Swish.
The world spun.
Thud.
He landed on his back, the breath knocked out of him.
“A little harder and your ribs and organs would have been damaged.”
As he endured the pain, his brow furrowed, the company commander's musical voice rang out from above.
“Enough?”
“One more time.”
If he could, Enkrid wanted to repeat it even if it meant having his neck sliced by Naeidel. He knew he was no match for her. Rem had glanced at the Elf Company Commander and said, “That one's a complete monster.”
Then came Ragna's assessment.
“Among the company commanders, she's the best.”
Audin had also added, “Her body is well-built.” Knowing he was no match changed nothing, so Enkrid gripped his sword with both hands.
“Come.”
The Elf Company Commander was the same as always, her voice nonchalant and emotionless. Naeidel came curving in. Naeidel, a sword forged by the elves, cut with a curve and, in an instant, became a point to thrust.
A moment ago, he had allowed her to close the distance while trying to avoid her thrust. This time, he stepped back and swung his longsword upward. In terms of strength, he clearly had the upper hand.
If he struck upward from below and sent Naeidel flying, an opening would appear. He pictured the course of the fight in his mind. It was a combat prediction that had come naturally from countless real battles, life-or-death battles at that.
He predicted his opponent's reaction and prepared for it. For those with innate talent, or those who had perfected their martial arts through real combat, this was as natural as breathing, but for Enkrid, it was a weapon he had obtained only after dying countless times.
Swoosh.
Just before the company commander's Naeidel clashed with Enkrid's longsword, Naeidel bent softly. Befitting its nickname, the Leaf Sword, it was as if it had truly become a leaf. The blade flexed and bent.
It was a trick of the company commander's wrist. She twisted and shook it. Even while watching the blade bend, Enkrid put more force into his swing, determined to meet it with his own sword.
In the end, his upward swing missed the blade as it flowed past. Enkrid cut through empty air. It was a Flowing Sword technique that could only be described as a trick.
Afterward, the elf closed the distance again. She burrowed deep into his personal space. Prepared for this, Enkrid raised his knee.
Thwack.
The company commander did not dodge. Instead, she pressed down on his knee with both her hands. By pressing down before he could put his full strength into it, she broke Enkrid's balance.
I knew it, yet I still fell for it, Enkrid thought. Even though I knew she would try to engage in close combat like this. When he attempted a desperate headbutt, the company commander tilted her head to avoid it, receiving Enkrid's forehead with her shoulder.
What followed was similar to before. Only the striking technique was different. The company commander clasped the hands that had blocked his knee and struck Enkrid near his heart.
Thump!
For a moment, the breath was once again knocked out of him, and the strength drained from his limbs. If this had been a life-or-death battle, he would have fought back desperately, even if it meant biting his own tongue, but it was a sparring match. At this point, it was already a defeat.
“Gasp, haah, haah.”
Enkrid took a few steps back before dropping to his knees, bracing himself on the ground as he gasped for breath. When he raised his head, he saw the company commander's green eyes.
“More?” she asked.
“Hooah.”
Enkrid's heart ached with a dull pain, but he smiled. He was truly glad. That his opponent didn't stop just because she had won.
And so, he charged again and again, countless times. He was beaten and beaten again, collapsing to the ground.
“Did you get beaten up for not shoveling the snow? Something like that?”
When he returned to the barracks, Rem, wrapped in heated leather, was the first to react.
“What?”
“Why do you look like that? Who did this?”
His words made it sound like he was ready to rush out right that instant, but his hands only pulled the heated leather tighter. Right, that thing is pretty warm.
Enkrid knew.
It was an especially cold day today.
“What is it?”
Ragna also asked. For some reason, Jacksen, who was in the barracks today, also stared intently at Enkrid. His eyes seemed to ask what had happened.
Audin muttered quietly.
“Why are you always getting beaten up, brother.”
‘Saying it like that makes me sound like I have a really weak constitution.’
Like some immature kid who gets beaten up at the drop of a hat. Enkrid thought, then answered.
“I was sparring.”
“With whom?”
“The company commander.”
“Our company commander?”
A nod.
“Why'd you do that? If you wanted to get hit, I would've hit you.”
That bastard has such a hateful way of talking. Enkrid didn't even bother to reply. He had just returned from washing himself with superhuman willpower.
Fortunately, there was a bathhouse inside the barracks that provided hot water for just a krona. If not for that, he might have given up on washing. His entire body ached.
He didn't even have the strength to lift a finger. But it was fine. All he had to do was rest.
A good two days of rest would be enough.
“In recognition of your efforts to maintain the security of the city, I grant you a four-day leave. There is no reward money.”
That was what the company commander had said as the sparring session ended around sunset. It meant no duty. She had also said there was no reward money, but Enkrid considered the sparring match itself a reward.
