“The flagpole?”
“It’s fine.”
The company commander of the Azpen forces was not at all pleased with the current operation. But what could a mere commander do when an order came down from on high? When you’re told to do something, you do it.
So he was doing it, and in the midst of it, a small problem had arisen. A few of Naurilia’s rats had infiltrated the barracks and set a fire. Even with more than half his troops lying in ambush in the tall-grass field, they had allowed an intrusion.
No matter how much he disliked it, the operation had already begun. To be bested here was a matter of pride. Failure was even more unacceptable.
“You should have been more thorough with the defenses.”
The master of the flagpole spoke. At his words, a vein throbbed on the company commander’s forehead. It was galling to hear such words from a man who would die in an instant if he drew his sword and struck his neck.
But what could he do? It was true that a hole had appeared in the unit’s security.
“I will.”
Flap!
The company commander said as much and exited the barracks, swatting the entrance flap aside with his hand. He could not understand this situation.
‘Does this make any sense?’
The enemy discovering their location? Fine, let’s say they could have figured that out. But what came next?
With fewer than ten men, they passed through the troops stationed in the tall-grass field and attacked the main unit’s flagpole? The company commander believed in his unit.
Naturally.
His usual nickname was the Demon Commander. It was a moniker he’d earned for his brutally harsh training. His philosophy was that if you didn’t vomit blood in training, you’d vomit blood and die on the battlefield.
This was the unit he had raised.
‘They broke through this?’
There may be soldiers who lose a battle, but there are no soldiers who fail at watch duty. The company commander truly believed that. So, was he to blame his own men’s security?
He couldn’t just do that blindly. The one who planned and executed this was no ordinary man. The courage to enter enemy territory with a small number.
The skill to fight one of his own platoon leaders and survive. And the perfect finish, setting a fire and making a clean getaway. The platoon leader said he had no choice but to let them go because the fire was spreading behind him.
‘Luck is also a skill.’
The company commander of Azpen, who had wandered the battlefields for a long time, knew the importance of luck. The company commander spoke to his waiting adjutant.
“Aside from the platoon leaders on duty, summon all commanders.”
“Yes, Captain.”
His company was under a battalion, but it was a unit with its own operational authority. In other words, it was an autonomous company. And usually, an autonomous company was given a nickname.
This unit’s name was the ‘Grey Dogs.’ In the Azpen region, the Grey Dogs were a breed of grey-furred dogs famous for their persistent nature. A Grey Dog would not be satisfied until it somehow connected with the target it had set its eyes on.
Whether that connection was love or a fight. Thanks to that, the Grey Dogs unit was also sometimes called the ‘Stubborn Lovers.’ Now, the commander of that unit had marked the unknown enemy recon squad leader.
‘I will hunt you down and kill you.’
The Grey Dog, the grey hound, had chosen its target. The company commander carved the resolution into his heart again and again. He would hunt him down and finish him.
Above his head, clouds began to gather, perhaps the work of the shaman inside the tent. It looked like it would rain soon. Most of the sporadic rain lately had been the handiwork of the shaman now sitting in the tent.
And this shaman was the key to their current strategy. He still didn’t like it, but there was no denying it was an effective operation. If this operation had been absurd, the commander of the autonomous company Grey Dogs, also known as the ‘Stubborn Lovers,’ would never have participated in it, even if it killed him.
A battlefield where victory was promised. Separate from his burning desire for revenge, he couldn’t help but think it was terribly boring.
“You’re saying you happened to discover the enemy ambush, happened to enter their main camp, and happened to set fire to it and return?”
Phrased like that, it did sound strange. Instead of nodding, Enkrid added an explanation.
“Yes, I believed it was the appropriate decision at that moment, and the results just happened to turn out that way.”
The Recon Platoon Leader blinked. What was this fellow talking about? A guy who was about the same age as him but had luckily become a squad leader.
A moron with terrible skills who swung his sword at every opportunity. That was the public perception of the troublemaker squad leader. But listening to what he had done now, it was something else.
And this was hearing it from Enkrid’s mouth. The stories he heard from the surviving squad members were even more incredible.
