It was a sudden question. But Jacksen was not one to be flustered. His face was expressionless, as always.
Jacksen paused for a moment, just as he was about to speak. He seemed to be contemplating. Enkrid let his arms hang loose, quietly waiting for Jacksen to open his mouth.
Rushing him would do no good. The contemplation was brief. Soon, white breath escaped Jacksen's lips and dispersed into the air.
“The Whistle Dagger. It was once called the throwing knife that leaves only its sound behind.”
Jacksen said, scratching his cheek. For someone who had hesitated to speak, his words flowed smoothly.
“The throwing knife that leaves only its sound behind, that’s how fast it is. Too fast for the human eye to follow. That's why it's difficult to face. Most die without even knowing what hit them. That’s the kind of weapon the Whistle Dagger is.”
“And if you had no choice but to face one?”
Was there a way to avoid the assassin? Not for now. It didn't seem like it.
The man had prepared meticulously. He had used a spy planted among their allies and was thorough in his preparations for the kill. At least, that’s how it looked in Enkrid’s eyes now.
He was in a situation where his limbs were bound in chains, and he had to be dragged wherever his opponent pulled. It was time to find a way through.
“No choice?”
Jacksen tilted his head. To him, it must have sounded like a strange thing to say.
“No choice.”
Enkrid emphasized it once more. Jacksen stared intently into Enkrid’s eyes. Enkrid did not look away.
Blue eyes and reddish-brown eyes clashed in mid-air. Jacksen seemed to be asking with his eyes.
‘Why do you need that?’
Enkrid ignored it. Equivalent Exchange Jacksen was a man who sold necessary information, not one who asked his clients 'why'. Jacksen’s expression soon hardened, and he spoke.
“This information will not be cheap.”
“The more expensive, the better.”
He was serious. After all, it didn't seem like 'today' would be the last 'today'. When the morning of today dawned again, the value of the information Jacksen was about to give would plummet to nothing.
It would become something he already knew, at least for Enkrid. Jacksen's expression stiffened. He seemed somewhat vexed.
Enkrid ignored that too. What was urgent now wasn't Jacksen’s mood.
“Before you hear the sound, you must watch the hand movements. Everything depends on the throwing motion.”
Jacksen simply explained the counter. Don’t be fooled by the sound; by the time you hear it, it's already too late. Keep your eyes on the opponent’s movements.
“You can't take your eyes off the opponent for a single moment. Especially if the opponent is a first-rate assassin, they will know how to throw it without being seen.”
The most prominent feature of the Whistle Dagger was its paper-thin blade. The key was to sharpen the blade again and again until it could pierce even a breastplate made of decent steel. If the thrower was skilled enough, they could indeed penetrate a steel plate.
He added that, depending on their skill, they might even use several thin blades layered together. Jacksen explained that there were two main ways to throw a throwing knife. One was to swing the arm wide to increase the power of the throw.
The other was a method that didn't show the throw at all.
“You’ve seen me throw a dagger, right?”
Enkrid asked.
He had once been engrossed in practicing dagger throwing.
“Yes, it was about as good as throwing stones.”
Jacksen dismissed Enkrid’s skill in a single sentence. He meant it would be better to throw stones instead of daggers. A stone would at least have an impact, whereas a dagger that couldn't even hit its target was just a toy.
‘Harsh.’
Even for someone as stoic as Enkrid, Jacksen’s words were sharp enough to pierce his composure. It didn't feel like a dagger had been stabbed into his heart, but it felt like one had at least lodged itself in his forearm.
“You could have taught me a thing or two. How to throw properly.”
Enkrid grumbled, a little peeved.
“Then you shall learn. I'll add this to our list of trades.”
“Hmm?”
“You don’t want to?”
He didn't dislike the idea. There was no end to learning, and for Enkrid, who was captivated by the desire to learn, the current offer was like an oasis in the desert. Ever thirsty, Enkrid immediately nodded his head.
“No, I’d like that.”
“From how to hold it.”
It was almost time for patrol duty, so the learning session was short. Half an hour at most. In that short time, Enkrid saw Jacksen in a new light.
“It will be meaningless without practice.”
