I heard a healer had come and gone, for he had suffered cuts and piercing wounds all over his body.
“Fortunately, they say there will be no permanent disabilities. You're lucky, our Squad Leader.”
Big Eyes said with a smile.
“You say that like you wished I'd gotten hurt.”
“No, I'm just worried. Worried. You should feel honored. You're the first man I've ever worried about, Squad Leader.”
“Alright.”
I thought we would be withdrawing soon, but our forces were still in a standoff with the Azpen Dukedom. Will there be more fighting? Even if there were, it would have nothing to do with Enkrid.
It would be impossible to stand on the battlefield again with a body like this. Unless, perhaps, it was just to watch. Big Eyes had left an apple, and as Enkrid was munching on it, Rem came in.
The entire squad was away, so the barracks were empty. Rem sat next to Enkrid, rested his elbows on his knees, and propped his chin on the back of his hands. With his lips pressed into a firm line, Rem stared intently at Enkrid.
“If you're thinking of confessing, I'll turn you down first.”
“Don't you know I'm into women? If you and a woman I'd never seen before were drowning, I'd save the woman. Assuming she's pretty, of course.”
“It's fine. I'm a good swimmer. I can survive just fine without you saving me.”
“Then save me later. Come to think of it, I'm not a very good swimmer.”
Then what was this bastard thinking, saying he'd save a drowning woman. Enkrid thought it was just so typical of Rem.
“Right. I'll throw you a rock.”
It was the usual banter. Then, Rem stopped talking and stared intently at Enkrid. His gray eyes looked straight at Enkrid, unblinking.
A never-before-seen seriousness could be felt in them.
“Got something to say?”
“How did you know it was sorcery?”
Hmm?
Enkrid hadn't expected to be asked this question here.
“I saw it during the reconnaissance mission.”
“You figured out it was sorcery just by seeing that? You seemed to be running as if you knew the flagpole was the target.”
That was right. That was the target. He knew everything.
But he couldn't say that he knew because he had repeated the day. He needed a suitable excuse. So he tried to get by with various lies and excuses, but the gray eyes staring at him kept nagging at his conscience.
Even if he told the truth, Rem wouldn't believe him. But should he dismiss it all with a lie? A clumsy lie would be seen through instantly.
He had a gut feeling about that. Enkrid didn't want to treat Rem that way. So he mixed truth with his words.
“I used to live with someone who was a settler.”
It was the truth. Because Rem was a settler.
“I heard a few things from that friend.”
This was also true. Because Rem had told him about sorcery.
“So I mulled it over and made a guess.”
This couldn't be called the complete truth, but in a way, it could be said to be close to it. Instead of mulling it over and guessing, he had repeated the day and learned through grueling experience. It could be said that he thought with his body instead of his mind.
At least, that's what Enkrid believed as he spoke.
“The flagpole seemed to be the medium for the sorcery. I saw that the enemy formation was strange before the fog rolled in, and well, after that, I charged.”
“Hmm.”
Why are people so easily deceived when lies are mixed with the truth? It was because the speaker says it with sincerity. Because of that sincerity, even someone with good intuition would find it difficult to find the mark of a lie in the other's words.
Enkrid spoke with complete sincerity, except for the parts he couldn't say. Rem believed him. Even if he didn't fully believe it, it wasn't something he could press him on.
“So that's what it was? It was amazing that you figured it out right away.”
“What about sorcery?”
“I was going to tell you that you shouldn't use such things carelessly.”
“Really?”
Rem nodded.
Enkrid remembered that Rem had been absent on the day of the battle. They had definitely charged together, so he had expected Rem to come to where he was, but that hadn't happened. He hadn't seen him at all after that.
Then he returned to the unit.
“I've been meaning to ask where you went during the battle.”
“It was nothing. I was just really curious who the guy who put up that flagpole was, so I went to have a look.”
“... You went to have a look?”
“I had a chat with my axe, too.”
Rem grinned and went outside the barracks. Enkrid recalled the moment he had knocked down the flagpole. That shaman bastard had been shaking some bells before quickly disappearing from sight.
At the time, he had been too busy destroying the flag to pay any mind. It seemed the shaman had tried to slip away alone afterward and ran into Rem's axe. Enkrid thought it was no big deal and moved on.
It wasn't the first or second time Rem had done something impulsive. In a previous battle, he had even charged into the enemy lines to catch some guy called Hawk's Talon. The Platoon Leader, who knew this, had cleanly excluded the troublemaker squad from his strategic calculations.