“It seems rumors can’t be trusted. If possible, I would like to learn more from your side.”
This was Andrew, who he had worried was too arrogant before he left. He had wondered if sending this brat out as he was would lead to some kind of accident. He’d had command of the reconnaissance team forcibly taken from him, yet he said it was only natural.
No, he wanted to learn more. Was this really the same Andrew he knew?
“In terms of skill alone, I’d say he’s surpassed the level of a mid-rank soldier.”
Next was Mac, Andrew’s guardian. The Recon Platoon Leader knew Mac’s skills. He had partly entrusted the reconnaissance team to Andrew because he trusted him.
And now, Mac was acknowledging him. And for his skill, no less.
“He knew a lot. I just did as he said, and this is what happened.”
Last was Enri, the prairie hunter. The squad members’ assessments were unanimous. They simply trusted and followed.
They wouldn’t all conspire to tell a lie. So, this had actually happened. Enkrid had taken command of the reconnaissance team.
With just ten men, he had evaded the eyes of the enemy soldiers ambushing in the tall-grass field, set fire to the enemy camp, and returned alive.
‘Does this make any sense?’
It didn’t seem to, but since they had already set the fire and scouted the enemy’s movements, there was nothing he could say. He was bewildered as he tried to process everything he had heard. Things like how they had stopped amidst the enemy soldiers, who then just went around them.
Or how they had moved through the enemy camp in the darkness without being caught by anyone.
“Well, uh, you must have been incredibly lucky.”
In the end, that was all the Recon Platoon Leader could say. Enkrid thought those words were appropriate. He couldn’t very well say that he had memorized the enemy’s movements and the camp’s state thanks to repeating the day every time he died.
“Yes, luck was on our side.”
If this was luck, it was no ordinary luck. It was as if the Goddess of Fortune had not just kissed him but slept with him. But in truth, there was no way to explain it other than luck.
Since it wasn’t something that needed to be kept secret, rumors began to circulate in the reconnaissance platoon. That Enkrid, the troublemaker squad leader, was a man followed by luck, a man to whom the Goddess of Fortune had entrusted her coins, luck itself. Or that he had used up a lifetime’s worth of luck on this one reconnaissance mission.
The journey back to the main unit was uneventful. The only thing that happened during the half-day walk was a light, drizzling rain. Rain fell from a clear sky.
It was rare, but something you might see from time to time. And throughout the return journey, Enkrid was absorbed in a single thought.
‘Was that the best I could do?’
It was a question he posed to himself. If he had repeated ‘today’ a few more times, could he have brought about a different result? Regret lingers in everything.
Enkrid had realized that from a young age. What’s important is the choice, and the process of that choice.
‘I thought it was the best.’
Because he could repeat the day, different thoughts naturally arose. The temptation and doubt of whether that was truly the best, the lingering regret of whether there might have been another option.
‘Only four.’
The number who had returned alive with him. Including himself, it was five. Half the unit had died.
The result threw a question at Enkrid. Was this the best you could do? Was there no other way?
‘Five died.’
Those five were not Enkrid’s family, nor his friends. They were just unit members he had spent a short time with. Their presence or absence changed nothing.
It was just that, in that moment, on that day, they were Enkrid’s responsibility. The dream he had cherished in his heart for a long time, the belief that had guided him straight until now, reproached him. Was that truly the best you could do?
Couldn’t you have protected more?
‘Just what kind of knight are you trying to become?’
It was Enkrid as a boy who had been captivated by the mere word, knight. The boy who had been mesmerized by a bard’s song about a knight from a past war had become an adult. As time passed, Enkrid learned that he was the owner of insignificant talent.
Tumbling through battlefields, he also realized his own limits. Nevertheless, he did not abandon his dream. Even if that dream became worn and tattered leather.
Even if it was ultimately torn and ripped into cloth scraps by the sword of reality. Because he had never given up. Therefore, he could be more than just someone captivated by the word knight.
A knight is one who protects, a knight is one who steps forward, a knight is one who shows what they stand for.
