Chapter 111 - Puffed Cheeks

'I can't leave him there.' It was unexpected that the Fairy Company Commander had taken every member of the troublemaker squad—now a platoon—with her. Encrid would not have believed it either if he had not seen the empty quarters. Naturally, Krais, who had been away from the barracks for days, would not have known. That must have been why he had asked for Ragna. 'He did well not to get dragged along when they marched out.'

Had he used Encrid's absence as an excuse, saying they would join the others together? Or had the Fairy Company Commander been considerate enough to leave Krais behind? Whatever the case, Krais had stayed, and the squad members were gone. Encrid would have to rescue him alone. He could hardly summon his squad members back from the battlefield. And mobilize the standing army over an internal matter of the Gilfin Guild? 'Out of the question.'

As if they would help. It might have been different if he had someone to turn to. The Fairy Company Commander, for instance. Even if she had stayed, asking her would have been a gamble. What about Torres? Helping as a Border Guard Platoon Commander might be difficult, but perhaps he could help in a personal capacity.

'But they said all but a few of the Border Guard would march out immediately, too.' Simply allowing Encrid a day off with no duties after reporting his return was already a favor from the army. Did that mean they had gained so much from this mission? Encrid gave his head a light shake. Stray thoughts kept filling it. He only needed to do what needed doing. And what he needed to do here was... "We're going to rescue our Krais. Yes, Big-eyes."

He spoke as he stroked Esther, nestled snugly against his chest. Thinking her sidelong glances looked puzzled, he explained again that he meant the fellow with the big eyes. There had been no particular reason to voice his goal aloud. At that, Esther stared up at Encrid with eyes like blue lakes. He looked back with eyes of a similar color.

"What?" Esther could hardly answer. What answer could a leopard give? Yet her eyes did seem to be saying something. As though asking whether he really was going to rescue Krais. Whether that was his only reason. "Might as well do both."

Encrid revealed a little of what was on his mind. The wolf-men, Aspen's Gray Hounds, and even a mage. After all that, he had wanted to test his abilities against Torres and Pin on the journey home. The urge had seethed within him.

Where did he stand now? What was his condition? How far had his sword reached? 'How much have I improved?'

He did not know. He could not begin to gauge it. That was how it worked. You could only see what you knew, yet every day was new to Encrid. He was an explorer discovering new lands each day, a pathfinder forever opening new routes, a climber ascending a mountain for the first time, a hunter in hunting grounds he had never seen before. He advanced by following signposts, yet did not know where he himself stood. That was why, upon hearing a Frog had appeared, he had coolly assessed his condition and rested a full day before setting out. He had come to think of this opponent as someone who could show him where the signposts stood. 'Will my sword work against him?'

The last time he had encountered a Frog, a single blow had made his ribs protest their own frailty. How would it go this time? Not all Frogs were the same, of course. 'Even so.'

He could not have asked for a better opponent to measure himself against. If he failed, the Frog would become a wall blocking his passage through "today," but that was fine. It was fine. None of this would have happened had even one squad member been here. And that was why Encrid had no choice but to act. Should he call it a coincidence? Good fortune? Or perhaps ill fortune dogging his steps? Well, ill fortune was like a friend who always followed him around. Finding a way through it was the lot of the man swimming that river of misfortune. Thinking of Rem and the other squad members, Encrid realized anew how narrow his view of the world had been.

'Ridiculous.' He had once thought of his squad members as intermediate-grade soldiers or better. Intermediate-grade? Ridiculous. What a ridiculous thing to say. None of his squad members belonged within the bounds of the soldier grading system. He knew that now. In truth, had even one of them been here, there would have been no reason to fear a mere Frog. 'But right now, I'm alone.'

He could not abandon Krais. Nor did he want to back down. Lifting his left foot, he recalled the days he had faced Rem. Planting his right, he reviewed what Jaxon had taught him. Audin went into the next left step. Ragna into the right. With every step, he revisited all he had learned. The countless instructors he had met. The todays he had repeated. He was not afraid, despite knowing his opponent was a Frog. Was that the work of the heart of the beast? Beyond composure, courage, and boldness, a desire to win blossomed. Encrid's pupils flickered like flames. TAP.

Esther struck his chest with a forepaw, as though telling him it was not time yet.

"I know." Encrid answered and walked on, soon reaching the mansion. Bald Gilfin was waiting.

"Where?"

"The drawing room." Where was the drawing room again? Encrid followed Gilfin inside and stopped before its door. 'Am I going into this prepared to die?'

Or had he simply gone mad with the desire to win? He did not know. The answer lay beyond the door. Esther sprang away from his chest and bounded off to the side. Watching her, Encrid thought,

'Can he be reasoned with?' The fact that he was keeping Krais alive suggested he could. They would be able to talk. But that was separate from the need to subdue him first. He had come to fight, so he would fight. What was the point of talking to his opponent? Encrid took a short breath and decided to skip the conversation and let his actions speak. BANG.