He only counted the remaining squads as the platoon's strength. It was the same this time. However, there was one thing that was different from usual.
This time, it was Enkrid who had broken formation first. That was the unusual part.
“Hey, you alright?”
The Platoon Leader had come to the barracks.
“Are you here for a visit? Aren't we returning?”
Enkrid asked bluntly. The Platoon Leader shrugged.
“The orders haven't come down from above yet. Everyone's on standby.”
Winter is coming. It's a season where it's difficult to continue fighting. They wouldn't completely abandon this position, but since our battalion put in a lot of effort in this battle, they should be relieved.
So it was strange that the order to return hadn't come down yet. The Platoon Leader looked at Enkrid and scratched his head.
“You.”
“Yes.”
Enkrid's desertion of the formation—at the time, the Platoon Leader hadn't thought it was a big deal. He had only thought, 'Has Enkrid finally gone mad?' Afterward, he barely survived thanks to the shouts to get down and raise shields.
Just when he thought he was dead in the fog, it suddenly lifted. They turned the tables and fought the enemy. He heard later that the fog was sorcery, and that sorcery has a medium, and unless that medium is broken or the shaman is killed, the spell won't be broken.
He had heard it all from the company commander.
“Who could have done it?”
The company commander had asked, staring at him with his green eyes. At that moment, the Platoon Leader thought of Enkrid's name. He concluded that, at the very least, his squad had done something.
Why, right before the fog rolled in, hadn't Enkrid rushed out? And those shouts had sounded like Enkrid's voice, too. The Platoon Leader gathered his thoughts and opened his mouth.
“They said it was sorcery, that fog.”
“Ah, yes, that's right. I reported it.”
Right.
It was what Enkrid, who had been dispatched on a reconnaissance mission, had reported.
“Mm. So you did.”
The Platoon Leader looked at Enkrid for a moment, then told him to take care of himself and stood up.
'Impossible.'
He knew Enkrid's skill level. He wasn't bottom-rank. At best, he might be fit to be a village watch captain somewhere.
There were many fearsome men among the squad members under him, but Enkrid was not one of them. The medium for the sorcery must have been deep inside the enemy lines, unless the enemy were complete fools and idiots. That meant someone had to have infiltrated that far.
'Through that thick fog?' While being showered with quarrels and arrows? The troublemaker squad leader?
Not a chance. He asked if Rem had done it, just in case, but the answer was no. Ragna was out of the question. When the fog lifted, he was already fighting by his side.
Then perhaps it was the other squad members, but they had also been fighting as part of the platoon's rear formation. 'Did support come from the main unit?' The Platoon Leader wondered as he stepped out of the barracks.
The temperature had suddenly dropped, and a chill had set in.
“Are we really not returning?”
He, too, missed the city air. He wanted to see his home, his wife, and his daughter. He wanted to roast potatoes over a fire and sleep soundly.
After lying in bed for two days, Enkrid was able to get up and move around.
“Shouldn't you take it easy?”
Big Eyes worried, but Enkrid's condition was better than expected.
“That beast is gone, right?”
Big Eyes asked. Enkrid, who was sitting up at an angle on the bed, nodded and looked around.
“Seems so. I don't see it.”
“It seemed to follow you well, Squad Leader.”
“Weren't you scared of it?”
“I was scared. It's a beast. A beast.”
“It still seemed like a cub.”
“You know the hunter named Enri who went on reconnaissance with you? I heard he went out with you, Squad Leader.”
Big Eyes asked suddenly. Enkrid nodded and thought. This Big Eyes guy, he sure knows a lot of people.
How does he even know Enri?
“That friend is a prairie hunter, you see.”
Enkrid knew that better than anyone. He had learned a lot from him directly.
“Enri said that many beasts live in the Green Pearl Plains, and among them, there is one that is the best. Do you know what it is?”
“What is it?”
“The blue-eyed black panther, the Lake Panther. They also call it the Lake Panther.”
Big Eyes made a fuss. The story seemed to have greatly piqued his interest.
“They call it the Lake Panther because its eyes are like a lake. Anyway, they say that although these creatures hunt gazelles or wildebeest, they usually live by swallowing some kind of energy from the ground. They are spirit beasts. I heard a single one of its claws is worth more than ten thousand krona.”
Krona was a monetary unit created by the empire. One bronze coin was considered 1 krona. One hundred bronze coins were one silver coin, and again, one hundred silver coins were one gold coin.
So ten thousand krona was the value of one gold coin. One gold coin for a single claw. That was more than Enkrid's salary.
