Not wanting to die anymore was just the reason on the surface. As Enkrid repeated ‘today’, he felt a different kind of fear. The fear that he might grow content here, that if he let today pass, such an opportunity would never come again, the desire to stop right here.
That desire was a terror to Enkrid.
‘Was this what I wanted?’
To be content with today was a life of regression. A life where one could not move forward. Hoping for tomorrow is a natural human sentiment.
Moreover, Enkrid was a man who had dreamed of tomorrow with his meager talent. There was a rational and valid reason for it as well.
‘I’ve learned everything there is to learn.’
There was too little to gain by continuing to train here. If so, then it must be time to move towards tomorrow.
‘What happens if I survive?’
Will this today finally come to an end? He had pondered it countless times. To state only the conclusion, he didn't know.
He did not know what would come after he survived.
‘If I can move forward.’
Let’s move forward. Hadn’t he lived his entire life that way? Above all, Enkrid needed certainty.
Could he truly see tomorrow with what he had gained from repeating today? He couldn’t know. Therefore, he would challenge it.
The mindset of a challenger was an everyday affair for him. This day would be a long one. Because he would have to use everything he had accumulated so far.
“How did you do it?”
“Luck.”
“Is that something you can just pass off as luck?”
As soon as they left the tent, Krais asked again, his eyes wider than usual. The dealer friend who had rolled the dice was dumbfounded. But he didn't throw a fit, shouting that it was impossible.
It was his own hand that had rolled the dice. Thanks to that, Enkrid was able to stand up calmly and walk out. It wasn't something that would weigh on his conscience.
For he had never cheated. He had simply, as if mimicking some prophet, known all the numbers the dice would spit out.
“I’ll buy you a beer in the village later.”
A soldier who had made a killing thanks to Enkrid patted his shoulder as he passed by.
“It really was luck. I have no talent for gambling.”
Enkrid said as he changed his direction. Krais followed closely behind.
“If that’s having no talent, then everyone with talent must be buried six feet under.”
“Sometimes, luck just follows you.”
“... If luck follows you twice, your pockets won’t just be full, they’ll burst, won’t they?”
As they walked, Enkrid handed him seventeen silver coins.
Jingle.
At the sound of the clinking silver coins, Krais took out his pouch. After receiving it, Krais let it go, saying, “Fine, it’s none of my business.” Then he suddenly stared intently at Enkrid, rolling his big eyes around.
“I figured it out.”
Figured what out? Enkrid asked back with his eyes. He continued with a faint smile.
“You’re planning to make a move on the commander who's coming tomorrow, right? Is that why you wanted flowers? No, in that case, wouldn’t roses or lisianthus be better than white horse flowers?”
It seemed the items he had been asked to fetch were of a rather peculiar sort, even setting aside the gambling.
“... You think that would work?”
What in the world was inside this bastard’s head? A rumor was rampant that the new company commander arriving tomorrow was a woman. Yes, they did say a woman was coming.
But would she be won over just because he gave her a bouquet of flowers? It was a method that wouldn't even work on a village girl from the countryside. Of course, if you had a face like Krais’s as part of the preparation, it might work.
No, even then, wouldn’t it be impossible? At best, you’d break even, and at worst, it would probably be an immediate summary execution for insulting a superior officer.
“The Squad Leader has a pretty decent face too if you clean him up.”
“Do you pry into every little thing like this every time someone asks you to get something?”
Don’t you think you’ll have to run your feet off to get the items before lunch? When he spoke with his eyes, Krais understood and turned away. Krais would move diligently.
It would be troublesome if he didn’t. Although it was something he had done several times, Enkrid would also have to run his feet off depending on the time that friend took to get the items. So, now was the time to rest. Enkrid had a leisurely breakfast.
A soup with finely ground barley and wheat, hard bread, and dried meat was breakfast. Meat was served only once every three days. Fortunately, today happened to be that day.
If it weren't, he would not have even seen a glimpse of meat in the repeating day. He crumbled the bread, which he would normally have dissolved with his saliva, into the soup. When he put the moderately thickened broth into his mouth and chewed, there was a chewing texture, but it was still bland.
Only after tearing off pieces of dried meat as if ripping them, putting them in, and mixing did the seasoning become just right. Enkrid chewed thoroughly. A meal becomes the energy to move.
Separate from the difference in skill, a soldier who has starved for several days and a soldier who has eaten heartily are bound to show a difference in combat strength. The warm broth passed down his throat and settled in his stomach. After repeating that a few times, the bowl was empty.
“Taste good? The taste of a meal earned by exploiting your squad member?”