He kicked the door open, rolled forward, and flung out his right hand. A whistle dagger flew so fast it seemed to fold the space between them. FWEEEEET!

The sound followed behind it. As though he had been waiting, the Frog's arm flashed into motion.

* * *

Was this bastard insane?

First a presence, then fighting spirit. An attack followed that skin-prickling fighting spirit. Not a trace of hesitation. The movements seemed planned before the man had even reached the door. The Frog saw the arm move as the man burst through the door with a bang. The instant he saw the flying blade, he drew his weapon and knocked it aside. A move that would have bordered on a stunt for an ordinary human was nothing of the sort for a Frog. WHOOSH, SWISH. CLANG!

He struck the incoming dagger with the flat of his blade. The deflected whistle dagger thudded into a crude leather ornament hanging on the wall. The man who had thrown it charged straight in, drawing his sword. SHING!

The newly drawn sword swept down in a bold arc. The Frog bent a finger through a ring fitted beside his sword's hilt. A Frog's slippery skin prevented him from properly transferring his grip strength to a weapon. So Frogs made weapons they called "Loops." When the weapon was a sword, that made it a Loop Sword. Hooking and bending their fingers through the rings brought the distinctive rounded tips of their three fingers against their palms. Then all they had to do was swing. WHOOSH, CLANG!

Steel met steel to announce the beginning. Then the two blades danced, playing an orchestral score. CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

Sparks flew through the air as blows followed one another at monstrous speed. Watching his opponent block more than thirty attacks and even counter from time to time, the Frog was privately impressed.

'This bastard's interesting.' Krais sat in a corner. His hands and feet were not bound, and nothing was broken, but he could not escape. It had only been two days, but the Frog had demonstrated absurd stamina. He stayed at his post constantly, barely snatching a little sleep. Krais was allowed to relieve himself, and meals were no problem. He even shared a table with the Frog bastard. Escaping was another matter. 'What happens if I run?'

They would all die. Every guild member left here. And if he was caught, he would naturally end up another lump of meat beside their corpses. That Frog bastard was more than capable of it. They had said he would come well into spring, but he had certainly arrived early. Still, Krais had something to count on. If even one or two squad members came, things would work out somehow. Rem or Audin, Jaxon or Ragna. 'Not the Squad Leader!'

When the door opened, Krais had been hopeful. Recognizing the man who burst in, he had been disappointed. Now his mouth hung open in shock, and closing it did not even occur to him.

'What the hell is this?' CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

An unbroken clamor threatened to tear the drawing room apart. All he could see were crossing arcs, something formed by the blades, and the sparks flying between them. What was this? It was definitely his Squad Leader who had come in. And that same Squad Leader was...

'Fighting a Frog head-on?'

He did not even seem to be losing much ground. At least, that was how it looked to Krais. Watching his opponent's weapon seem to bend, Encrid brought his own sword upright at his side. CLANG!

The impact traveled through his forearms and spread throughout his body. Only an amateur would try to endure it with brute strength. He redirected the force, blending in the Flowing Sword Technique. What would once have seemed an impossible feat was possible now. SCREECH!

He deflected the blade, flicking it off to the side, then stabbed straight in. His blade whooshed through the air. The Frog brought his sword down again. CLANG-CLANG!

He blocked. Blocked again, deflected, and dodged. How was any of this possible? Thanks to his experience fighting the mage's thorny vines. All that accumulated experience let Encrid swing his sword now. Let him dodge. Let him block. Defense was the foundation. He blocked and blocked again. His opponent's weapon resembled a broad-bladed hunting knife, the sort Frogs generally favored. Most Loop Swords took this form. It carried exceptional weight, yet with a Frog's extraordinary strength, his opponent wielded it like a rapier. Encrid forgot everything, losing himself in the swords. His opponent's sword and his own. Lines joined points, then curved into falling thunderbolts. Such was the Frog's weapon. Encrid caught a falling thunderbolt on his sword. Unable to deflect it, his knees buckled halfway. From that bent position, he brought his sword smoothly down and forward. The Frog retreated half a step and stabbed with his blade. A stab with that broad blade. Unconventional. Yet Encrid felt it as keenly as a sharp awl. His senses danced upon the blade. Already somewhat acute, they had become sharper than ever through Jaxon's training. In that world where only the swords, himself, and his opponent remained, he traded blows, forgetting the passage of time. He blocked, then blocked again. At any opening, he stabbed, cut downward, or slashed. He tried mixing in moves from the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique. Feint a cut, halt it, then stab. The swordsmanship was thoroughly ingrained in his body now. An Unorthodox Sword following the Heavy Sword Technique, perhaps. The Frog brushed most of it aside with brute force. His strength far surpassed a human's, and the athleticism and reflexes that accompanied it played their part. CLANG-CLANG! SWISH! THUD!