Besides, he also had the wealth he'd acquired from the criminal gang.
‘I think it was more than ten times.’
The number of times he'd been sprawled out on the frozen dirt ground. His body had suffered, but he had learned something.
‘What I'm lacking right now.’
The company commander hadn't spoken with her mouth, but with her sword and fists. It was only natural to hone his swordsmanship, Single Point Focus, Heart of the Beast, and Sense of the Blade. Those were the basics.
However, before that, Enkrid realized what he needed to fill himself with.
“You're slow.”
The company commander's final words flew at him like daggers, but it wasn't enough to hurt. The teachers who had taught him in the past had always said harsher things.
“Do you really have to learn this?”
“Just quit and go back to your hometown to farm.”
“I can't teach someone who's just going to die as a third-rate swordsman.”
The more skilled they were, the harsher the words they spat out. The company commander had called him slow, but even amidst that slowness, Enkrid had obtained what he wanted.
‘A lack of technique.’
To be precise, a lack of technique in controlling his body. The Elf Company Commander had thrown him around in the same way, over and over. She taught with her body, and Enkrid, too, accepted the lesson with his body.
He never missed an opportunity to learn, like a hawk eyeing its prey.
‘What I need.’
The combat techniques known as wrestling, grappling, and pugilism. Just because you swing a sword doesn't mean you only fight with a sword. It also includes using your hands, feet, and torso.
Enkrid had used such tactics quite a bit himself until now.
‘But it was painfully obvious I've never been properly taught.’
The company commander's technique was exceptional. In particular, when she put down her sword and rushed in low like she was crawling on the ground, instantly breaking his balance before grabbing and twisting his knee, there was no way to counter it. What if he drew a dagger and stabbed down?
No, the company commander would probably dislocate and break his knee joint and pull away before he could even draw and stab with a dagger.
‘It's not easy.’
The point was the difference in technique. There was also a difference in proficiency, but what they had learned and possessed was different from the start.
‘It was fun, though.’
His entire body ached, and it felt like he was bruised to the bone even now, but he had learned something. Moreover, that learning had opened up a new path, so Enkrid was pleased. As he was about to lie down on his bunk, the panther stuck its head out and looked at him with its blue eyes.
‘I did say I'd give it a name.’
It would be a problem if it didn't even have a proper name to be called by. As he slid into his bunk, the panther burrowed into his arms. He felt a pleasant warmth.
For some reason, it felt like the warmth was soothing his bruised body.
“Since you're warm, should I name you Stove?”
“You call that a name?”
Rem chimed in from the side. That bastard just had to stick his nose in everything.
“Is it weird?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
It was the opposite bunk.
Ragna replied.
He was still lying down. Too lazy to even get up, but his mouth was still running.
“Brother, do you hate the panther?”
Even Audin said this.
“Do you hate it?”
Enkrid asked the panther, and the creature slapped his cheek with its front paw.
“I guess you really do hate it,” Enkrid muttered, holding the panther in his arms as he sank into thought.
What should I name it? I never thought I'd be worrying about something like this.
Blackie?
No, that sounds like a dog's name. Its eyes are blue, like a lake, so maybe I'll call it Blue Eyes. That sounds a little better.
The panther, nestled in his arms, tapped his chest, as if it had read his thoughts and was rejecting all of them. You don't like Blue Eyes either? Then, what should I call you?
Should I just call it Black Panther? That would be convenient.
Press.
The panther pressed its paw against his chest. Seeing it press and rub repeatedly, it seemed to really dislike the idea.
‘Wait, are you reading my mind?’
He had been on an external mission, spending the night with the comrades of those he had killed. In such a situation, Rem, who had snored while he slept, and Ragna, who had slept like the dead, were the strange ones. A certain level of tension was necessary.
Thanks to that, he couldn't sleep soundly in the thieves' hideout. He had only dozed off, barely managing to close his eyes for a moment. Afterward, he had reported back as soon as he returned, and then immediately started sparring.
A sparring match that involved rolling on the frozen ground numerous times, pushing his body to its limits. Thanks to that, his body was exhausted. After washing with hot water, he returned, wrapped himself in heated leather, and then covered himself with a blanket, letting the warmth seep into his body.
The warmth from the panther also played a part. The creature's rhythmic pressing of its paws also lulled him to sleep. Enkrid was thus half-asleep.
‘What is your name?’
That state of being half in a dream and half in reality could be called half-conscious. The moment he asked in that state, Enkrid had a dream. In the dream, a beautiful woman with silver-blonde hair and blue eyes appeared.
Her wide-open eyes were large and clear, and her straight, high nose seemed to reflect her personality. He had the impression that she was an arrogant beauty, upright and unflappable. In the middle of a meadow where white, red, yellow, and blue flowers bloomed in profusion.