How to grip and throw a thin blade, how to grip and throw a hand-axe, how to throw a heavy dagger. The grip and the throw were different for each. Here, too, there was an abundance of things to learn.
As he turned to leave for patrol duty again, Jacksen spoke. His voice was quiet but firm.
“Don't create a situation where you have to face one. That comes first.”
He had been acting slightly sulky the whole time, but he ended with a note of concern. Enkrid found himself wondering what he had ever given these people.
‘They’re good to me for no reason.’
It wasn't a romantic relationship, and he had never thought of himself as having a deep friendship with them. But looking at the attitudes of his squad members, like Jacksen, Rem, and Ragna, it was as if they were looking after him like a child left by the water.
‘No, maybe not that.’
They never insisted on following him when he was dispatched to the battlefield, a fight, or another mission, so maybe he wasn't a child left by the water after all. It was a pointless thought.
“I will.”
In reality, he had no intention of doing so. It wasn’t something you could avoid just by wanting to.
“Were you on duty, Squad Leader? I heard you became a high-rank soldier. Ah, hell, congratulations.”
It was Jack. Of course, Bon was with him.
“Let's go.”
Once again, he immersed himself in the waves of today. The bitterly cold air whipped around him, enough to freeze him to the bone, but he had put on an extra layer of clothing compared to yesterday, making it almost like wearing cloth armor. His clothes were thick, and the exercises he learned from Audin also helped warm his body.
The cold seemed to have subsided a little.
“Damn it, I can’t sell it at that price!”
Amidst the usual clamor of today's market. Enkrid used a certain merchant's shout as a landmark. It was right around this time.
When the leather merchant's angry shout was heard, the half-elf in rags would appear. At the same time, Jack and Bon flanked him on his left and right. Enkrid had no intention of wasting any today in vain.
Of course, he had a plan for today.
Thud.
He tripped Jack with his left foot.
“Ugh.”
To Enkrid's left, Jack fell forward. As soon as he tripped Jack, Enkrid drew the sword from his right hip. It was a dagger called a guard sword.
A weapon of a kind with a wide, thick blade that could also be used as a shield.
Shing, squelch.
“... You're crazy!”
Bon shouted in surprise from the side. He had every reason to. The blade of the wide dagger Enkrid had drawn had just sliced through Jack's neck.
“Guh.”
It was barely a death rattle. His throat slit, Jack slammed face-first onto the ground, clutching his neck and struggling. Blood flowed onto the ground.
Those who saw the fallen Jack screamed.
“Aahh!”
“Uwaah!”
The surrounding crowd of merchants backed away in an instant. No one wanted to be struck down by a stray blade. In the midst of it all, Bon flinched.
Enkrid did not allow Bon to move. The wide blade in his hand moved again. It was a strike aimed at the collarbone, from top to bottom.
Clang!
“This bastard!”
Bon also drew a dagger and blocked it. His blade was a thin weapon made for thrusting. It was likely intended to stab Enkrid in the side if things went south.
As Enkrid pressed down on the blocked blade, Bon retreated. He used the moment to buy time, turning his body and covering his heart with the wide blade. All of this happened in the span of just two breaths.
Enough time to freeze one's hands in shock if unprepared.
‘So far.’
It went according to plan. Enkrid’s gaze fell upon the assassin. The man threw back the rags covering his head.
An appearance that gave off a strange sense of unease met his eyes. He could see curiosity and interest blooming in the man’s eyes. And then it began again.
‘Not the sound, the hand.’
He closed his ears and focused all his senses on his eyes. He would predict the next move based on the visual information he received. This was the counter Jacksen had taught him.
Thud!
Enkrid had assumed the opponent would naturally aim for his heart. Or if not that, his head. His concentration was sharp, making the fleeting blade appear as a sliver of light.
However, he couldn't see where that blade would land. So he had guarded his heart and turned his head. The whistle dagger his opponent threw struck his right forearm.
A searing pain shot through him as his forearm muscle was torn, and he lost all strength in his fingers. The nerve was damaged; it was a fatal wound that he couldn’t even dream of recovering from without divine healing.
“Hah.”
A hollow laugh escaped him. It was an unexpected blow. When he covered his heart, the man aimed for his hand.
