After the battle, Enkrid fulfilled his duties as a member of the Border Guard’s standing armies. He stood guard duty and patrolled inside the city. In his remaining time, he devoted himself solely to the sword every day.
For someone seeing Enkrid for the first time, it was a routine so repetitive it could be sickening. But it was also a peaceful routine that everyone around him thought nothing of. In truth, even if someone had been watching him, he wouldn't have cared.
He had sunk deep within himself, lost in thought.
‘How can I win?’
Or how could he wield the sword better. It was a time to check and reflect on what he had. Seeing the knight's skill, the desire to become even better than that boiled up like mad.
But he wasn't impatient. Slowly, one by one. Even if it was slow, he would definitely move forward.
That was Enkrid's specialty.
‘Heart of the Beast, Sense of the Blade, Single Point Focus.’
To move forward, he used everything he learned from Rem, Jacksen, and Ragna in his sparring. At first, he mostly sparred with Rem, and later Ragna joined in. Then Jacksen also chimed in occasionally.
“Before your brain turns to muscle, I'll provide some fresh air.”
“Huh? Was that meant for me?”
A single thoughtless word sparked a fire between Rem and Jacksen, but to Enkrid, it was just a peaceful part of his daily life. Sparring with Rem was rough. It required split-second improvisation and judgment.
He had to focus with boldness as his foundation. It was a time when his body had to move before his mind could think. Ragna was a bit different.
It was a fight focused on swordsmanship itself. Even if he started on the offensive, a moment of carelessness would quickly put him on the defensive. He had to pay attention to the overall flow of the fight throughout the sparring.
Jacksen was different from these two. Jacksen used a lot of tricks. He deceived with sound, with the movement of his feet and hands, and even with a slight shrug of his shoulder.
He had to pay attention to every movement. It became a fight that required reflexive thinking.
“Clear your mind of distracting thoughts. Focus on the present.”
That was what Jacksen said. The knight had already been erased from Enkrid’s mind. He repeated what he could do every day.
A fortnight after returning to the Border Guard, there was a ceremony for awarding merits.
“These are the ones who contributed to the victory against the wicked Azpen!”
The battalion commander distributed the reward money. Among them, Enkrid's reward was the largest.
“This reward is given for the merit of discovering and dispelling the sorcery!”
The adjutant loudly proclaimed Enkrid’s achievement.
‘They’re actually announcing all of it?’
He thought the command staff would have quickly taken the credit for themselves, but they calmly acknowledged his contribution. Among the several company commanders lined up next to the battalion commander, an elf with emerald eyes stood out. Did the company commander do something?
He couldn't know. And it didn't seem like she would answer if he asked.
“This is our victory!”
The battalion commander shouted of victory once more. But no one was swept up in madness like on the last night of the battle. The soldiers in the front, led by the Platoon Leaders, clapped their hands.
When Enkrid returned to his spot, a few soldiers in the back saw him and started muttering amongst themselves.
“Sorcery? He destroyed that flag all by himself?”
“One of his squad members must have done it.”
“Surely he didn’t do it alone.”
“They're saying the fog was sorcery, and he got rid of it? Surely not. That Squad Leader?”
It was something they could say if they knew the usual Enkrid. That’s what Enkrid thought. But Rem didn’t. “Looks like the kids these days miss the taste of my axe.”
He said it with a blank expression, and the meaning behind his words was terrifying. This was a man whose hobby was smacking fellow soldiers on the head.
“Why do they do this stuff? I could be getting some more sleep in this time.”
Ragna glanced back and grumbled. The battalion commander's speech seemed terribly boring. Enkrid, as Squad Leader, soothed him.
The battalion commander was in the middle of talking about himself for a long time. It was a festival of bullshit about what his role on the battlefield was, how sending the reconnaissance team was actually his idea, and how he knew it was sorcery the moment he saw the flag.
Perhaps out of boredom, the chatter badmouthing Enkrid from behind gradually increased.
“That troublemaker squad leader, you think he secretly sneaks into the battalion commander's quarters?”
“Hey, what kind of nonsense is that? It’s not like he’s a male prostitute.”
The guy who said the word 'male prostitute' laughed even louder at his own words. This was also something he heard often. The Squad Leader who survived by sucking up to his squad members.
He hadn't cared about these words even back when his skills were terrible. Now, it had gone beyond letting it go in one ear and out the other; he was at a level where he didn't even register it if he heard it. Enkrid ignored it again and moved on.
But his Squad Member did not.
“Looks like you’re having fun?”
It was Jacksen. The auburn-haired Squad Member, who had moved at some point, had his arms around the shoulders of the soldiers who had been running their mouths. Enkrid didn't even know when Jacksen had moved.
He could see the two soldiers flinch in surprise. Jacksen ducked his head low between the two and whispered something. Since he was speaking with his head down, his lips couldn't be read, but after his words, the two soldiers shut their mouths.
Their faces turning pale was an added bonus. Jacksen leisurely returned to his original spot.
“What did you say?”