She stood alone among the flowers like a shining star. A star that gave light to all the flowers.
“You're beautiful,” Enkrid said.
His voice reached her across the meadow. He knew this because it was a dream.
And then.
“My name is Aster,” she said.
Her voice also reached Enkrid, transcending distance and space. The meadow disappeared, and she disappeared with it. Half-asleep, Enkrid muttered in his sleep.
“Aster, let's call you Aster.”
“……Are you dreaming?”
Rem replied from the side, but Enkrid, already asleep, did not answer. Seeing the sleeping squad leader, Rem tilted his head. No matter how tired he was, he wasn't the type of person to fall asleep so deeply that he lost consciousness.
“He must be tired.”
Rem muttered.
It seemed the company commander had really put the squad leader through the wringer. He didn't like that very much. That Elf woman, the company commander, was the type whose inner thoughts were impossible to read.
And why did she treat his squad leader so harshly on a whim? Who gave her permission?
“Purrrr.”
As if reacting to the word Aster, the panther in the squad leader's arms let out a pleasant cry.
“Alright, you can be Aster. You.”
Rem said jokingly and closed his own eyes. The current warmth was satisfying. He hated the cold.
Absolutely despised it. Did they say there was no duty for three days? Rem had no intention of leaving the heated leather except to eat and relieve himself during that time.
The Lake Panther, Aster, smelled a familiar scent on the man named Enkrid. A scent related to spells, mysteries, and arcane secrets. In truth, if one dug deeper, it was something close to a curse.
‘But it only lingered on the surface.’
The mystery that could be called a curse had left behind only a trace around Enkrid, unable to exert any power. From her experience, it seemed a spell trap someone had set had been activated. It had activated, but it hadn't taken effect.
Why had the curse only lingered? She had a guess. Of course, it was only a guess.
In her current body, she couldn't prove anything. She wanted to know more, to dig deeper, but she couldn't question it now. To be precise, it wasn't something to question.
Inhaling the scent of the spell to her heart's content, she absorbed the energy that lingered on the surface, unable to affect the man named Enkrid in any way. The intent and will that could be called a curse had already vanished, leaving only pure energy, mana. Aster savored it fully.
It was a sweet fragrance. It had been a long time since she had tasted a part of the world of sorcery. In the midst of that, she projected herself into the dream of the man who was trying to name her whatever he pleased.
“My name is Aster.”
She conveyed her proper name. She absolutely couldn't just let it be. Because in the world of sorcery, a name holds a special meaning.
Especially when her current state was not good. If she received a new name in her current form, the curse would deepen. So, she had to let him know her original name.
That was the reason she had pushed herself to appear in the man's dream. Was it thanks to the mana left on the man named Enkrid's body and projecting her form into his dream? For a brief moment, Aster found her original form.
Naked, in the arms of the man she had chosen.
“Mm.”
The man hugged her. Having never allowed a member of the opposite sex into her arms, Aster's face quickly turned crimson. But no one saw it.
The man's firm chest muscles were right in front of her nose. Aster let out only a faint breath, not moving a muscle. She was not in a position to cause a commotion.
Her original form had returned for only a very brief moment. The man's eyelids slowly lifted. His eyes were heavy with sleep.
It wasn't a clear gaze. The moment their eyes met, Aster was so surprised she forgot to breathe.
“Huh?”
The man stared with a dazed look, then slowly closed his eyes before opening them again. They were still eyes heavy with sleep. In that interval, Aster returned to her panther form.
It was a mystery of magic. The man who had opened his eyes again closed them and fell back asleep.
“Aster, Aster.”
The man muttered her name in his sleep. He won't remember, will he? She thought it was a relief she had turned back into a panther.
To be held naked in the arms of a man she was seeing for the first time—well, strictly speaking, it wasn't the first time, but still. She didn't even want to imagine it. Then, Aster felt a pang of regret.
‘To think I'd call this curse a relief.’
She wouldn't even think it by mistake. But it was the first time she had been held like this in a man's arms. The panther tried to push the man away for a moment, then stopped.
The scent of mana still lingered in the man's embrace, tempting her. She told herself it was because of the mana and burrowed deeper into his arms. Just as Enkrid felt the panther's warmth, the panther also felt Enkrid's warmth.
She had recovered enough energy to regain her true form, even if only for a moment. Now, even in her panther form, she should be able to move around to some extent. It would still take time to regain her true form, but.
‘Soon.’
It was literally just a matter of time. As long as she was by the side of this human named Enkrid, it was possible. If not, she wouldn't have sought this person out in the first place.
‘His face is to my liking, though.’
Even in her eyes, Enkrid was a rare handsome man. Of course, Aster didn't think that was what was important.