Instead of trying to pierce the shield, he dealt with the one holding it. It was a different perspective.
‘This is no clumsy assassin.’
A fact he had already realized was etched into his mind once more.
Piiing.
The second whistle sounded, and a throwing knife lodged itself in his heart. Does this bastard have some kind of grudge against Frokk? It seemed he wouldn't be satisfied unless he stuck a throwing knife in someone's heart.
“Cough.”
Half of what he coughed up was blood. It gushed out in a torrent. As he knelt on both knees, supporting himself with only his left arm, a shadow fell over him.
“An interesting one, the Stubborn Lovers hunt their prey...”
“And never let go.”
Enkrid stole the words his opponent was about to say, squeezing out his last bit of strength. When he looked up at the half-elf, his expression was one of bewilderment. His mouth was half-open, unable to continue, his lips twitching before he spat out a single word that was also a question.
“You?”
Are you surprised? You must be. This was a man who always moved as if he had anticipated everything.
He had wanted to see that expression crumble. He was satisfied.
“See you again.”
The opponent wouldn't remember, but Enkrid would, in the today that he remembered. It was a promise to meet again in that today. The assassin was startled by Enkrid’s words.
“Was it a trap?”
The half-elf looked left and right. Hiring a first-rate assassin to kill a mere soldier. He had thought it was overkill.
If it was a trap, it would make sense. He had taken the words "see you again" to mean his opponent had a way to survive. Of course, it was all a misunderstanding.
A trap? What trap.
With a thud, Enkrid’s head snapped back. The day had ended once more. The ferryman appeared again and sneered again.
‘Doesn't this bastard have anything better to do?’
Enkrid thought, as he greeted today once more.
“Ugh, it's damn cold.”
The morning began with the sound of Rem’s whining.
“Move around and warm your body. That'll help a bit.”
Enkrid said what Audin would have said, beating him to it. Then he got up and began to stretch. A body that was moderately warmed up was better than a stiff one.
That much was certain. In that respect, Audin’s exercises were certainly helpful. As he started his warm-up, Audin came over and asked.
“Where did you learn that?”
I learned it from you. He couldn't say that honestly.
“From a passing monk.”
Audin had said that the origin of the exercises he taught was the temple. In other words, it was one of the ways priests trained their bodies. To be precise, it was likely the training method of monks, who used hand-to-hand combat as a tool for their training.
“You learned it well.”
Audin joined him at his side, warming up with the exercises again.
“Don’t you know that the best thing to do when it's cold is to just stay still and hug a blanket? Go find us some heated leather somewhere. If you're the Squad Leader, you should solve your squad members' problem with the cold, I'm telling you.”
As he was dealing with Rem's grumbling, Jacksen returned.
“Let's talk.”
He took Jacksen and left without another word.
“What, where are you two going without me!”
Rem was still grumbling behind them.
“I want to learn how to use the Whistle Dagger.”
This was one of the things Enkrid had learned through his repeating today. It was better to just throw out what he needed rather than trying to use his head to persuade someone.
“Where did you hear about that?”
“You hear and learn things when you wander around. I want to learn.”
“And the price?”
“Whatever you want. I can even write you a blank note.”
Famous merchant guilds sometimes issued promissory notes. The most famous story involved Rengadis, the continent's number one merchant guild and family. The head of the Rengadis guild's late-born and only son had joined a monster-hunting expedition out of a sense of adventure.
The Rengadis family, finding out too late, went to find their son. But an accident had already occurred, and the son was on the verge of death. The Imperial Knights, who happened to be passing by, saved him.
To honor them, the Rengadis family issued a blank note to the Imperial Knights. It meant they would pay any amount written on it, as long as the merchant family could afford it. This famous anecdote had now become a common figure of speech.
The phrase 'to give a blank note' now meant 'to give anything but one's life'. Jacksen's brow furrowed.
“You shouldn't say such things so lightly.”
“That's how much I want to learn.”
Enkrid retorted.
He was serious. The throwing knife the half-elf used, he wanted it. He wanted to learn it.
A desire boiled within him. Seeing Enkrid's eyes, Jacksen nodded. A fire was burning within them.
A flame that would destroy and burn anything it touched—it was the flame of desire.