Rem asked, curious. Ragna also perked up his ears, and Big Eyes and the devout Squad Member subtly leaned their bodies toward Jacksen. Enkrid didn't care what they were chattering about, but he was also curious about what Jacksen had said.
“Just some advice, advice needed for living life.”
“Don't make me laugh.”
Rem scoffed at him. Enkrid hadn't seen it, no, even Big Eyes hadn't seen it, but the other three had. In Jacksen's hands, which were draped over their shoulders, were short knives.
With their tips pointed precisely at their necks, who wouldn't feel a chill down their spine?
“Do you need some advice too?”
Jacksen asked Rem. His attitude was casual. Hearing that, Rem laughed, a vein popping on his forehead.
“Quiet. The battalion commander is giving a speech.”
Enkrid intervened at the right time to stop them. Despite Jacksen’s show of force, the dissatisfaction towards Enkrid remained. It was criticism steeped in jealousy and envy.
Originally an unremarkable person. Originally a being who struggled at the bottom, left behind. Originally a Squad Leader who barely survived thanks to his squad members.
That was Enkrid's position. Being a bottom-rank soldier also played a part. But now, such a soldier had supposedly dispelled sorcery.
The battalion commander himself praised his merits, and reward money came down from the kingdom. There were more people who were envious with the hearts of snakes than those who were purely happy. Since ancient times in Naurilia, snakes were often depicted as cunning, jealous, and hideous creatures that couldn't stand to see others succeed.
That's why such cases were referred to as showing a 'snake's heart'. The soldiers' behavior right now was exactly that. They were displeased with the achievement of someone who should be worse than them.
Many soldiers couldn't easily admit that he had saved them by dispelling the sorcery.
“Surely not, that Squad Leader?”
Even if it wasn't a complaint, the single phrase spoken just now represented this whole situation. Surely, that Squad Leader couldn't have done anything. In it was a mix of disdain, envy, and jealousy.
“Hmm, everyone sure has a lot to say.”
It was enough for Big Eyes, who would usually let it slide, to say a word. The battalion commander's speech ended. The leather pouch he received was heavy.
If it wasn't bronze coins, it was a pretty large sum. Enkrid decided to buy a sword with the heavy pouch.
“Everyone disperse! It’s time to change shifts.”
The battalion's adjutant announced the end of the tedious time.
“Wanna go for a round right now? You got duty?”
As everyone was about to disperse, Enkrid asked Rem. Rem found this man truly, deeply, fascinating.
“Ever thought about playing with those kids who were running their mouths instead of me?”
“Them? Do I have to? Would it be helpful?”
The Squad Leader only looks at the sword again. Seeing that, Rem's heart felt warm. How could a person be so consistent?
Dealing with the punks who ran their mouths could wait.
“Let's do it. Sparring.”
Rem was suddenly reminded of when he first saw Enkrid at the Border Guard. Back then, he was beyond pathetic, a moron who only used tricks.
And now?
The time they clashed again in the city after the battle flashed through his mind.
‘Where did he learn these fundamentals?’
The Heavy Sword Style, and a swordsmanship that looked like it was taught by a solid, prestigious family. It was to the point where he wondered if it was the same person.
“You’ve improved a lot.”
After saying that, Rem immediately shifted up a gear. He had to. Sparring playfully like before was no longer enough.
Rem took it lightly, but Ragna was quite surprised right after sparring with Enkrid.
‘Even if I taught him, he couldn’t have done better.’
The Squad Leader’s skills had improved that much. His fundamentals were good, and as for Single Point Focus, he seemed to have taught it to him in passing, but he did that well too. But this wasn't an awkward thing.
Single Point Focus was a way of pushing oneself into a kind of trance state. If you had the talent, it could be achieved in a day. He himself was like that.
It was amazing that the Squad Leader had achieved it, but...
‘It’s not impossible.’
The thought that if he could do it, the other person could too, was the mindset of a genius. That was how Ragna understood Enkrid’s current state. Jacksen felt joy facing the Squad Leader whose skills had suddenly improved so much.
‘This is fun?’
What is a sword, what is a spear, what are weapons including daggers? They are nothing more than tools for killing someone. He had treated weapons as tools his entire life until now.
But strangely, after clashing with the Squad Leader, he felt refreshed. To the point that he briefly forgot the goal Jacksen himself had set. That was what was so strange.
So he wanted to take care of the Squad Leader even more. Standing to one side, the devout Squad Member, Audin Peumrei, stared intently at the Squad Leader. His insight was rather unique.
‘His skills improved dramatically in a single day.’
Did the Squad Leader have this much talent for physical things? If so, he should have shown improvement afterwards as well. But now, he had stagnated again.
There can be a period of stagnation in learning and mastering anything. Audin knew that too, but he always felt a sense of awkwardness when he looked at the Squad Leader.
‘Something is subtly strange.’
Still, it was probably not something to worry about. Or it was comforting to think that it was the blessing of a god. Enkrid was a person who trained himself to the point of exhaustion, feeling that a day was too short.
