“We won.”
“Damn it, we won!”
“You sons of bitches from Azpen!”
Victory brought cheers. Cheers brought fervor. Fervor brought madness.
The interlocking, blazing energy swept across the entire battlefield. When does one achieve the greatest success on the battlefield? It is when chasing the tails of a fleeing enemy.
Naurilia fiercely bit and tore at Azpen’s tail.
“Uwaaaah!”
The joy of victory swept over the allies before they could even honor the dead. It was only natural that a hint of madness could be seen. They had almost been annihilated just a few days ago.
The terror of death brought by the fog was still deeply etched in their hearts. And now, having won an overwhelming victory on the battlefield while still holding that fear...
“Long live the Red Cloak Knights!”
“Long live Naurilia!”
The Squire did not reveal his name. In place of the nameless Squire, the name of the order of knights was exalted.
“Long live the Red Cloak Knights!”
Those cheers, that fervor, that madness. At the forefront of the battlefield, the one receiving all these cheers was at its center.
Flutter.
The Squire, his symbolic red cloak fluttering, raised a hand in response to the cheers.
“Uwaaaah!”
Among the soldiers drunk on the fervor of victory, some shed tears of joy. Everyone let out a cheer. Drunk on madness.
Seeing this, Enkrid quietly muttered.
“Me too.”
Although no one heard him, those words contained his long-held dream. The madness and fervor were contagious, making Enkrid's heart race. The end of the battle, the night of the last day on the battlefield.
Though quite a few people had died, Enkrid felt a sense of exhilaration. He recalled the words of a swordsmanship instructor from a big city, one who was missing three fingers.
“A guy with no talent who makes a living by the sword? He’s one of two things. A guy who enjoys the battlefield, or a guy who enjoys killing. Ah, I guess it’s one of three. There are also those who live without any thought.”
‘I think I'm the type who enjoys the battlefield.’
He envied the cheers. He had the desire to stand at the forefront. He wanted to do more than just swing a sword; he wanted to tear through the battlefield.
The reason he had polished his martial arts was not solely because he was captivated by the sword. Enkrid thought about what he had done in this battle. All he did was struggle desperately to survive.
In the end, he did earn merit by tearing the flag and breaking the sorcery's medium.
‘But that, too, was a desperate struggle to survive.’
The sudden surge of exhilaration brought forth the greed and desire that Enkrid had hidden behind his dreams, forgotten due to his lack of talent.
‘A knight.’
I will become one. I must become one. It was a moment of renewed resolve.
“Damn noisy.”
Rem, who wandered the battlefield without a thought in his head, said as he picked his ear. He didn't seem to enjoy the battlefield or killing. He showed no signs of exhilaration.
Next to him, Ragna yawned.
“Haaah, isn't it over now? Can't we withdraw tonight?”
As if they would withdraw tonight. This bastard must be one of the thoughtless ones, too. Jacksen was wiping his blade with a piece of leather.
He was already tending to his sword. He didn't speak or show it on the outside, but was Jacksen also the type to enjoy something? I don't know.
Isn't he the type who's good at hiding himself?
“Wow, the battle just ended in a snap. I wonder if it would sell if I made it into a story or a song?”
“Do you know how to write songs, brother?”
“No. I'll have to hire another bard.”
“Making a song about something you didn't see yourself is fraud.”
“Fraud? What a thing to say. That's not what it is, Audin.”
It was a conversation between Big Eyes, who wondered if he could even sell the battlefield, and the inscrutable devout Squad Member. On the day Enkrid tore the medium of the sorcery, he heard that the devout Squad Member's entire body was soaked red, as if he had bathed in blood. That meant he had fought ferociously.
He too looked quiet and calm, but he possessed immense martial prowess. I don't know why he stands on the battlefield. His thoughts trailed on, and Enkrid imagined his squad members in his place.
‘If it had been Rem.’
He wouldn't have stopped at just piercing and tearing the flag. If it had been Ragna, or Jacksen, or the devout Squad Member. All of them would have fought better than him.
‘Next time, I'll do more.’
As the exhilaration of the battlefield constricted his heart, desire bloomed in Enkrid's chest in reaction. The night the battle ended, the command post distributed alcohol and food. Salted rabbit and deer meat were served, along with strong liquor from large oak barrels.
“It's liquor, liquor!”