Some attacks Encrid dodged, others he knocked aside. A blade grazed his cheek; the Frog's fist slammed into his armor. Taking the punch, he stabbed at the heart, but the Frog twisted halfway around to evade it. "Grrk!"

A bubbling sound rose from the excited Frog's throat. Encrid gave no battle cry. He only concentrated. Focused entirely on one thing. 'Don't scatter it.'

Gather it in and concentrate. Rather than watching the sword and dodging, he relied on his sense for the blade and evaded by instinct. As those moments continued, Encrid suddenly entered a new world. The Frog's fingers hooked through the rings. The shifting of his broad soles. The movement of savage muscles hidden beneath slippery skin. In response, his own hands moved, his arms extended. He lifted his feet and twisted his torso. In that moment of concentration layered upon concentration, when he forgot both the points and the lines they formed, Encrid glimpsed a fraction ahead in the course of the fight. It was a moment that might have been no more than a fleeting mental image. He had looked, and so he saw. He could feel it, and so he knew his chance of victory lay there. Encrid acted on it. Until now, he had aimed for the Frog's heart whenever an opening appeared. No, he had aimed only for the heart. This stab was no different. Filled with the determination to pierce it without fail, the stab shot through space like light. The Frog drew his right foot back and stepped out of its path. TING. SCRAPE.

The blade skimmed the heart guard. Seeing that, the Frog puffed out his cheeks. GRRBL!

Daring to touch his heart? Unable to contain himself, the Frog brought his blade down at Encrid's neck faster than before. A lightning strike of a cut. In a gap no longer than an instant, Encrid drew back the sword he had thrust forward. CLANG!

The two swords, until then exchanging blow after blow, met and stopped in midair. "You want to pit your strength against mine, you stupid human?"

The Frog growled like a beast. Rather than answer, Encrid recreated the scene he had seen. 'If I do this.' TING.

Holding his ground, he bent his knees halfway to give himself suppleness. Receiving his opponent's force, he blended Flowing Sword with Righteous Sword. Trusting in his own strength, the Frog pressed his blade down; it looked about to split Encrid from the forehead down. "Oh, fuck—Captain!"

Krais's cry rang out, but both ignored him. Encrid exerted his strength for a single instant, driving his sword forcefully forward along the flat of the Frog's blade. For that instant, he pushed back against the Frog's strength. TING-TING-TING!

Encrid's sword raced along the blade. The Frog, who had been bearing down on strength alone, lost his balance for a moment. Reflexively, he covered his heart with his sword-bearing right forearm. An attack at the heart would be another wasted blow. And so Encrid's sword traced a gentle arc. SHICK.

His target was the Frog's left arm. The Frog evaded this as well. Blood gushed out, but the arm had not been severed completely. The blade had sliced through the slippery skin. His cheeks puffed out to their limit, the Frog moved his blade too. He would not simply take it. He drove the broad blade back down from where it had been knocked aside. Encrid raised his right hand to block. The blade fell onto the gauntlet he had taken from the corpse-loving mage. THWACK! CRUNCH.

With a sickening sound, he knocked the blade aside. The gauntlet's exterior was cut and slashed, but his wrist was not severed. It was the combined work of the blow-deflecting technique he had learned from Audin and the extraordinarily tough gauntlet. "You're one crazy bastard," the Frog said.

His left arm dangled. Regenerative ability or not, this could hardly be pleasant. Even as blood streamed down, his gaze remained fearsome. 'Ah.'

Encrid sensed the end of "today." His right wrist had lost all strength, and he had even dropped his sword. He had caught it in his left hand, but how many more exchanges could he last? He did not know. Still, he was rather pleased with that last strike. A blow that had created an opening by threatening the heart. It really had been good. Frogs were also a race capable of discerning talent. Looking at Encrid, this one felt revulsion. Why? Because the human was extraordinarily talented? No. Because this was a type he had never seen before. He had to kill this one. The human absolutely had to die. The human had clearly seemed at his limit. How had he done that? Using the Frog's downward cut after repeatedly threatening his heart...

'Then he takes my left arm like that?' In that brief moment, the human had absorbed the weight through bent knees, then slid a foot forward, its sole seeming to scrape the ground. He had staked the fight on a single move, and the Frog had fallen for it. What if his opponent's right wrist were still intact? 'I would have lost?'

The Frog's cheeks swelled further. He had to kill him. His blade rose. One downward stroke would end it. Encrid remained calm. The Frog disliked that attitude all the more.