a space to move.
Between the bushes, he saw a figure in green clothes, holding a crossbow. He drew his sword the moment he saw him.
‘Anytime, from any stance.’
Unleash the best possible attack. He acted as he had been taught. He kicked off the ground and closed the distance.
The enemy tried to reload the crossbow. It was the wrong decision. As soon as he was within sword’s reach, Enkrid stomped his left foot and delivered a one-handed thrust.
The tip of the arming sword in his hand flew through the air and grazed the enemy’s neck. The sharp blade sliced through the thin skin of the neck. Blood spurted from the wound, and then began to gush out in thick, dark streams.
The soldier with the slashed throat clutched his neck and staggered, then fell. Enkrid did not stop. He immediately darted to the left.
It was not a distance for shooting a bolt. A spearhead flew at his chest. Enkrid feigned a charge then stopped in place, letting the enemy’s spear stab empty air.
He saw the short infantry spear and the eyes of the soldier holding it. Eyes mixed with a strange excitement and surprise. The eyes of a soldier on the battlefield.
Crossbow, short spear, green-dyed clothes. It was the equipment for an ambush. He shoved the information he saw into his mind in an instant, then took another step forward and swung horizontally.
The enemy soldier with the short spear stepped back, dodging the arc of the sword, and thrusted again with his recovered spear. Instead of dodging the incoming thrust of the short spear, Enkrid pivoted on his right foot. He spun a half-turn on the spot and thrusted his sword again.
An act of dodging and stabbing, a single blow that combined offense and defense. The sword pierced the enemy’s torso. He felt a dull thud and heavy resistance through his grip.
The opponent’s armor was all thick cloth armor. It was not difficult to pierce with enough strength, skill, and a sharp blade.
“Guuurgle.”
The enemy soldier, with the sword stuck in his abdomen, dropped his short spear and grabbed Enkrid’s sword with both hands. His palms were sliced, and blood flowed.
‘Can’t pull it out right away.’
Think short, act fast. The iron rule for surviving on the battlefield. He let go of the sword gripped by the enemy and picked up the short spear from the ground.
Whoosh.
In that interval, another enemy soldier swung his crossbow like a club. Thanks to his crouched position, the crossbow brushed over Enkrid’s head. The arming cap he wore instead of a helmet caught on the edge of the crossbow and was flung off.
As the cold air hit him, his scalp felt cool. Enkrid stabbed the spear he had picked up into the visible instep. It was an act of giving the enemy who swung the crossbow a nice decoration for his foot.
Thunk!
“Kuaaaargh!”
Pain brings screams. Screams bring attention. Therefore, as a means of lowering the enemy soldiers’ morale, the scream was appropriate.
He rushed forward, grabbed the opposite knee—the one without the short spear in it—and bent it backwards.
Crack!
“Guoooooh!”
It was a technique he learned from the preacher squad member. It was incredibly clumsy, but this was not the time to be picky. Enkrid pulled the shortsword from the waist of the fallen man.
Then he straightened his back, took a stance, and pressed the shortsword tightly against the neck of the man with the spear in his foot.
“Kugh!”
Before the man could even resist, he pushed the blade in smoothly and pulled it sideways.
Skrrch.
He felt the resistance in his hand as it cut through flesh and skin. He heard the gurgling sound of blood bubbling. The soldier with the slit throat clutched his neck with his hands and collapsed to his knees.
He was out of breath. Enkrid awkwardly crouched behind the dying, kneeling soldier, using the body as a shield while he caught his breath.
‘One side down, at least.’
They had been surrounded on three sides. Now, one of those sides was open. He had created an opening to escape if things went south.
“…You said you were a bottom-rank soldier?”
Enri, who had appeared behind him at some point, said.
“I am.”
As he answered while catching his breath, Enri shook his head back and forth.
“This kind of skill belongs to a bottom-rank soldier?”
“Damn it, I’m the asshole.”
In the midst of it all, the Squad Leader blurted out something idiotic. What in the world was he thinking?
“Get back, don’t step forward.”
The soldier with the fighter’s face blocked the Squad Leader. The survivors numbered four. The rest of the reconnaissance team was dead.
The number of glaring enemy soldiers before them seemed to be over twenty.
“…What the fuck.”
An Azpen soldier spoke. He looked at Enkrid with surprised eyes, then glanced at the group of dead soldiers. Three dead soldiers.
Enkrid did not care whether the enemy was surprised or not. As always, he just found the best possible move in the current situation and executed it. The crossbows were still a threat.
The enemy forces were numerous. And he had lost his sword.
“Run!”
It was time to use the Vallen-style mercenary swordsmanship: the hasty retreat. Without hesitation, Enkrid turned his body and ran.