Rem approached and grumbled.
“Very much.”
“It’s good that you’re not a picky eater. I’ve never seen a picky eater live long. We have a guy like that in our squad, you know.”
“For someone like that, he seems to keep coming back alive just fine.”
“His time is coming.”
Rem, who had been spewing curses at his own squad member, soon picked up his bowl and walked away. It was time to diligently wash the dishes. It was after he had filled his belly by soaking bread and dried meat in a watery soup.
Enkrid took out an oiled cloth and carefully wiped his sword, then wiped it again with a dry cloth. The newly acquired sword was not made of famous steel nor crafted by a renowned artisan, but it was quite serviceable. The balance was good, and the blade was well-sharpened.
It was sharp enough to cut and pierce through thick cloth armor or thin leather armor. After finishing the sword maintenance and stepping in front of the barracks, he saw Krais. As he watched him approach, turning his head left and right, Enkrid called out to him.
“Big Eyes.”
Krais approached, holding a bundle of sorts in his hand.
“Here you go.”
The bundle was, naturally, the items Enkrid had ordered. When he received it, it was exactly as he had expected. Five throwing knives with a moderate amount of impurities mixed in.
A bundle of poor-quality but properly oiled leather and one large needle.
“I barely managed to find the deerskin glove.”
Krais said as Enkrid rubbed the blades of the throwing knives with his finger. Indeed, it was so. The glove was not a pair, but only a single one for the left hand.
“So here.”
Krais returned one coin.
“I calculated the deerskin glove as two coins.”
This Big Eyes bastard, he really is obsessed with money. It was a fact he already knew. He could get it back if he argued, but that would take time.
It was better to focus on the tasks for the day. Time was not so plentiful if he was to get everything done. The white horse flower he brought was withered and shriveled.
“You said you weren’t going to confess your love, right? I can’t get fresh ones.”
The swindler.
Enkrid nodded his head. This was within his expectations. What kind of madman would find ten fresh flowers in the middle of a battlefield?
“But there are twelve stalks instead.”
He was a swindler with at least some conscience.
“And here.”
Krais held out a small pouch. Opening it, he found alum inside. He probably intended to make a fuss, saying he couldn't get the alum if the deal went south, and then resolve it by saying he barely managed to find it later.
It was a transparent trick, but Enkrid didn't care. He had gotten everything he needed.
“Good work.”
“But what are you really going to do?”
Krais was extremely curious about what this good-natured Squad Leader was up to.
“I’m thinking of doing some sewing and making some wine.”
That was why he couldn't help but tilt his head at Enkrid's answer. Why sewing all of a sudden? And why make wine?
“Well, I understand.”
Krais left without asking further, and Enkrid, after properly tucking the knives into his belt, tossed the rest inside the tent. Then he strode forward. His steps already had a destination.
Walking without rest towards the outskirts of the barracks, a soldier who was walking stared at Enkrid and shouted.
“Hey, you there, what is it? It’s the Four-Four-Four Squad Leader, isn’t it? If you’re going to relieve yourself, don’t go there.”
“Why?”
“A guy who was pissing there yesterday got bitten by a snake. A venomous one. It’s not a potent one, but he’s been scratching himself all day and making a fuss.”
“It’s urgent. I’ll just do my business quickly and come out.”
“I’ve said my piece.”
It wasn't something to be actively stopped. The soldier just let Enkrid go.
‘As long as his luck isn’t terribly bad, he should be fine.’
The soldier thought so and looked away from Enkrid. Enkrid walked at a moderate pace, looking around. The outskirts of the barracks, an area designated for relieving oneself.
Between a few pits emitting a foul smell and several large trees, dry leaves were abundant. Enkrid avoided the foul-smelling area and sprinkled alum. Then he found a spot without grass, crouched down, picked up a nearby fallen branch, and trimmed its end with the tip of a throwing knife.
He repeatedly scraped the branch using the blade as a saw, and at times, he forcefully flicked the blade outwards to shape the tip of the branch. After a few cuts, the end of the branch split left and right, resembling a forked spear.
On the outside, he looked like he was just killing time with nothing to do, but his intentions were different. Even while working, Enkrid kept his eyes on the dry leaves. Not even enough time to drink a cup of tea had passed after the branch work was done when the leaves rustled and moved.
Snakes dislike alum. Since he had sprinkled alum on one side, it was natural for the snake to move to avoid it. Snake hunting was also something he had done occasionally.
Catching a decent venomous snake would often lead to a good price. Back then, when he sold a snake to a city drunkard and asked what it was used for, the drunkard had laughed heartily and said.