If such a person didn't receive a blessing, then who should? Audin embraced the topic that started with the Squad Leader. God and man, blessings and curses.
He took everything that came to mind as a topic for contemplation and fell deep into thought.
“Seems decent.”
Enkrid bought a sword.
“It’s more than decent. That one’s mixed with Valery Mountain Steel!” the blacksmith said, a vein popping on his forehead.
“Is that so?”
Enkrid asked back, holding the sword and examining the blade. The characteristic bluish trail of Valery Mountain Steel was nowhere to be seen. Seeing him inspect the blade like an expert, the blacksmith continued.
“I said it was mixed, not that it is Valery Mountain Steel.”
“Yes.”
Valery Mountain Steel was a high-quality metal renowned throughout the continent. Steel from the Valery region had high elasticity and didn't break easily. A sword made of Valery Mountain Steel would not easily chip.
Once an edge was put on it, it became a very sturdy weapon. And on the battlefield, what ally is more reassuring than a sturdy sword? That's why everyone desired a weapon made of Valery Mountain Steel.
If not that, there was Imperial Steel, but since Imperial Steel wasn't allowed outside the empire, Valery Mountain Steel was the best one could get.
“I'll take this one.”
Spending half of his reward money on a single sword made Big Eyes, who had come along, shake his head.
“Why would you spend so many krona on a sword? You can just use one lying around on the battlefield, or you can get one if you put in a supply request.”
“Wouldn’t you be pissed if you got stabbed and died while using a shoddy sword?”
“... If you put it that way, I have nothing to say. So, are you going to apply for a promotion right now?”
“Yeah.”
He had recently polished the techniques he had ingrained in his body through countless sparring sessions. Now he wanted to test his skills.
‘How far can I go?’
Right now, he was bottom-rank. He judged that he was at least mid-rank or higher. What about high-rank?
Top-rank? Special-grade?
Naurilia had introduced a soldier ranking system to boost the morale of its soldiers. To get promoted, one had to defeat a soldier of a higher rank. Challenges were always accepted.
There were even people within the unit who arranged these kinds of spars. It was a simple but effective method.
“Yes, let’s go then.”
And arranging these spars was something Big Eyes also did. Krais, Big Eyes, would do anything that made money. Since promotion spars involved gambling, it was profitable.
The higher-ups knew that krona were being exchanged, but they let it be. There were even commanders who bet krona on the spars.
“I bet on the Squad Leader’s victory,” said Big Eyes.
It wasn't because he trusted his own judgment. It was what he heard after pestering Rem before it started.
“Just bet on the Squad Leader if you can.”
That was all he said, but Rem wasn't a man to speak empty words, so Big Eyes trusted him.
‘You just wait if I lose.’
Then he wouldn't just let it go. Of course, he wouldn't pick a fight. Krais knew very well that he wouldn't even be able to find his bones if he picked a fight with Rem.
“You want to do a promotion spar?”
When he made the request to the Platoon Leader, the Platoon Leader nodded.
“Right, there’s no need for you to remain at bottom-rank.”
After that, the Platoon Leader gave his permission, and with Big Eyes' arrangement, a spar was prepared on the central drill grounds. A few idle soldiers gathered. In reality, it wasn't something that would draw spectators, but wasn't this the famous troublemaker squad leader?
The one who supposedly broke through the fog of sorcery. The Squad Leader who was rumored to survive by licking his squad members' asses! So the number of spectators grew.
One by one, more eyes gathered. With more than twenty spectators gathered, Enkrid faced his opponent. He was a soldier from a mercenary background with curly hair.
“I'm mid-rank. I heard you applied for mid-rank soldier right away?”
“I did.”
“You’re arrogant.”
After the brief exchange, they crossed swords. Enkrid parried the opponent's downward strike.
Clang!
The sound of steel rang out as sword met sword. Enkrid waited for the opponent to attack again. It had always been like this until now.
Rem, Ragna, and Jacksen. Every time they sparred, they dug into Enkrid's openings. And what about in actual combat?
The pervert who liked to thrust. Azpen’s Mitch Hurrier. They were all formidable opponents.
They were people who did not tolerate any openings from their opponents. But his current opponent was not like that.
Clang! Clang!
A few more strikes were exchanged. Enkrid furrowed his brow.
‘Is he playing around?’
The opponent’s skill was far lower than he thought. It was hard to tell if this was his full effort or not.
“Uhat!”
The soldier who claimed to be mid-rank swung his sword down. There were so many openings it made him hesitate. Enkrid only feigned blocking the sword, then dodged and tripped the opponent's shin with the top of his foot.
Thud, whoosh, whirl. The soldier’s right foot was lifted to the side, and he went down just like that. He fell with a thud.
“Aargh!”
He must have landed awkwardly on his hand while falling, as he let out a scream and clutched his wrist, rolling on the ground. It was unexpected. Questions flooded Enkrid's eyes.
‘Why is he so weak?’
That was Enkrid's question.