“That claw was slitting people's throats. Do you think you could pull it out?”
“... Agh, I'm not that greedy.”
Big Eyes waved his hands dismissively. As Enkrid moved his body moderately, sweat formed on his forehead. A dull pain flared up as well.
Still, this much was manageable. Having died so many times, it was nothing to guess the state of his wounds by the degree of pain.
“If you overdo it, they'll get worse.”
Jacksen said, watching him. Everyone else was gone; only Big Eyes and Jacksen remained.
“I'm pacing myself.”
After giving a rough answer and moving his body again, he remembered deflecting the mustached man's strike. How was that possible? If he were told to do it again, could he?
He didn't know. Could he not? No, it felt like he could do it again if he tried a few more times.
As he was lost in deep thought, Rem and Ragna returned.
“Walk a bit further away. Your laziness is contagious.”
Rem started picking a fight.
“Why are you so eager to die every day?”
Ragna returned the taunt twofold. Before the fight could escalate, Enkrid spoke first.
“I have a question. About swordsmanship.”
Both their gazes turned to him.
“Go on.”
“If it's about swordsmanship, then I should be the one to answer.”
As the two glared at each other again, Enkrid quickly continued his explanation. It wasn't a difficult story. He had seen the enemy do it a few times, and it had sunk into his body, coming out unconsciously.
That was the gist of it. He recounted what he had felt as calmly as possible.
“Isn't that just something that happens when you keep at it?”
Rem answered first.
“An interesting experience. I've been like that since I was young, so I don't think it's special, but in the Squad Leader's case... hmm, yes. It is a blessing from the Lord. The Goddess of Fortune must have missed a step and spilled her gold coins.”
Ragna added.
Neither of them gave a particularly helpful answer. Then the two started bickering again with Enkrid in the middle, and a more detailed explanation came out.
“Sometimes, your vision opens up when you fight. They say it usually happens once after countless, truly countless, real battles. The chances are even higher if you've achieved Single Point Focus.”
“The Heart of the Beast has settled into your body a bit, hasn't it? You've gained the ability to stare at your opponent without blinking. With such an opportunity, that is, if you could clearly see your opponent using their sword right in front of you, there must have been times when you could see their swordsmanship or the distribution of their strength. Then your body would react on its own, but that's only if you have the fundamentals down.”
“Fundamentals are fundamentals, but you'd have to go through hundreds of harsh battles.”
Hearing their words, Enkrid was able to reach a conclusion.
'Ah.'
To some, today was just a single day. To Enkrid, it was hundreds of fiercely fought todays. Not todays spent just giving up.
But todays spent struggling and doing his best every moment. The countless hours spent enduring and enjoying it had brought him this fortune. In truth, it wasn't really fortune.
It was the natural result. It was the price for his research, for trying to overcome even while being cut, stabbed, scratched, and killed. At its foundation, of course, were the Heart of the Beast, which gave him courage, and Single Point Focus.
'I'm grateful for them all over again.' Therefore, it was thanks to these two. Moreover, hadn't Ragna completely overhauled the foundation of his swordsmanship?
The battle with Mitch Hurrier, the pursuit by the mustached man, today on the battlefield. Complex thoughts filled his mind, giving rise to a single desire. He wanted to hold a sword again.
He wanted to swing it. He wanted to test how well the final gliding technique had settled into his body.
“I want to spar.”
As Enkrid muttered, both Rem and Ragna shook their heads. Rem even added, “Since I was young, I've often been told that I'm not normal, that I'm crazy, but from what I see, you're an even crazier bastard than me, Squad Leader.” Of all people, that was the one thing he really didn't want to hear from Rem.
Didn't he bully the soldiers around him at the drop of a hat? Didn't he try to blow his superior's head off? To be on the same level as a lunatic like him, no, even crazier.
“Today, I must agree with him. What sparring can you do with that body?”
Are they ganging up on him like this just because he wants to spar? Enkrid felt deeply wronged.
“Sparring is impossible with that body, Squad Leader.”
Flap.
A voice was heard as the flap that served as the tent's door was pushed aside. When he looked up, he saw the Elf Company Commander. As Enkrid tried to sit up, the company commander strode over.
“Was it you?”
The company commander asked bluntly, before he could even salute. Enkrid looked at the beautiful elf, who was as cold and sharp as a sculpture made by an artist, and moistened his parched lips before trying to speak. He had actually expected this question to come from her, not Rem.
How did you break the sorcery? That was a question for the command to ask.