Rem and Ragna went crazy for alcohol.
“I only drink wine.”
The devout Squad Member refused the strong liquor, and Jacksen didn't touch alcohol in the first place.
“Women are better than alcohol.”
He was the kind of guy who said things like that without hesitation. Why did women flock to him when he talked like that?
‘Is a handsome face really the answer?’
Then again, Enkrid himself had women flocking to him without any effort. It was thanks to his face. On top of that, his trained, ripped, muscular body was truly a weapon that captured women's hearts.
“This is cheap liquor. I'm not drinking it.”
Big Eyes had a refined palate. As the night deepened, the battalion commander entered the barracks.
“444 Squad Leader?”
Hearing his name called, Enkrid rose to his feet. The fervor had cooled down a bit, and everyone was getting ready for bed. Enkrid hadn't touched any alcohol due to his injuries.
Thanks to that, he avoided the misfortune of not recognizing the battalion commander's face.
“An injured man drinking? A mere injured man drinking? You're drinking even though you're hurt?”
Rem nagged him.
“It's best to refrain. You need to recover your body first.”
Jacksen also advised against it. Ragna silently shook his head. Big Eyes snickered at Enkrid.
His squad members were truly crazy. At the battalion commander's call, he went outside. Waving his hand dismissively at a salute, the battalion commander, who reeked of alcohol, spoke.
“The flag was the medium for the sorcery? And you're the one who tore it.”
It sounded like he had found the Spellbreaker who had made the absolute contribution on this battlefield.
Crack, crackle.
Embers from the bonfire shot into the air, creating sparks.
“Yes.”
Enkrid answered calmly.
“There will be a reward when we return. You did well.”
The battalion commander patted Enkrid's shoulder. It was quite a remarkable achievement. It was the first time he had spoken with the battalion commander since becoming a Squad Leader.
That's how great Enkrid's deed was. He had turned the tide of the battlefield. However, only a handful of people knew about it.
To be precise, only the command staff knew. The credit for overcoming the sorcery in this battle would probably be claimed by the command staff. He wasn't upset about that.
The reward would be hefty instead.
‘I don't regret it.’
Normally, he should have taken credit for what he did.
‘It was a desperate struggle.’
After seeing a knight, no, a mere Squire, his thoughts had changed a lot. He felt he had gained more than this petty achievement.
“You've got a good head on your shoulders.”
After the battalion commander patted his shoulder and left, Enkrid was about to go back inside the barracks when he heard a light tapping sound on the ground.
“What is it?”
When he turned his gaze to the source of the sound, he saw eyes that resembled emeralds. Seeing them in the middle of the night, they had a somewhat ghostly, eerie feel. An otherworldly beauty.
It was the Elf Company Commander.
“The reward for tearing the flag won't be a paltry one.”
As if that was all she had to say, the company commander turned around after speaking. He thought she was leaving, but she turned only her head back and opened her mouth.
“No salute?”
When Enkrid belatedly made a motion of pressing his weapon with his left hand, the Elf Company Commander waved her hand dismissively.
“That's enough. I'm leaving.”
What kind of elf is she? After the company commander left and he entered the barracks, Rem was lying on his side with his arm propping up his head.
“You can't abandon me just because you've gotten popular, Squad Leader.”
“Are you drunk?”
“I'm not drunk.”
He was joking around. The night was deep. Enkrid closed his eyes and replayed what he had seen and felt from the Squire in his mind.
There was a lot to do once his body healed.
After waking up, the Naurilia infantry battalion headed for the Border Guard. After a four-day march, they could see the walls of the fortress city, the Border Guard. It was a city with long walls built in a basin higher than the surrounding area, with three large watchtowers standing tall. This was the final bastion defending against the Azpen Dukedom. The frontier fortress, the Border Guard.
The appearance of a Squire from the Red Cloak Knights had the potential to change the tide of the war. The reason the local conflicts in the Green Pearl Plains had been kept small-scale until now was because of an unwritten rule not to deploy the forces of the order of knights.
In this situation, the Naurilia Kingdom played their trump card and sent out a Squire. Naurilia had broken the unwritten rule. No matter that the one who took to the battlefield was in the process of transitioning from a Squire to an apprentice knight, a line had been crossed.
“Those sons of bitches?”