“You’ve never had snake wine, have you? If you haven’t, don’t even talk about it.”
He was a cheerful drunkard.
Shashashak.
He saw something wriggling and moving through the dry leaves. It had a brown body and a moderately angular head. Enkrid pressed the end of the branch onto its neck area.
Thud.
He mixed the thrusting technique he had learned into this simple motion. The snake could not evade it. He struck the head of the captured snake with the back of his knife to knock it out.
‘That’s one.’
He repeated the same process several times. After sprinkling all the remaining alum, he continued until no more snakes came out. It didn't take very long.
It was finished before the sun had even passed its zenith. Enkrid had caught five snakes. He held the caught snakes one by one by their maws and pressed them against a waterskin lined with thin leather.
The snake, startled awake, let venom ooze from its venom glands. After repeating that five times, he put the remaining snakes into a thick leather pouch.
“Are you constipated? You were gone for so long, I was about to check if you really got bitten by a snake.”
It was the soldier from before. He had a serious expression. It seemed he had been genuinely worried.
“Thanks to you, I had a good bowel movement.”
Enkrid said whatever came to mind and walked briskly.
The mother of the Squad Leader in the barracks right behind Enkrid’s had done piecework sewing since she was young. This friend, who had a knack for it, used to learn sewing from his mother by watching over her shoulder, and his skill was not bad. But thinking he couldn’t make a living by sewing, he enlisted.
One more thing.
‘He also loves alcohol to death.’
That was what Enkrid knew about the sewing Squad Leader. Enkrid threw the bundle of leather in front of the Squad Leader who was suffering from a hangover.
“Do you need something?”
His complexion wasn’t good, but this friend’s sewing was truly serviceable. It was something he had done several times. He would do it if threatened with being reported to the company commander for drinking, but then he would do a sloppy job.
“Make me some hand, knee, and elbow guards with this.”
“Why should I?”
The Squad Leader frowned. It was a natural reaction. They didn't usually have much interaction.
But time was too short to persuade him elaborately. Even if he started right now, it would be a close call to receive them before the battle.
“You have some hidden booze, don’t you?”
At those words, the guy’s expression changed, and his eyebrow twitched. He looked like an angry wild boar. In fact, his appearance was reminiscent of a wild boar.
To think such an appearance came with delicate sewing skills.
“It’ll taste amazing if you make it with this and drink it.”
As he spoke, he slyly placed the bundle of snakes down. The snakes wriggled and danced upon the leather. It was a frenzied dance.
“Snakes.”
The guy said without even looking inside.
“Have you ever tried snake wine?”
At those words, the Squad Leader nodded his head as if it were obvious.
“You know it tastes amazing, right?”
Enkrid had never tried it. But he knew thanks to the cheerful drunkard.
“You know it’s a taste you can’t know unless you’ve tried it, right?”
When he said it again, the Squad Leader fellow nodded his head vigorously.
“I’ll give you the snakes. Make this for me.”
“How did you know I’m good at sewing?”
“I heard the company commander mention it the other day.”
That never happened. This friend had told him himself when he was drunk. Well, it wasn't important.
“Damn it, that loose-lipped bastard.”
Even while grumbling, he snatched the needle. It was a fair trade.
“I’ll be counting on you then.”
“Shit, fine, I get it.”
The fellow soldier’s eyes did not leave the wriggling snake pouch. He really loves his snake wine. Enkrid returned to his tent, gathered the remaining things, and moved to the place where he used to spar with Rem.
No one spoke to him. At times like this, being in the 444 Squad was a good thing. It was a squad that also served the role of being outcasts.
Behind a small hill where people rarely passed. Enkrid, wearing the deerskin glove, crushed the white horse flowers with a stone. He repeated this until the white petals were stained a dark green, then mixed in the snake venom.
Originally, this snake’s venom only caused itching. But it was different when mixed with white horse flower. On the seventy-seventh today, he had been struck by this poison, and an enemy soldier had cackled before the paralyzed Enkrid.
He was so happy that he had rattled on about how to make it. So he had tried making it a few times, and it was quite good. He crushed the flower, mixed the venom, and spread the sticky green liquid created on a flat stone.
He then pulled out a throwing knife and coated the blade. The knife glinted in the sunlight, reflecting a dull, dark green light.
‘With this, the preparations are complete.’
Clang! Clang!
“All platoons, assemble!”
Just then, a loud shout echoed from within the barracks. It was something Enkrid knew well through the repeated todays. It was the summons to receive combat orders.