‘What kind of knight will I become?’
By repeating the day, Enkrid was able to step beyond his limits. If so, he should protect that something he had realized and established by seeing with his own eyes and hearing with his own ears.
‘What kind of knight did I want to become?’
When the dream, torn and tattered by reality, became the word belief and reproached him. Enkrid accepted the reproach. By doing so, he decided to move past what had already happened.
Because even if he could have saved five more by repeating the day, it was beyond his control now. That ‘today’ was already over. To dwell on it was a foolish thing to do.
“It’s the main unit.”
One of the soldiers walking with him said.
“Hooo, we’re saved.”
Enri, who was being supported from behind, muttered.
“So are you going to run straight to that flower shop widow when we get back?”
“I can’t go until this battle is over, can I?”
At Enkrid’s words, Enri replied with a joyful expression. The joy of having returned alive, of having survived through such hardship, filled his chest. It was the same for the others.
Especially the soldier who was a former thug. Throughout the return journey, he had mulled over the events of that day again and again. How had he managed to survive?
He thought he would live and die like a hoodlum his whole life, but somehow he ended up enlisting. And somehow, he ended up serving a lord named Andrew. And then this reconnaissance mission.
He had learned a great deal. The thug, lost in thought, limped on his injured leg and approached Enkrid’s side. It wasn’t intentional, but he hadn’t exchanged a single word with him the entire way back.
‘My old boss told me you’re not human if you don’t know gratitude.’
It was something the boss who took him in when he was young had said. That boss had died long ago and he could never see him again, but his words had become a guide for his life. Even though he had lived a rough and careless life, the thug knew gratitude.
“I’m sorry for being disrespectful. I’ll repay the debt of you saving my life when I get the chance.”
Enkrid stared at the soldier who had suddenly approached and spoken to him, then nodded. Did he really save his life? It was a situation where one wrong move meant death, so surviving was the soldier’s own luck.
In fact, there had been many times this soldier had died as he repeated the day. It was just that on that day, at that moment, the Goddess of Fortune had lingered for a while.
“Do as you please.”
He answered nonchalantly and turned away, only to see Andrew and Mac.
“We’re in your debt.”
Mac spoke first. His eyes held an unprecedented friendliness. Andrew was even more so.
“It would be good if we could see each other again.”
He had thought of him as an endlessly arrogant brat, but his attitude had changed. His gaze had become polite. Enkrid pressed a hand to his aching side and said.
“If we’re on the same battlefield, we’ll see each other again. The flower of the battlefield is.”
“The Infantry.”
He used the infantry unit’s slogan as a farewell. The Recon Platoon Leader, who had been watching from the side, approached.
“You are all dismissed. The injured should find the medical tent and take care of themselves. You’ve all worked hard. And, uh, never mind.”
The Recon Platoon Leader was about to speak to Enkrid about his performance and reward before turning away, but he stopped.
‘First, the report.’
Hadn’t he accomplished something unbelievable even after hearing about it? He didn’t even know if his superiors would believe it, so he thought it was too early to talk about such things.
“Well then.”
Feeling the pain in his side quickly subsiding, Enkrid decided he didn’t need treatment and immediately started walking. It was time to return.
‘I wonder if everything’s alright.’
He hadn’t had a moment to think about such things in the tall-grass field, but now that he was back at the unit and heading for his barracks, he wondered if his squad members had behaved themselves. Maybe they got into a fight with another unit’s members. Or maybe they had a bloody fight amongst themselves.
Whatever it was, he had a feeling something had happened. His squad wasn’t called the troublemaker squad for nothing. He hadn’t even reached the barracks yet.
Clang!
A deafening sound, one that could only be made when steel met steel, struck his ears. The hearing training he learned through Jacksen paid off. He located the source of the sound in an instant.
It was near the main unit’s barracks. Enkrid’s steps quickened. As he approached the barracks, he saw a circle of people.
And in the center, he saw two figures with an axe and a sword locked together. The location was in front of the troublemaker squad’s barracks. The one holding the axe was Rem.
The one holding the sword was Ragna.