The Duke of Azpen erupted in anger. His eyes turned red and veins bulged on his forehead.
“Send ours out too!”
But they couldn't just send them out because he said so. It was winter. Starting a war in winter would cause a severe decline in national power for both countries.
If a full-scale war was anticipated instead of a local conflict, they needed to gather their strength as a nation. Most importantly, Azpen's main forces were currently absent due to certain circumstances. To fight properly, Azpen also needed time.
At the tail end of a war, even if the opponent was so angry their head was about to explode like a volcano, they had to endure it if winter was approaching. Naurilia must have anticipated this, which is why they deployed their forces at the very end of the war.
Conversely, Azpen had also timed the onset of winter to deploy their shaman. However, while the sword they had prepared was blocked, the dagger the other side had prepared was lodged deep in their forearm.
It hurt.
It hurt so much that they might lose the use of an arm.
“At least put diplomatic pressure on them. Sending a knight to the battlefield is a problem, isn't it?”
The Duke, famous for his martial prowess, breathed fire from his nose, unable to let it go. He didn't raise his voice, but one could feel the seething anger in it, like simmering water. The Azpen Dukedom was a nation built around three major families.
The Duke of Azpen. The Hurrier family of military might. And the Ekkins family of administration and state affairs.
Diplomacy was the responsibility of the Ekkins family. Minister Ekkins was in a difficult position. It was because of the letter sent from Naurilia.
The fact that the letter arrived around the same time the member of the Red Cloak Knights was deployed was proof that Naurilia had perfectly prepared their excuse. The letter stated that they had sent the knight to respond to the appearance of Azpen's General Frokk in the enemy camp. The reason was plausible.
Far too fitting. Why the hell did that bastard General Frokk have to go there of all places? Frokk was the type to live as he pleased.
This kind of problem was bound to happen from the moment they put him in a soldier's uniform.
‘Even if it wasn't the general, they would have come up with some other excuse.’
Ekkins was no fool. Naurilia wouldn't have impulsively sent a knight. General Frokk became the excuse, but even if it hadn't been him, Naurilia would have fabricated a suitable excuse.
To put it simply, Azpen had been outplayed. The beginning of all this was because the sorcery had been broken. If the Fog of Annihilation had succeeded, unless a true knight arrived, the long, drawn-out local conflict on the Green Pearl Plains would have been a great victory for Azpen.
Ekkins recalled the report that a single enemy soldier had ruined the sorcery.
‘Are these bastards making excuses that one enemy soldier ruined it after they failed to keep watch?’
Did that even make sense? All those involved in this incident would have to take responsibility. The shaman was found dead after fleeing during the retreat.
Whether it was a passing bandit or someone else, everyone, including the escorts and the shaman, had been split in half.
‘Nothing is going right. Nothing.’
“Hey, are you just going to let this slide?!”
The king shouted, forgetting his dignity. This autumn, the trump card that had been initiated at Ekkins's strong insistence had backfired. The stagnant local battlefield ended up being marked by Azpen's defeat.
Ten days later, Enkrid felt that his body had fully recovered. So, as soon as he got up, Enkrid immediately went to find Rem.
“Rem.”
“What is it?”
Rem, having finished his guard duty, stood before Enkrid.
“Let's have a round.”
“A round of what?”
“Sparring.”
“... Didn't you just recover?”
What did that have to do with anything? My body is itching for a fight right now. Enkrid said it with his expression.
If this was a skill, it was a skill. To express the meaning held in his heart with just his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth.
“Let's do it. If you want to, you should. You need to get beaten up again.”
“Bring it on. You arrogant foreigner.”
“Oh my, you want your leg broken this time?”
Rem accepted Enkrid's provocation with a smile. The two of them soon went outside the barracks. Watching them, Ragna didn't know about the other things Rem said, but he agreed with one thing.
Of all the crazy bastards he had seen, his Squad Leader was the best. How could someone with such mediocre talent jump to fight the moment he got up? Less than thirty minutes later, Enkrid opened the barracks door again.
“Ragna, come out. I'll wash away your laziness.”
It was an excited Squad Leader. Even though he seemed to have bled from one side of his head, with a scab remaining near his temple, his expression was bright.
“Yes, yes, let's do it.”
Ragna didn't waste his energy on pointless arguments either. It would be over after a few bouts. This was their daily life.